“I am very much obliged to you, sir, for the money,” Allbright said, putting the notes in his old pocket-book.  Then he replied to Carroll’s remark concerning the weather, that it was indeed cold, and he thought there would be a frost.

“Yes, I think so,” said Carroll.

Then Allbright put on his own rather shabby, dark overcoat and his hat and took his leave.  Much to his surprise, Carroll extended his hand, something which he had never done before.

“Good-bye,” he said.

Allbright shook the extended hand, and felt a sudden, unexplained emotion.  He returned the good-bye, and wished Mr. Carroll a pleasant vacation and restoration to health.

“I am tired out and ill,” Carroll admitted, in a weary voice, and his eyes, as they now met the other man’s, were haggard.

“There’s two weeks’ vacation,” Allbright told his sister when he reached home that night, “and I don’t know, but I’m afraid business ain’t going just to suit Captain Carroll, and that’s the reason for it.”

“Has he paid you?” asked his sister, quickly, and her placid forehead wrinkled.  Her illness had made her irritable.

“Yes,” replied her brother.  He looked at her meditatively.  He was about to tell her something—­that he was almost sure that Carroll had gone out and pawned his watch to pay him—­then he desisted.  He reflected that his sister was a woman, and would in all probability tell the woman down-stairs and her son about it, and that it would be none of their business whether he worked for a man who was honest enough, or hard up enough, to pawn his watch to pay him his month’s salary or not.  He was conscious of sentiments of loyalty both to himself and to Carroll.  During the next two weeks he often strolled in the neighborhood of the office and stood looking up at the familiar windows.  One day he saw some men carrying away a desk which looked familiar, but he was not sure.  He hesitated about asking them from what office they had removed it until they had driven away and it was too late.  He went up on the elevator and surveyed the office door, but it looked just as usual, with the old sign thereon.  He tried it softly, but it was locked.

When he reached the sidewalk he encountered Harrison Day, the young clerk.  He did not see him at first, but a nervous touch on his arm arrested his attention, and then he saw the young man’s face with its fast-winking eyes.

“Say,” said Harrison Day, “it’s all right, ain’t it?”

“What’s all right?” demanded Allbright, a trifle shortly, drawing away.  He had never liked Harrison Day.

“Oh, nothin’, only it’s ten days since he went, and I thought I’d look round to see how things were lookin’.  You s’pose he’s comin’ back all right?”

“I haven’t any reason to think anything else.”

“Well, I thought I’d look around, and when I saw you I thought I’d ask what you thought.  The girls are kind of uneasy—­that is, Sadie is—­May don’t seem to fret much.  Say!”