"Why, I don't rightly know," said he. "I make it a rule never to listen to foolish clacking. If a ship is lost, say I, she's lost; and the insurance should be paid over without delay. A few times--in the matter of the _Sea Mew_, particularly--I was afraid these people would grow offensive with their prying and their questioning. Mr. Sparhawk, who is well known to your uncle, seemed to be specially forward in this. I don't see how Captain Weir kept his patience at times, for it was usually the captain who received him, and Mr. Sparhawk's persistence must have been very trying." Sparhawk! Anthony recalled the perky little man whom he had met at Dr. King's, and he stored the name away for future reference. This conversation with Griggs occupied the best part of an hour, but Anthony got nothing from it; several times during the same week he returned to the task, but the result was the same. Griggs was a good-natured, honest, competent man in his work, but thick-headed. And so Anthony turned to Twitchell. When the subject of the house was touched upon, the gray old clerk began to beam. It was, so he held, a model for all other establishments; and that it was so highly regarded was most gratifying. When one mentioned its name to any one, a sound footing was entered upon at once. It was a pleasure to be connected with such a house; indeed, it was almost like being in government employ. And its ships were so famous! The merchandise it dealt in was so sought after! And every one about the premises, from the boy who swept the warehouse to the head of the business, had some jolly or endearing quality, so that it was the most enjoyable thing imaginable to be associated with them. Twitchell, with his silver-rimmed spectacles mounted upon his forehead, and his quill underscoring in the air all his points, maintained this level of unalloyed gratification and belief whenever Anthony approached the subject which interested him most. And finally the young man gave it up and took to sitting at a window and glowering at the winter street, the ice-choked river, and the empty ships, hung with their thousand crystal points of light. "First I have a dandy," growled Anthony, "who thinks of little but dress, pretty women, and his own importance. Next, a good-natured dunce; then a kindly soul, blinded by his own optimism. None of them ever see anything except what they are asked to see; and so what chance have I of coming on anything by way of them." Of course there was still Tom Horn. And Anthony smiled as he thought of him. Tom Horn never spoke to any one unless he was spoken to. All day he added, and subtracted, and multiplied, and dotted his "i's" and crossed his "t's." His white, nervous hands seemed tireless; his thin body was bent over the high desk where the great books of the house lay open before him. On the first morning Anthony spent in the counting-room Griggs said, behind his hand: "Don't mind Tom. A kindly chap and harmless, but queer."