Don knew football. He had played right end on the second team. He also knew Princeton, and if the information he gave Blake about the team ever went back to New Jersey it did not do the coaching staff there any good. However, it furnished a subject for a pleasant half hour's conversation. Then Blake went out, and Don returned to his former place back of Powers's desk. "I'll bet you didn't get much out of him," observed Miss Winthrop, without interrupting the click of her machine. "He seems rather a decent sort," answered Don. "Perhaps he is," she returned. "He's a Princeton man," Don informed her. "He's Percy A. Blake," she declared--as if that were a fact of considerably more importance. He waited to see if she was ready to volunteer any further information, but apparently she considered this sufficient. At that point Farnsworth came out and took a look about the office. His eyes fell upon Don, and he crossed the room. He handed Don a package. "I wish you would deliver these to Mr. Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth," he requested. Farnsworth returned to his office, leaving Don staring helplessly at the package in his hands. "For Heaven's sake, get busy!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop. "But where can I find Mr. Hayden?" inquired Don. "Get out of the office and look up the firm in a directory," she returned sharply. "But hustle out of here just as if you did know." Don seized his hat and obeyed. He found himself on the street, quite as ignorant of where to find a directory as he was of where to find Mr. Hayden, of Hayden & Wigglesworth. But in rounding a corner--still at full speed--he ran into a messenger boy. "Take me to the office of Hayden & Wigglesworth and there's a quarter in it for you," he offered. "I'm on," nodded the boy. The office was less than a five minutes' walk away. In another two minutes Don had left his package with Mr. Hayden's clerk and was back again in his own office. "Snappy work," Miss Winthrop complimented him. "The closing prices must be out by now. You'd better look them over." "Closing prices of what?" he inquired. "The market, of course. Ask Eddie--the boy at the ticker. He'll give you a sheet." So Don went over and asked Eddie, and was handed a list of closing quotations--which, for all he was concerned, might have been football signals. However, he sat down and looked them over, and continued to look them over until Farnsworth passed him on his way home. "You may as well go now," Farnsworth said. "You'll be here at nine to-morrow?" "Nine to-morrow," nodded Don. He returned to Miss Winthrop's desk. "He says I may go now," he reported. "Then I'd go," she advised. "But I--I want to thank you." "For Heaven's sake, don't!" she exploded. "I'm busy." "Good-night." "Good-night." He took the Subway back to the Grand Central, and walked from there to the club. Here he found a message from Frances:-- Dad sent up a box for the theater to-night. Will you come to dinner and go with us?