The boy started. He had been hanging over his treasures and handling them, oblivious to everything around him. This gentleman, who knew his mother and had showered upon him so many benefits, was looking at him now with kind, serious eyes, and Bert became mindful of a little talk Mrs. Lowell had had with him this morning. He walked up to the lawyer and held out his slender hand. "I thank you--sir," he said. "Good boy. I will see you again before you leave," and, bowing to the others, Mr. Wrenn went out, Philip accompanying him to the elevator. "Thank you, Mr. Barrison, for your good offices," he said as they shook hands. "Never had so much fun in my life," said Philip. "Made me wish I had half a dozen of my own and the coin to treat them like that." The lawyer bent his heavy brows upon him and smiled. "Are events shaping themselves toward that end? That extremely charming young woman who has been making you the slave of the lamp is enough to turn any man's head." Philip flushed. "Any man's head _would_ be turned," he responded quickly, "if he thought of her as approachable. No, some common mortal for me some day, I hope, but she's a goddess, you know." The young fellow smiled and the lawyer still regarded him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Never let anything like money rob you," he said slowly and with emphasis. "Goddesses have been known to stoop to mortals before this." "I think her parents would see to that," responded Philip, laughing. The elevator came, and with one more nod of farewell the lawyer disappeared. "Fierce job he's got before him," muttered Philip as he returned to the dry goods, refusing to allow his mind to dwell on his new friend's surpassingly ignorant suggestions. Promptly at the appointed time Nicholas Gayne presented himself at the lawyer's office and was admitted to the sanctum. His air of assurance almost reached the swaggering stage, and his "How are you?" breathed a suggestion of a fortifying beverage. Without waiting for permission, he fell into the chair near the desk. "Well, are you satisfied?" he asked triumphantly. "Yes, I am satisfied that the boy is my old friend's grandson." "I knew you would be. Now, how soon do you think you can fix it up?" "Fix what up?" "The inheritance." "I told you the boy was not mentioned in the will." "I know that, but what's the law for if it can't get justice done?" came the impatient question, and Gayne's chin shot out belligerently. "It can and will get justice done," said Luther Wrenn slowly, "but it will take time." "Oh, of course, I know it will, but you can advance money on a sure thing, and I'll make it worth your while as soon as the cash is in my hands." "In yours?" The lawyer tapped his desk with a paper-cutter. "Yes. I told you the boy's delicate. He needs care." "I'm sure he does. It may take a year to straighten out the matter of the will."