"One of the clerks knows me."
"Then I wish you would do me a favor. My name is Charles Shotmore. I come from Lexington. I received a money order yesterday from my aunt, with whom I reside, and I want to get the order cashed."
"Well?"
"Won't you identify me? Of course, it's a mere matter of form, but it places one in a regular hole if one is not known," went on the man glibly. "You know they are very particular just at present, although they didn't used to be."
"But I don't know you," said Robert, with considerable surprise.
"I have just told you my name—Charles Shotmore, of Lexington. My aunt's name is Caroline Shotmore. And your name is——?" The man paused, expecting Robert to fill in the blank.
But the youth had seen enough of city life to make him shy of strangers, and he did not mention his name.
"Never mind about my name," he said coldly.
"Won't you identify me?"