Hastily rolling down his shirt-sleeves and shrugging himself into his coat, he made for the store, buttoning his collar and knotting his tie on the way. He found Blinky nosing round the room, quite alone. Betty had disappeared, and the old scoundrel was having quite an enjoyable time poking into matters that did not concern him and disapproving of them on general principles. So far as the improvements concerned old Sam Graham's fortunes, Blinky would concede no health in them. But with regard to Duncan there was another story to tell: Duncan apparently controlled money, to some vague extent. "You're Mr. Duncan, ain't you?" he asked with his leer, moving down to meet Nat. "Yes, sir. Mr. Lockwood, I believe?" "That's me." Blinky clutched his hand in a genial claw. "I'm glad to meet you." "Thank you," said Duncan. "Something I can do for you, sir?" "Wal, Pete Willin' was tellin' me you'd just took up this note of Graham's?" "Not exactly; the firm took it up." Blinky winked savagely at this. "The firm? What firm?" "Graham and Duncan, sir. I've been taken into partnership." "Have, eh?" Blinky grunted mysteriously and fished in his pocket for some bills and silver. "Wal, here's some change comin' to the firm, then; and here," he added, producing the document in question, "is Sam's note." "Thank you." Duncan ceremoniously deposited both in the till, going behind the soda fountain to do so, and then waited, expectant. Blinky was grunting busily in the key of one about to make an important communication. "I'm glad you're a-comin' in here with Sam," he said at length, with an acid grimace that was meant to be a smile. "Oh, it may be only temporary." Nat endeavoured to assume a seraphic expression, and partially succeeded. "I'm devoting much of my time to my studies," he pursued primly; "but nevertheless feel I should be earning something, too." "That's right; that's the kind of spirit I like to see in a young man.... You always go to church, don't you?" "No, sir--Sundays only." "That's what I mean. D'you drink?" "Oh, no, sir," Duncan parroted glibly: "don't smoke, drink, swear, and on Sundays I go to church." The bland smile with which he faced Lockwood's keen scrutiny disarmed suspicion. "I'm glad to hear that," Blinky told him. "I'm at the head of the temp'rance movement here, and I hope you'll join us, and set an example to our fast young men." "I feel sure I could do that," said Duncan meekly. Lockwood removed his hat, exposing the cranium of a bald-headed eagle, and fanned himself. "Warm to-day," he observed in an endeavour to be genial that all but sprained his temperament. Indeed, so great was the strain that he winked violently. Duncan observed this phenomenon with natural astonishment not unmixed with awe. "Yes, sir, very," he agreed, wondering what it might portend. "I believe I'll have a glass of sody."