"I'd much rather explain it you as you walk with me," Prescott urged, earnestly.
"Are—-are you from the building loan people?" asked Tom Drake, suddenly.
"No, I am not from them," Prescott replied, then added, truthfully enough: "But it's partly about that building loan matter that I wish to talk with you."
"Who sent you here?" asked Drake, half-suspiciously.
"A child," Dick replied. "At least, it was a child's face that gave me the resolution to come here and have a few words with you."
"A child?" repeated Drake. "What child?"
"Yours."
"A child?" echoed the young man. "Mine? Do you mean Mollie?"
"Yes," Dick went on, rapidly. "The child wanted to come here herself to get you, and I came in her stead. It was better that I should come than that little tot. Don't you think so?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand you," returned Tom Drake, beginning to look offended.