"Take my pocketbook and pay him," said the old man.
The hackman did not venture to ask more than his rightful fare, as it would have come to the knowledge of the broker, whom he did not care to offend.
The driver paid, Fred ascended the steps and rang the bell.
A man servant opened the door.
"Is Mr. Wainwright at home?" asked Fred.
The servant, seeing an old man in rather a rusty dress, was inclined to think that he was an applicant for charity, and answered rather superciliously:
"Yes, he's at 'ome, but I ain't sure as he'll see you."
"Tell him," said Fred sharply, "that his uncle has arrived."
"His uncle!" repeated the astounded flunkey. "O yes, sir, certainly, sir. I think he is at 'ome. Won't you step in, sir?"
Fred would have gone away, but the old gentleman still seemed to require his assistance, and he stepped in with him and led him into the drawing-room.