“You didn’t take me for either of them, did you?” asked Tom.
“Oh, no; I knew you was A. T. Stewart,” said the boy, winking.
Tom laughed and walked up toward Broadway.
He was a little nervous about carrying so much money about with him. If he should lose it there would be no possibility of making it up. He put it into his inside coat pocket and buttoned up his coat tight.
As he was turning out of Wall Street he was addressed by a man of thirty or thereabouts, who had seen him come out of the office of Mellish & Co., though Tom did know that.
“My young friend,” he said, “have you five minutes to spare?”
Tom looked up at the clock on Trinity Church and saw that it was not yet eleven o’clock.
“Yes, sir,” he answered.
“I see you have no watch,” began the stranger.