"In fives and tens." In a short time a thick roll of bills was handed to Gerald which he put in his inside vest-pocket. A man just behind him was waiting his turn, and Gerald turned away and left the bank. He would have felt less tranquil had he known that he was being watched by a tall, thin man who was hovering near the door. When Gerald left the bank this man followed him at a distance. Gerald paused at a street stand, where there was a display of knives at low prices. He bought one with three blades for fifty cents, and turning into Ann Street, then as now occupied by pedlers displaying their stock in trade in wagons, he walked along slowly, curiously interested in the goods on exhibition. He was looking at some wallets when the tall man, who had arranged his campaign, tapped him on the shoulder. Gerald turned in surprise. "How are you, Jack? When did you come to the city?" asked the man, heartily. "You have made a mistake," said Gerald. "My name is not Jack." "Are'n't you Jack Mortimer of New Rochelle?" said the other in apparent surprise. "No; my name is Gerald Lane." "I beg your pardon, Mr. Lane, but you are the exact picture of Jack. Jack is a fine looking boy of sixteen and my very good friend." Gerald was human, and this adroit flattery impressed him favorably. "Then I am sorry I am not Jack," he said, smiling. "You don't need to wish yourself any one else," said the man, significantly. "Then you don't come from New Rochelle?" "No; I am from Portville." "Portville?" repeated the other, musing. "I don't think I know any one in Portville. I suppose you are in the city for the day?" "I may stay longer." "I wish you could spare time to call at my house. I should like to have my wife see you. She knows Jack Mortimer well, and I am curious to see whether she would be deceived by the resemblance as I was. By the way, let me introduce myself. My name is Brand—William Brand." "I am glad to have met you, Mr. Brand." "Don't you think you could go up to my house and take lunch?" "Where do you live?" asked Gerald. It occurred to him that he really had nothing to occupy his time, and might find it agreeable to accept Mr. Brand's invitation. "On West Twelfth Street, near Sixth Avenue. We could go up on the Sixth Avenue cars. If you are not familiar with New York, I might, perhaps, point out some landmarks on the way. But it is rather early. Isn't there anything I could show you down here?" "I have always wanted to cross the Brooklyn Bridge." "It is close at hand. Come with me and we will cross it." "I shouldn't like to take up your time, Mr. Brand." "Don't mention it. I am having a vacation this week, at any rate, so that it will be no inconvenience to me." "Then I will accept your kind invitation." The man turned and led the way up Nassau Street, and then by the World building till he reached the entrance to the bridge. Gerald surveyed it with great interest.