The old gentleman drew a card from his pocket, containing his name and address, and on the reverse side wrote the name of the friend at whose office he felt sure the umbrella had been left, with a brief note directing that it be handed to the bearer.
"All right, sir."
"Stop a moment, my boy. Have you got money to ride?"
"No, sir."
"Here, take this, and go down at once in the next stage. The sooner you get there the better."
Frank followed directions. He stopped the next stage, and got on board. As he passed the City-Hall Park, Dick Rafferty espied him. Frank nodded to him.
"How did he get money enough to ride in a 'bus?" Dick asked himself in much wonderment. "A few minutes ago he wanted to borrow some money of me, and now he's spending ten cents for a ride. Maybe he's found a pocket-book."
Frank kept on his way, and got out at Wall street. He found Mr. Peckham's office, and on presenting the card, much to his delight, the umbrella was handed him.
"Mr. Bowen was afraid to trust me with it over night," said Mr. Peckham, with a smile.
"He thought some visitor might carry it off," said Frank.