Paul moved awkwardly toward the door. He wanted to add some word to conceal how worried, angry, and upset he really was, but he could think of nothing to say. It was ignominious to pass out of the room as if he were a whipped puppy. Men always terminated their business talks pleasantly, no matter how vexed they were with one another underneath. He must show Mr. Carter that he also could close an interview in true man's fashion. His hand was on the knob of the door now; but he turned. "Oh, by the way, Mr. Carter," he said with an off-hand air, "do you know where a person goes to sell a Liberty Bond?" It was the only topic of conversation he could think of. "Sell one?" "Yes, sir." The boy blushed. "In need of cash?" "I--yes; I'm thinking of getting rid of a fifty-dollar bond I have." "That's foolish. You'd much better keep it." Paul shook his head with sudden resolve. "I think if I can get rid of it without too much red tape, I'll let it go." "Want the money badly, eh?" "Y--e--s." "Your father know you are selling out?" "No, sir." The boy began to regret that he had spoken. "Oh--ho! So you're in a scrape, eh?" "No, it's not a scrape," protested Paul. "At least, not what you'd commonly call a scrape. It is just that--" "That you do not want to tell your father." "Not now." Mr. Carter winked. "I see," he said. He went to a drawer in his desk and innocently Paul watched his movements, wondering what he was going to do. Give him an address where he could sell his bond, no doubt. Instead Mr. Carter slipped a crisp bill from a roll in the drawer and held it toward him. [Illustration: "But I can't take your money, Mr. Carter," gasped Paul. _Page 137._] "I'll advance you fifty dollars on your bond," he said, "and no questions asked. I was a boy once myself." "But I can't take your money, Mr. Carter," gasped Paul, trying to hand the crackling bit of paper back again. "Pooh, pooh! Nonsense!" the man ejaculated, waving him off. "Call it a loan if you prefer. A loan with a bond for security is quite an ordinary business matter. It is only a trifle, anyway." "But--" "Run along! I have no more time to give to you. I have a directors' meeting at four. Ah, here's Mr. Dalton now. How are you, Dalton. Run along, youngster. Take the cash with you and welcome." Then he added in an undertone: "Just use your influence with your chums up at school, and we will say no more about this little loan. If you land the _March Hare_ in my hands the deal will be worth the fifty to me. Good night." CHAPTER XII TEMPORIZING