The bulky figure was going slowly down the street, and Keith saw him stop a man and show him his bit of paper.  Keith crossed the street and hurried on ahead of him.  Wickersham’s office was only a few blocks away, and a minute later Keith rushed into the front office.  The clerks hooked up in surprise at his haste.  Keith demanded of one of them if Mr. Wickersham was in.  The clerk addressed turned and looked at another man nearer the door of the private office, who shook his head warningly.  No, Mr. Wickersham was not in.

Keith, however, had seen the signal, and he walked boldly up to the door of the private office.

“Mr. Wickersham is in, but he is engaged,” said the man, rising hastily.

“I must see him immediately,” said Keith, and opening the door, walked straight in.

Wickersham was sitting at his desk poring over a ledger, and at the sudden entrance he looked up, startled.  When he saw who it was he sprang to his feet, his face changing slightly.  Just then one of the clerks followed Keith.

As Keith, however, spoke quietly, Wickersham’s expression changed, and the next second he had recovered his composure and with it his insolence.

“To what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?” he demanded, with a curl of his lip.

Keith gave a little wave of his arm, as if he would sweep away his insolence.

“I have come to warn you that old Adam Rawson is in town hunting you.”

Wickersham’s self-contained face paled suddenly, and he stepped a little back.  Then his eye fell on the clerk, who stood just inside the door.  “What do you want?” he demanded angrily. “——­ you! can’t you keep out when a gentleman wants to see me on private business?”

The clerk hastily withdrew.

“What does he want?” he asked of Keith, with a dry voice.

“He is hunting for you.  He wants to find his granddaughter, and he is coming after you.”

“What the ——­ do I know about his granddaughter!” cried Wickersham.

“That is for you to say.  He swears that he will kill you unless you produce her.  He is on his way here now, and I have hurried ahead to warn you.”

Wickersham’s face, already pale, grew as white as death, for he read conviction in Keith’s tone.  With an oath he turned to a bell and rang it.

“Ring for a cab for me at once,” he said to the clerk who appeared.  “Have it at my side entrance.”

As Keith passed out he heard him say to the clerk: 

“Tell any one who calls I have left town.  I won’t see a soul.”

A little later an old man entered Wickersham & Company’s office and demanded to see F.C.  Wickersham.

There was a flurry among the men there, for they all knew that something unusual had occurred; and there was that about the massive, grim old man, with his fierce eyes, that demanded attention.

On learning that Wickersham was not in, he said he would wait for him and started to take a seat.