Frank went inside as Randy appeared with his cash box. Jolly remained where he was. Finally Pep came into view briskly, happy faced and excited. “Someone to see you--that man over there,” advised Jolly. “Is that so? Stranger to me. Want to see me?” he went on, approaching the stranger. “If you are Pepperill Smith.” “That’s my name,” vouchsafed Pep. “The same young man who was the guest of Mr. Tyson at Brenton?” “Guest!” retorted Pep, in high scorn. “Oh, yes, I was a guest! Fired me the first time he got mad.” “Oh, well, we all have spells of temper we are sorry for afterwards,” declared the man smoothly. “Is Mr. Tyson sorry?” challenged Pep. “He is, for a fact. You see--well, he gave you some papers, cheap stocks or bonds; didn’t he, instead of cash for your services? He thought maybe you’d rather have the money. I’ve got a one hundred dollar bill for you. If those papers are lying around loose you might hand them over to me.” “I haven’t got them,” said Pep, and the man looked disappointed. “Maybe my friend preserved them. Oh, Mr. Jolly,” and Pep called the pianist over to them and explained the situation. “H’m!” commented Jolly thoughtfully, when Pep had concluded his story, and glancing keenly at the stranger, “you seem to have discovered some value to the stock you refer to.” “Oh, I suppose these stock brokers know how to juggle them along,” responded the stranger, with assumed lightness. “Well, as I understand it, they were given to my friend Smith.” “Undoubtedly--why, yes, that is true.” “As their custodian,” continued Jolly, “I want to look into this matter.” “I wouldn’t. Waste of time. All a tangle,” insisted the stranger. “Look here, let me give the boy two hundred dollars.” “You can give Pep all you want to,” observed Jolly, “but I shall advise him to see how the market stands on that stock before he delivers those securities.” “Hum! ha! quite so,” mumbled the stranger in a crestfallen way. “And we will let Mr. Tyson know our decision in a day or two.” “I see--well, I will report the result of my negotiation to my client.” “Negotiation? Aha! Client? A lawyer, then,” observed Jolly, as the man reluctantly moved away. “Pep Smith, I’ll investigate that stock of yours with the first break of dawn. There’s something more to this than appears on the surface.” * * * * * “Wasn’t that Jack Beavers I just saw you talking to?” inquired Hal Vincent of Frank, as the latter approached him on the boardwalk. “Yes, poor fellow,” replied Frank. “I have been having quite a conversation with him.” “Making a poor mouth about his misfortunes, I suppose?” intimated the ventriloquist.