“If you ever need a home,” said Miss Norris, abruptly, “come here.  You will be welcome.”

“Thank you very much,” said Carl, gratefully.  “It is all the more kind in you since you have known me so short a time.”

“I have known you long enough to judge of you,” said the maiden lady.  “And now if you won’t have anything more we will go into the next room and talk business.”

Carl followed her into the adjoining room, and Miss Norris at once plunged into the subject.  She handed him a business card bearing this inscription: 

John French, Boots, shoes and rubber goods, 42a State Street, Chicago.

“This young man wants me to lend him two thousand dollars to extend his business,” she said.  “He is the son of an old school friend, and I am willing to oblige him if he is a sober, steady and economical business man.  I want you to find out whether this is the case and report to me.”

“Won’t that be difficult?” asked Carl.

“Are you afraid to undertake anything that is difficult?”

“No,” answered Carl, with a smile.  “I was only afraid I might not do the work satisfactorily.”

“I shall give you no instructions,” said Miss Norris.  “I shall trust to your good judgment.  I will give you a letter to Mr. French, which you can use or not, as you think wise.  Of course, I shall see that you are paid for your trouble.”

“Thank you,” said Carl.  “I hope my services may be worth compensation.”

“I don’t know how you are situated as to money, but I can give you some in advance,” and the old lady opened her pocketbook.

“No, thank you, Miss Norris; I shall not need it.  I might have been short if you had not kindly paid me a reward for a slight service.”

“Slight, indeed!  If you had lost a bank book like mine you would be glad to get it back at such a price.  If you will catch the rascal who stole it I will gladly pay you as much more.”

“I wish I might for my own sake, but I am afraid it would be too late to recover my money and clothing.”

At an early hour Carl left the house, promising to write to Miss Norris from Chicago.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A startling discovery.

“Well,” thought Carl, as he left the house where he had been so hospitably entertained, “I shall not lack for business.  Miss Norris seems to have a great deal of confidence in me, considering that I am a stranger.  I will take care that she does not repent it.”

“Can you give a poor man enough money to buy a cheap meal?” asked a plaintive voice.

Carl scanned the applicant for charity closely.  He was a man of medium size, with a pair of small eyes, and a turnup nose.  His dress was extremely shabby, and he had the appearance of one who was on bad terms with fortune.  There was nothing striking about his appearance, yet Carl regarded him with surprise and wonder.  Despite the difference in age, he bore a remarkable resemblance to his stepbrother, Peter Cook.