"I—I almost thought it was real," said Dean. "I was afraid she would drown." "And I dare say you wanted to punish the brutal ruffian?" "Yes, I did," admitted Dean. "Probably he and the girl are excellent friends in real life. Why, they are husband and wife," he added, referring to the play bill. "It doesn't seem possible." "I envy you, Dean. You enjoy the play much better than I do, for you believe in it while I know it for a sham—that is, I know it's merely play-acting. Look in the next row—you see there is some one who believes in it as much as you do." Guy pointed to a lady in plain, old-fashioned attire who was wiping her eyes. "She takes it worse than you do," whispered Guy. The play continued, and ended at last to the satisfaction of Dean, who saw all the bad characters visited with retribution, while oppressed innocence and virtue through much tribulation attained happiness and peace. When the play was over, they joined the throng and passed out through the lobby. Suddenly a cry was heard from a little distance in front. "I've been robbed! I've lost my pocket-book," and a small man with a red and excited face began to feel wildly in his pockets for his lost treasure. At a little distance pushing their way out, were two tall men, whom Dean recognized as Peter Kirby and his friend Pringle. While others in the immediate neighborhood of the victim were regarding him with looks of curiosity or sympathy these two seemed to feel no interest, and to be only intent on getting out into the street. CHAPTER XVIII. ON THE FALL RIVER BOAT. Dean didn't see his employer till the next morning. Mr. Kirby did not ask him where he had spent the evening previous, as Dean thought it possible he might do. Indeed he seemed in unusual good spirits, and handed his new clerk a couple of dollars to defray any expenses he might incur. "Are we going to stay long in New York?" Dean ventured to ask. "No, we go to Boston this afternoon by the Fall River line." This was a surprise to Dean, who fancied they were bound west. When he suggested this, Mr. Kirby said, "I have a little business to transact in Boston first. We can go West from there as well as from New York." Dean was not upon the whole sorry that he should have an opportunity of seeing a city so famous as Boston. "I shall feel that I am quite a traveler," he said to himself. During the forenoon he was called upon to bid good-bye to Guy Gladstone. That young man had concluded his arrangements for a visit to his Indian hunting grounds, and was in a hurry to leave New York, as he was liable at any moment to meet some friend of his father's who might detain him, or ask him questions which it would embarrass him to answer.