"Don't shoot! Mercy, mercy!" Mr. Wattles picked up the knife. "Allston," he said, "go for a policeman." As Al turned to leave the room, Farley cried, imploringly: "Wait! Wattles, old man, I didn't know what I was doing. The fact is, I have been drinking pretty hard lately, but I shall be all right in a day or two." "You don't expect to get back in my employ again, do you?" the manager asked, sternly. "No, no, I don't. All I ask is that you will not utterly ruin all my chances for life by having me arrested. Things look bad enough for me without that." "Very well, Farley, I'll let you off this time, but I warn you to keep out of my way in the future." "If I keep straight and show you that I am at my best we may do business together again, eh, Wattles?" "No, sir; I shall never have anything more to do with you." "Perhaps you'll think better of that. You haven't had time to fill my place yet." "I've got a better man for your place than you ever were," said the manager. "Who is he?" demanded Farley. "There he stands;" and Mr. Wattles pointed to Al. "That kid?" gasped Farley. "That young gentleman," said the manager, with theatrical impressiveness. Farley stared at the boy a few moments without speaking; then, with a peculiar smile, he said: "So you are an advance agent, are you, bub?" "So it seems," replied Al, as coolly as he could. "Well, you won't remain one long; I will see to that. Take my advice and quit the business before the temperature gets too high. See? Yes, I think you do. I don't propose----" "Look here," interrupted Mr. Wattles, "I've had just about enough of this. Are you going to get out or are you not?" Farley backed toward the door. "I am," he said. "Ta, ta, Wattles! Ta, ta, my young friend! But we shall meet again, and don't you forget, either of you, to paste that fact in your hat." And he swaggered out of the room. "The impudent scoundrel!" exclaimed Mr. Wattles. "I let him off too easy. If I am not mistaken, we shall have more trouble with him." "Never mind about him," interrupted Al. "Do you know that it is almost eight o'clock, Mr. Wattles?" "Good gracious! So it is! And Mrs. Anderson----" "It's all right." "She will appear?" "Sure." The manager grasped his companion's hand. "Allston," he said, "you are a wonder." "That's just what you want for an advance agent, isn't it?" the boy asked, with a laugh. "Yes. Did she come with you?" "No, but she is probably here by this time." "How did you do it?" "I'll tell you some other time, sir." "That's right; we have no time to waste in talk now. I'll go and see if she has arrived. I should be in a nice fix if she changed her mind again." "She won't, Mr. Wattles." Scarcely hearing the last words, the manager rushed from the room.