He was to all appearance of some twenty-eight or twenty-nine years of age, certainly not over thirty at the most. Tall and straight, with light hair, which he wore long about the neck, and mustache and side whiskers, trimmed in the latest style. Now, as the office was vacant, save for his own presence, this new stock clerk of Mr. Callister's--for it is this young man who has secured the position in the stock broker's office, the advertisement of which had attracted the keen eyes of Detective Hook, fell to thinking, and, as is the foolish custom of some people when alone, thinking aloud: "And so this is the beginning of my third week here," he muttered, as he paced the office floor up and down, in momentary expectation of the return of his employer from the closing of the Stock Exchange, "and so far all goes well. Mr. Callister certainly does not suspect me--has not from the first. That letter of Hook's procured from his cousin, the president of the Exchange, did the business; he hired me without the least suspicion in the world. "And to think that I should have been able to play this part for two whole weeks," he continued; "but I have done it, and I flatter myself that it has been well performed. Not for a moment has this man mistrusted that I am other than what I seem, while on my part I have learned much that will be invaluable----" Here his reflections were interrupted by the entry of the broker himself. He was as suave and sleek as ever. To use an old-fashioned expression, butter could not have melted in his mouth. "Ah, Mr. Maxwell, you are alone, I see. Although forced by circumstances to remain indoors, you are enjoying the beautiful afternoon, I trust?" "I am, Mr. Callister, as well as one can from the window away up here above the street." "Just so, Mr. Maxwell. My offices are somewhat elevated, but so much nearer to Heaven, my dear sir--so much nearer to Heaven--and when you come to consider, there is much that is beautiful in the thought. Have Ketchum & Bustem reported that lot of Wabash?" "Yes, sir." "And Brownell & Popkins the Brazilian sixes?" "Yes, Mr. Callister. Those were reported an hour ago." "Very good, Mr. Maxwell--very good, indeed. I have some important papers to prepare, and shall now retire to my private office. If any one calls, show them in." "Very well, Mr. Callister." "And, Maxwell?" "Sir." "Should you feel so inclined, I should be pleased to see you at our prayer-meeting to-morrow night, at the Tenth Baptist Church. I take the deepest interest in the welfare of all young men." Thereupon, Mr. Elijah Callister, smiling blandly, entered his private office, closed and locked the door. "You old hypocrite!" muttered the clerk, shaking his fist at the oaken panels. "You miserable, canting fraud. Never would I have believed you to be what you are had I not witnessed your duplicity and double dealing now daily for the past two weeks with my own eyes."