“I am glad to hear it,” Gorham answered, but his tone suggested incredulity.

“I have been some worrited lately,” James added, by way of explanation.  “I s’pose you knows how that tells on a feller, sir.”

“Yes, James,” Gorham agreed.  “It comes to all of us sooner or later.  Now tell me what is the important information which your father promised me you would bring with you ?”

“Hasn’t he told you, sir?”

“Not a word, James.  Has it to do with the matter you have been working on for me, or is it some trouble of your own which has caused the worry you speak of?”

James was seated on the edge of his chair with his thin hands folded and resting on his knees.  His eyes roved about the room, looking anywhere except into Mr. Gorham’s face.  As a matter of fact, he had in reality passed through some “worrited” times since his father’s call, and his humiliation was complete.  It was a relief to him to know that his father had not discussed the matter with Mr. Gorham, but even that consolation was not equal to the task of restoring him to his former equinimity.

“Well,” interrogated Mr. Gorham, helpfully, striving to assist him in what was evidently a serious undertaking.

“You see, sir,” James began, “there’s another Mrs. Buckner.”

“What!” cried Gorham, genuinely surprised and rising from his chair.  “Buckner has been married again, you say?”

“That’s what I understand, sir; leastwise that’s what he told me.  He was drunk when he said it, and perhaps that’s why he did say it; but I believe it’s true.”

James had the satisfaction of witnessing a sight which few men had seen during Mr. Gorham’s lifetime—­he was visibly excited, and, what was stranger still, he made no effort to conceal his emotion.

“If there is anything in what you say, James, this information is the most cheering piece of news which I have heard for many a day.  Now tell me all you know about it.”

In another half-hour James Riley was painfully making his way to the nearest subway station, giving no indication, either in his face or in his movements, as to whether the result of his mission had turned out more or less favorably, in its financial probabilities, than would have been the case had he followed his original intentions.  He had found his father waiting for him in the front hall after he came down-stairs from Mr. Gorham’s library, but the only remark the old man vouchsafed was, “Have ye done phwat I told ye, Jimmie?” Then the door swung upon its hinges while the younger man went out, leaving his father chuckling softly.

“Jimmie’s th’ fine la-ad, afther all,” Riley muttered quietly to himself.  “He has th’ temptations same as we all has, but he seen his duty when his fa-ather shown it ter him.”  Then the old man became reflective.  “It’s sorry I’d ‘a’ been ter have had ter mess Jimmie all up,” he continued—­“but I’d ‘a’ done it.  It’s lucky f’r him he didn’t show fight; it’s lucky f’r him, I’m tellin’ ye.”