"Very well, sir."
Lane went out and got breakfast on Fulton Street.
"I hope I have seen the youngster for the last time," he said to himself.
There was one awkward thing in his way. He would have preferred to leave the city at once, but outside of the English notes, he had scarcely any money, and it would be necessary to wait till ten o'clock, when he could call at some broker's and exchange them for American bills.
Lane went into the Astor House and entered one of the small reading rooms on the second floor.
Then, for the first time, he opened the envelope and examined his booty.
To his great disappointment, he found but half the sum he expected to find—but ten pounds in place of twenty.
"Confusion!" he muttered. "Was the boy deceiving me? He certainly said that he had twenty pounds."
The explanation of the discrepancy readily suggested itself. The boy had placed the balance of the notes somewhere else.
"I wish I had had the sense to examine the envelope before I left the room."