At present Caleb Annister could see no way of bringing this about. He decided to go out for dinner, thinking, perhaps, some plan might occur to him.
As he was walking along the street he almost collided with a man who was hurrying along in the opposite direction.
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Mr. Annister.
"Certainly. My fault entirely," replied the other. "I—why, if it isn't Caleb Annister," he went on. "How are you?"
"Phelan Baker!" cried Mr. Annister, in a tone of surprise. "I thought you were out West."
"I was, but I arrived in New York this morning."
"And how are Sutton and Hynard?" went on Mr. Annister. "I haven't seen them since that affair of—"
"Hush! Don't mention such things in public," cautioned Mr. Baker, for what Mr. Annister referred to was a swindling game in which Baker and his cronies had been involved, and the discovery of which had made it necessary for them to leave the city awhile.
"The boys are all right," went on Mr. Baker. "Tupper is with them. In fact they came on to New York with me. We were delayed on the road." He did not say this was caused by the necessity for fleeing after robbing Mortimer De Royster. "We're at the same hotel. By the way," he went on, "you couldn't lend me fifty dollars; could you? I'm short, and the boys have very little. We haven't had any luck lately. I'd like fifty dollars for a few days. Can you let me have it?"
"I'm sorry," began Mr. Annister. "I'd like to, but the truth is I have some heavy bills to meet, and people who owe me money, have not paid me. Otherwise—"