"No, thank you, Mike," was the young man's answer. "That bag has very little in it. And, besides, I haven't got to carry it far."
The next morning Paul was the first of the three to arrive. The clerks were in their places already, but neither the senior nor the junior partner had yet come. The porter happened to be standing under the wagon archway as Paul Whittier was about to enter the store.
The young man saw the porter, and a mischievous smile hovered about the corners of his mouth.
"Mike," he said, pausing on the door-step, "do you think you ought to smoke while you are cleaning out our office in the morning?"
"Sure, I haven't had me pipe in me mouth this mornin' at all," the porter answered, taken by surprise.
"But yesterday morning?" Paul pursued.
"Yesterday mornin'!" Mike echoed, not a little puzzled.
"Yesterday morning at ten minutes before eight you were in the private office smoking a pipe."
"But how did you see me, Mr. Paul?" cried Mike, in amaze. "Ye was late in comin' down yesterday, wasn't ye?"
Paul smiled pleasantly.