In that event Duncan might have a chance to gather up his belongings and escape unhandicapped by the immediate necessity of justifying his course. At another time, surely, the explanation was inevitable; say to-morrow; he was not cur enough to leave his friend without a word. But to-night he would willingly be spared. He apprehended unhappily the interview with Kellogg; he was in no temper for argumentation, felt scarcely strong enough to hold his own against the fire of objections with which Kellogg would undoubtedly seek to shake his stand. Kellogg could talk, Heaven alone knew how winningly he could talk! with all the sound logic of a close reasoner, all the enthusiasm of youth and self-confidence, all the persuasiveness of profound conviction singular to successful men. Duncan had been wont to say of him that Kellogg could talk the hind-leg off of a mule. He recalled this now with a sour grin: "That means me..." The elevator boy, knowing him of old, neglected to announce his arrival, and Duncan had his own key to the door of Kellogg's apartment. He let himself in with futile stealth: as was quite right and proper, Kellogg's man Robbins was in attendance--a stupefied Robbins, thunderstruck by the unexpected return of his master's friend and guest. "Good Lord!" he cried at sight of Duncan. "Beg your pardon, sir, but--but it can't be you!" "Your mistake, Robbins. Unfortunately it is." Duncan surrendered his luggage. "Mr. Kellogg in?" "No, sir. But I'm expecting him any minute. He'll be surprised to see you back." "Think so?" said Duncan dully. "He doesn't know me, if he is." "You see, sir, we thought you was out West." "So you did." Duncan moved toward the door of his own bedroom, Robbins following. "It was only yesterday I posted a letter to you for Mr. Kellogg, sir, and the address was Omaha." "I didn't get that far. Fetch along that suitcase, will you please? I want to put some clean things in it." "Then you're not staying in town over night, Mr. Duncan?" "I don't know. I'm not staying here, anyway." Duncan switched on the lights in his room. "Put it on the bed, Robbins. I'll pack as quickly as I can. I'm in a hurry." "Yes, sir, but--I hope there's nothing wrong?" "Then you lose," returned Duncan grimly: "everything's wrong." He jerked viciously at an obstinate bureau drawer, and when it yielded unexpectedly with the well-known impishness of the inanimate, dumped upon the floor a tangled miscellany of shirts, socks, gloves, collars and ties. "Didn't you like the business, sir?" "No, I didn't like the business--and it didn't like me. It's the same old story, Robbins. I've lost my job again--that's all." "I'm very sorry, sir." "Thank you--but that's all right. I'm used to it." "And you're going to leave, sir?" "I am, Robbins." "I--may I take the liberty of hoping it's to take another position?" "You may, but you lose a second time. I've just made up my mind I'm not going to hang round here any longer. That's all."