"Will I? Watch 'em!" McSheen poured out another glass, and offered the bottle to Peck, who declined it. "Then it's all right. Well, you'd better make a cash payment down at the start," said the Labor-leader. McSheen swore. "Do you think I have a bank in my office, or am a faro dealer, that I can put up a pile like that at midnight? Besides, I've always heard there're two bad paymasters--the one that don't pay at all and the one 't pays in advance. You deliver the goods." "Oh! Come off," said the other. "If you ain't a faro dealer, you own a bank--and you've a bar-keeper. Mick's got it down-stairs, if you ain't. So put up, or you'll want money sure enough. I know what that strike's worth to you." McSheen rose and at that moment I became aware of the impropriety of what I was doing, for I had been absolutely absorbed watching Peck, and I moved back, as I did so, knocking over a chair. At the sound the light was instantly extinguished and I left my office and hurried down the stairs, wondering when the blow was to fall. The afternoon following my surprise of the conference in McSheen's back room, there was a knock at my door and Peck walked into my office. I was surprised to see what a man-of-fashion air he had donned. He appeared really glad to see me and was so cordial that I almost forgot my first feeling of shame that he should find me in such manifestly straitened circumstances, especially as he began to talk vaguely of a large case he had come out to look after, and I thought he was on the verge of asking me to represent his client. "You know we own considerable interests out here both in the surface lines and in the P. D. & B. D.," he said airily. "No, I did not know you did. I remember that Mr. Poole once talked to me about some outstanding interests in the P. D. & B. D., and I made some little investigation at the time; I came to the conclusion that his interest had lapsed; but he never employed me." "Yes, that's a part of the interests I speak of. Mr. Poole is a very careful man." "Very. Well, you see I have learned my lesson. I have learned economy, at least," I laughed in reply to his question of how I was getting along in my new home. He took as he asked it an appraising glance at the poor little office. "A very important lesson to learn," he said sententiously. "I am glad I learned it early." He was so smug that I could not help saying, "You were always economical?" "Yes, I hope so. I always mean to be. You get much work?" "No, not much--yet; still, you know, I always had a knack of getting business," I said. "My trouble was that I used to disdain small things and I let others attend to them. I know better than that now. I don't think I have any right to complain." "Oh--I suppose you have to put in night work, too, then?" he added, after a pause.