"Certainly not. I will leave on to-night's train for Montreal, or on the first train that goes." Young Mr. Brown slipped the photograph into his pocket and shook hands with the banker. Somehow his confident, alert bearing inspired the old man with more hope than he would have cared to admit, for, as a general thing, he despised the average young man. "How long can you hold out if this does not become public?" "For a month at least; probably for two or three." "Well, don't expect to hear from me too soon. I shall not risk writing. If there is anything to communicate, I will come myself." "It is very good of you to take my trouble on your shoulders like this. I am very much obliged to you." "I am not a philanthropist, Mr. Temple," replied young Brown. * * * * * When young Mr. Brown stepped off the train at the Central Station in Toronto, a small boy accosted him. "Carry your valise up for you, sir?" "Certainly," said Brown, handing it to him. "How much do I owe you?" he asked at the lobby of the hotel. "Twenty-five cents," said the boy promptly, and he got it. Brown registered on the books of the hotel as John A. Walker, of Montreal. * * * * * Mr. Walter Brown, of Rochester, was never more discouraged in his life than at the moment he wrote on the register the words, "John A. Walker, Montreal." He had searched Montreal from one end to the other, but had found no trace of the man for whom he was looking. Yet, strange to say, when he raised his eyes from the register they met the face of William L. Staples, ex-cashier. It was lucky for Brown that Staples was looking at the words he had written, and not at himself, or he would have noticed Brown's involuntary start of surprise, and flush of pleasure. It was also rather curious that Mr. Brown had a dozen schemes in his mind for getting acquainted with Staples when he met him, and yet that the first advance should be made by Staples himself. "You are from Montreal," said Mr. Staples, alias John Armstrong. "That's my town," said Mr. Brown. "What sort of a place is it in winter? Pretty lively?" "Oh, yes. Good deal of a winter city, Montreal is. How do you mean, business or sport?" "Well, both. Generally where there's lots of business there's lots of fun." "Yes, that's so," assented Brown. He did not wish to prolong the conversation. He had some plans to make, so he followed his luggage up to his room. It was evident that he would have to act quickly. Staples was getting tired of Toronto. Two days after Brown had his plans completed. He met Staples one evening in the smoking-room of the hotel. "Think of going to Montreal?" asked Brown. "I did think of it. I don't know, though. Are you in business there?" "Yes. If you go, I could give you some letters of introduction to a lot of fellows who would show you some sport, that is, if you care for snow-shoeing, toboganning, and the like of that."