“Of course we will.  Your friend should see something of the city.”

“You’re the feller that can show him.  Well, we must be goin’.  It’s lunch time.”

Tom pulled out a watch, which, if not gold, was of the same color as gold, and the two sauntered away.

“What in the world can Tom have found to do?” Grant wondered.

CHAPTER XIV

WILLIS FORD’S NEW FRIENDS

When Harry Decker left the office at the end of two weeks, Grant was fully able to take his place, having, with Harry’s friendly assistance, completely mastered the usual routine of a broker’s office.  He had also learned the names and offices of prominent operators, and was, in all respects, qualified to be of service to his employer.

Mr. Reynolds always treated him with friendly consideration, and appeared to have perfect confidence in him.  For some reason which he could not understand, however, Willis Ford was far from cordial, often addressing him in a fault-finding tone, which at first disturbed Grant.  When he found that it arose from Ford’s dislike, he ceased to trouble himself about it, though it annoyed him.  He had discovered Ford’s relationship to Mrs. Estabrook, who treated him in the same cool manner.

“As it appears I can’t please them,” Grant said to himself, “I won’t make any special effort to do so.”  He contented himself with doing his work faithfully, and so satisfying his own conscience.

One evening some weeks later, Grant was returning from a concert, to which the broker had given him a ticket, when, to his great surprise, he met Willis Ford walking with Tom Calder and Jim Morrison.  The three were apparently on intimate terms.

“Good-evenin’, Grant,” said Tom.

“Good-evening, Tom.”

Grant looked at Willis Ford, but the latter’s lip curled and he did not speak.  Grant, however, bowed and passed on.  He was surprised at the intimacy which had grown up between Ford and those two, knowing Ford’s spirit of exclusiveness.  He would have been less surprised had he known that Morrison had first ingratiated himself with Ford by offering to lend him money, and afterward had lured him into a gambling house, where Ford, not knowing that he was a dupe, had been induced to play, and was now a loser to the extent of several hundred dollars, for which Morrison held his notes.

“I don’t know when I can pay you,” said Ford, gloomily, when he came to realize his situation.

“Oh, something will turn up.” said Jim Morrison, lightly.  “I shan’t trouble you.”

Two weeks later, however, he lay in wait for Ford when he left Wall Street.

“I want to speak to you a moment, Mr. Ford,” he said.

“Well, what is it?” asked Ford, uncomfortably.

“I am hard up.”

“So am I,” responded Willis Ford.

“But you owe me a matter of six hundred dollars.”