If Chelsea expected Taylor would resent the offer of a loan, he had overestimated the man, at least in the case in hand; for all men in the mad rush eventually reach the rash limit of their financial means, and Taylor had run the gamut! He had to meet an obligation that night, and it was this fact that made him play for a high stake. Exposure, indeed, was close on his heels. If his creditors did as they threatened to do, he would soon be looking for another position. He saw in Chelsea’s loan a straw to which he might cling, consequently when two new one hundred dollar bills were thrust into his hand, it closed on them, though tremblingly. The fine sense of honor drilled into him at home by his stately Canadian father had given him a stab, for the moment. He knew he had accepted the money with scarcely a hope of returning it! But family pride went down before the crush of circumstances. “I shan’t forget you!” he said to Chelsea George, swallowing hard; “I’ll be here next Saturday night at nine, and, well--” “My dear old chap, don’t mention it! Mr. Wales and I dine at the Sinclair House to-morrow evening at eight. We’d like to have you join us. We’re just looking about town and taking in the sights, you know. In the meantime don’t worry about this trifling, blasted loan.” English George, too, warmly pressed Taylor to accept their hospitality. He promised, and so the Georges and the young bank clerk parted. “The young feller’s up against it, and is good for a stunt,” said English, resuming his natural self. “He’ll be useful!” was Chelsea’s short answer. The young bank clerk had come to New York bright, innocent, and ambitious. His gilt-edged references procured him a responsible position in a leading down-town wholesale mercantile house, and from there he soon went to a clerkship in the Ocean Bank. There appeared to be the material in him out of which the successful banker is made, so his promotion was rapid and his salary grew proportionately. It is not my purpose to be misleading; therefore, when I say his salary was increased, I do not mean that it was what it should have been. There is no doubt, to my way of thinking, that his compensation was too small when compared with his ability. Indeed, I believe that a more generous recognition of his talents would have been better for him and his employers. Taylor was on hand promptly to dine with the two Georges, who were lavish in their supply of wines. It was a mellow trio, indeed, that were about to separate at midnight, John Taylor feeling particularly flushed with his frequent libations. “I’ve got a scheme, Taylor, old fellow, and you can make a good commission in it!” Chelsea was saying, as he puffed a ring of cigar smoke over his head, and blew another ring quickly after, and through it. “Heap sight better ’n faro at Morrissey’s,” put in English, with a laugh; “in fact, my boy, it’s a dead sure thing!”