"Oh, I'll get him all right," the young man said. "We haven't much of a place here to wait, but if you'll come with me, we'll find him," he assured me. He stepped back to let me pass out in front of him to the street, and once on the sidewalk, he fell behind me a moment so that he might walk next to the curbing. Oh, that young man had beautiful manners! I'll always remember them. It was just the noon hour and he met lots of men that he knew. To each one he raised his hat as if he'd had a princess with him. They returned his bow in the same manner, with a curious look at me. "They think," he laughed pleasantly, "I'm taking you to the game this afternoon!" I flushed. I wanted to say, "I wish you were." If I had been the pretty girl whom we had just passed, in the black lynx, with a little round fur hat with a red flower on it, it would have been easy to smile, glance sidewise, and say pretty things. But from under my black felt sailor, side glances wouldn't be attractive. I kept my eyes straight ahead. "You can explain to them afterward," I said. He left me in a drug-store. "I'll get him!" were his last words as he raised his hat. I waited three quarters of an hour. It was after one o'clock when I saw Oliver push open the big plate-glass door. He had been hurrying. His face was red, his eyes startled and frightened, his hair tossed a little under the cap he wore. At sight of me he stopped, then strode up to me, where I was sitting on a stool by the soda-fountain. "You!" he gasped. "You! For heaven's sake, Bobbie, what are you here for?" "I telegraphed," I explained. "Didn't you--" "No," he broke in, "I've had no telegram. What's the trouble anyhow? Who's dead? Who--" "Why, Oliver," I replied calmly, "nobody's dead." Then in a lower tone, "I've come with the money," I said. "The money! Why didn't you mail it?" he fired. "Your letter didn't come till this morning, and--isn't the meeting to-day?" "Oh, yes," he said still annoyed; "but there was no such rush. I've managed to borrow enough to fix _that_ up. Oh, I knew I better not rely on your getting it here, and so a friend of mine lent me enough to tide me over." We had moved away from the soda-fountain and were talking in low tones beside a display of fancy soap. "Then why--?" I began. "Oh, because," he took me up, "I've got to pay Holmes back. No man of any respect owes money to a friend for a longer time than he can help. But Holmes didn't expect it till next week. It was absolutely crazy, your coming way down here. You went to my room, didn't you? What do you suppose the men will think? Do you know who it was told me you were here? Blanchard! Blanchard! A Senior! One of the biggest men here! Heavens, when he told me a girl wanted to see me--You don't have any idea of propriety, Lucy!"