“My name is John Somers.”
“Hanged if the old chap ain’t got the same name as I have,” said Will to himself.
“Well, I’ll swim round your way some time afore long,” he said, aloud. “Live out Arch street, hey? That’s grandeur.”
“I am wealthy, my lad, and alone in the world. I try to do some little good with my money. I owe you a debt of gratitude which I wish to repay.”
“All right. I’m your hoss,” said Will, energetically. “Don’t want no gratitude, an’ nothin’ else I don’t earn with my fingers and toes. But I’ll get round jist to see how you live.”
After some few words more Will’s visitor departed leaving that young gentleman in a whirl of suppressed amusement.
Will went reflectively back to his work.
At the same hour that Will was holding this interview with the grateful old gentleman, John Elkton was holding an interview of another character with his betrothed.
He had received a brief note from her that morning, vaguely detailing the suspicions in regard to her silken bow, and asking him to meet her.
The letter had produced a strong effect on his mind. He read it again and again, the mystery remaining unexplained to him. He could only understand that he had been accused of some crime.