Angelo drew a deep sigh, and slowly twisted his head to look up into Peter's face. What he saw there caused him to start--to cry out--and then, with head bent before the array of silver he had been honest enough to redeem, to sob out his heart in a long string of thankful, reverent profanity. CHAPTER XXV A HIGH WALL The doors of the great columned façade of the New York Public Library were scarcely opened, on the following day, when a young man with eager Irish blue eyes and very red hair might have been, and probably was, seen, at least by the doorkeeper, making his way toward the Periodical Room. Probably, too, he was remembered for some little time by the young librarian in charge of the magazines, for not only was he of exceptionally pleasant address, but his wants, though definite, were astonishingly varied. He spent some time in going over the magazines which were brought to him, made several notes in a little worn leather-covered book, and once, when he referred back to places he had marked with cards in two previously examined periodicals, and compared them with the one in his hand, there was a gleam of satisfaction, triumph, perhaps, in his eye. At last he rose, and passing into the newspaper department, consulted a file of the New York _Planet_ for May. After that he left the library and proceeded, as rapidly as possible, to a small office building near Broadway, where the sign "Clancy and O'Malley" was modestly displayed in bronze upon the side post of the entrance. "Well, O'Malley," said Peter, plunging into his partner's private office, "I've had one hell of a time!" "That so?" said the old man, looking up with a hearty, welcoming glance into the face of his young colleague. "I got your wire, Pete. Glad you fixed it up with Morris. Sit down, lad, and tell me all about it." "Gee, O'Malley, I'd like to," said Peter, wearily, "but I can't tell yet whether I'll have the time. Oh, there you are, Jack," he broke off as a boy came into the room with several time-tables in his hand. "That's quick work, son. Now, let's see----" He dropped down upon a chair beside the desk, and began running through the time-tables at a rapid rate. "Are you off again, Pete?" asked O'Malley, anxiously. "You look done up, boy. I know your wire said that you might have to----" "Yes, and it spoke the truth," said Peter, hurriedly. "I've got to get the next train for Chicago that will connect with one going down to Cordenham. Cordenham," he repeated, running his finger down a column of names. "Here we are--Cordenham----" "For the love of Mike, Peter," said O'Malley, "what the devil, and where the devil is Cordenham?"