Mark was so busy copying the papers which had been given to him that he had no time to think of his troubles, but once his step-father was gone a look of disgust crossed the boy's face. "I'm just about as sick of this as a fellow can be!" he murmured, as he walked across the office, to gaze out of the window to the street below. "It's getting worse and worse every day! I really can't see how I'm going to stand it much longer! I wish I was a thousand miles from here!" The office was a small affair, fronting on one of the main streets of Philadelphia. Next to it was another apartment, in which were located Mr. Powers' private desk and his safe--the latter an old-fashioned affair and scarcely fireproof. As Mark gazed out of the window he saw a commotion in the street--coming from a restaurant on the corner. Then the cry of fire was raised, and soon a crowd gathered, while a dozen people ran from the burning building. "A fire! I must see it!" cried the lad. He was dying for a little excitement, and rushed out of the office, slamming the door after him. He hurried downstairs and outside, and soon joined the crowd in the street. In those days--it was but the year 1848--fire engines were not what they are to-day, and it took some time for them to reach the locality of the conflagration. But fortunately, the fire did not amount to much, and in half an hour it was out and the crowd dispersed as rapidly as it had gathered. "Phew! I'll have to get back to the office--somebody may come in on business!" Mark told himself, and he ran back to the building with all speed. As he hurried up the stairs, he met a man coming down--a tall, slim individual, with a clean-shaven face. "Excuse me, were you looking for Mr. Powers?" asked the boy. He had never seen the man before. "No," was the quick answer. "I got into the wrong building. I was looking for No. 324," and without saying more the stranger descended quickly to the lower hall and disappeared into the street. "He is certainly in a hurry," thought Mark, and soon reached the door to the office--to find it standing wide open. "Humph! I thought I shut this," he added, as he entered. Everything seemed to be as he had left it, and having taken a look around, he began some more copying, keeping this up until half-past twelve, when his step-father returned and allowed him to go to dinner. "I want you to copy these papers this afternoon, Mark," said Jadell Powers, when the boy returned. "Mind, I want the work done nicely, and don't leave it until it is all finished." Mark took the papers and looked them over. There were many pages of fine writing. "I can't get these done to-day!" he cried. "Yes, you can!" "They'll take until to-morrow noon, sir. There are eighteen pages in this, and six pages of that----" "I want no back talk, young man!" stormed Jadell Powers. "You'll have those done by to-night. If not, I'll have an account to settle with you!" And he shook his fist at the boy.