Half an hour later he entered the office of a firm of commission brokers on lower Broad Street, and inquired if a gentleman by the name of Mr.

Malcolm Dunn was connected with that establishment. On being answered in the affirmative, he asked if Mr. Dunn were in. Yes, he was.

"Well," said Captain Elisha, "I'd like to speak to him a minute or so.

Just tell him my name's Warren, if you don't mind, young feller."

The clerk objected to being addressed as "young feller," and showed his disapproval by the haughty and indifferent manner in which he departed on the errand. However, he did so depart, and returned followed by Malcolm himself. The latter, who had been misled by the name into supposing his caller to be Stephen Warren, was much astonished when he saw the captain seated outside the railing.

"Good afternoon," said Captain Elisha, rising and extending his hand: "How are you to-day, sir? Pretty smart?"

The young man answered briefly that he was all right. He added he was glad to see his visitor, a statement more polite than truthful.

"Well, what's up?" he inquired, condescendingly. "Nothing wrong with Caro or Steve, I hope."

"No, they're fust-rate, thank you."

"What's doing, then? Is it pleasure or business?"

"Well, a little of both, maybe. It's always a pleasure to see you, of course; and I have got a little mite of business on hand."

Malcolm smiled, in his languid fashion. If he suspected sarcasm in the first part of the captain's reply, it did not trouble him. His self-sufficiency was proof against anything of that sort.

"Business," he repeated. "Well, that's what I'm here for. Thinking of cornering the--er--potato market, were you?"

"No-o. Cranberries would be more in my line, and I cal'late you fellers don't deal in that kind of sa.s.s. I had a private matter I wanted to talk over with you, Mr. Dunn; that is, if you ain't too busy."

Malcolm looked at him with an amused curiosity. As he had expressed it in the conversation with his mother, this old fellow certainly was a "card." He seated himself on the arm of the oak settle from which the captain had risen and, lazily swinging a polished shoe, admitted that he was always busy but never too busy to oblige.

"What's on your mind, Captain?" he drawled.

Captain Elisha glanced about him somewhat uneasily.

"I--I don't know as I made it quite clear," he said, "that it was sort of private; somethin' just between us, you understand."

Malcolm hesitated. Sliding from the settle, and impatiently commanding the clerk to open the gate in the railing, he led his caller through the main office and into a small room beyond. On the gla.s.s pane of the door was lettered, "Mr. Dunn--Private." A roll-top desk in the corner and three chairs were the furniture. Malcolm, after closing the door, sprawled in the swing chair before the desk, threw one leg over a drawer, which he pulled out for that purpose, and motioned his companion to occupy one of the other chairs.

Captain Elisha took the offered chair and dropped his hat on the floor beside it. Then he inspected the room and its furnishings with interest.

Dunn drew out a pocket case, extracted a cigarette, lit it, and waited for him to speak.

"Well," observed the young man, after a moment, "what's the trouble, Admiral? Better get it off your chest, hadn't you? We're private enough here."

The captain answered the last question. "Yes," he said, "this is nice and private. Got a stateroom all to yourself; name on the door, and everything complete. You must be one of the officers of the craft."

"Yes."

"Um-hm. I sort of expected to find your name on the door outside, but there 'twas, 'Smith, Haynes & Co.' I presume likely you're the 'Co.'"

"_I_ 'presume likely,'" with mocking impatience. "What about that private matter?"

Captain Elisha did not appear to hear him. His eyes were fixed on several photographs stuck in the rail of Mr. Dunn's desk. The photos were those of young ladies.

"Friends of yours?" inquired the captain, nodding toward the photographs.

"No." Dunn took the photos from the rack and threw them into a pigeon hole. "Look here," he said, pointedly, "I wouldn't hurry you for the world, but--"

He paused. Captain Elisha did not take the hint. His mind was evidently still busy with the vanished photographs.

"Just fancy pictures, I s'pose, hey?" he commented.

"Doubtless. Any other little points I can give you?"

"I guess not. I thought they was fancy; looked so to me. Well, about that private matter. Mr. Dunn, I come to see you about an automobile."

"An automobile!" The young man was so astonished that he actually removed his feet from the desk. Then he burst into a laugh. "An automobile?" he repeated. "Captain, has the influence of the metropolis made you a sport already? Do you want to buy a car?"

"Buy one?" It was Captain Elisha's turn to show irritation. "Buy one of them things? Me? I wouldn't buy one of 'em, or run one of 'em, for somethin', _I_ tell you! No, I don't want to buy one."

"Why not? Sell you mine for a price."

"Not if I see you fust, thank you. No, Mr. Dunn, 'tain't that. But one of the hired help up to our place--Caroline's place, I mean--is in trouble on account of one of the dratted machines. They're poor folks, of course, and they need money to help 'em through the doctorin' and nursin' and while the old man's out of work. Caroline was for givin' it to 'em right off, she's a good-hearted girl; but I said--that is, I kind of coaxed her out of it. I thought I'd ask some questions first."

"So you came to me to ask them?" Malcolm smiled contentedly. Evidently the cares and complications of guardianship were already proving too intricate for the unsophisticated countryman. He wished advice, and had come to him for it, possibly at Caroline's suggestion. Affairs were shaping themselves well. Here was an opportunity to act the disinterested friend, as per maternal instructions.

"So you wanted to ask questions, did you, Captain?" he repeated. "Well, fire away. Anything I can do to help you or Caroline will be a pleasure, of course. Smoke?"

He offered the cigarette case. The captain eyed it dubiously and shook his head.

"No," he said; "no, thank you, I commenced smokin' at the b.u.t.t end, I guess. Begun with a pipe, and them things would seem sort of kindergarten, I'm afraid. No offense meant, you understand. It's all accordin' to what you've been used to. Well, about the questions. Here's the first one: Don't it seem to you that the right one to pay for the doctorin' and nursin' and such of Mr. Moriarty--that's Annie's pa--ought to be the feller who hurt him? That feller, instead of Caroline?"

"Sure thing! If you know who did it, he's your mark."

"He could be held responsible, couldn't he?"

"Certainly."

"Um-hm. So I thought. And if he was a right-minded chap, he'd be glad to help the poor critter, providin' he knew what damage he'd done; wouldn't you think so?"

Malcolm nodded sagely, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. A sudden recollection came to him, an alarming recollection. He turned in his chair and looked at his visitor. Captain Elisha met his gaze frankly.

"Where did this accident happen?" asked Mr. Dunn, his condescending smile absent.

"At the corner of Saint Nicholas Avenue and One Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Street. It happened last Friday mornin', a week ago.

And the car that hit him was a yellow one."

Malcolm did not answer. His pale face grew paler, and then flushed a brilliant red. The captain seemed to feel sorry for him.

"Naturally," he went on, "when I heard about it, I remembered what you told Mr. Sylvester and me at the club that afternoon. I understand how 'twas, of course. You never thought you'd done any real harm and just went on, thinkin' 'twas a good joke, much as anything. If you'd known you'd really hurt the poor old man, you'd have stopped to see him. I understand that. But--"

"Look here!" interrupted Dunn, sharply, "did Caroline send you to me?"