"Ben, then. It is no sort of a name compared to the one I have been giving you. I've been calling you Sir Galahad."
Ben smiled at her blissfully. "Nice," he said. "I don't believe Miss Upton went beyond that."
"Oh, please go on, Mr. Barry—Ben—Sir Galahad."
"Why couldn't our cheerful friend have shown you any checks he drew to your father's name and claim that they were forged?"
Geraldine's eyes shone. "I never thought of that."
"Of course I cannot be sure of it. I would far rather get something definite on the old scamp."
Geraldine shuddered. "He is so cruel. He is so rough to that poor little fellow Pete. Think what I owe that boy! He managed to get your message to me even when threatened with his master's whip. Mr. Carder saw you speaking to him and questioned him."
"Oh, you mean that nut who took my letter?"
"The hero who took your letter. He had to lie outside my door every night to keep me from escaping, and he slipped your message under it. Where should I be now but for him? Poor child, he is as friendless as I am"—Geraldine interrupted herself with a grateful look at her companion—"as I was, I mean. He had to follow me and guard me wherever I went, always keeping at a distance, because he mustn't speak to me and the ogre was always watching. How I thank Heaven," added Geraldine fervently, "that Mr. Carder himself had called Pete off duty for the first time before the—the archangel swooped down from the sky."
"I'm getting on," said Ben. "If you keep on promoting me, I'll arrive first thing you know."