Then the great man turned and looked on his ex-waiter at the Euclid House--the erect, well-built, well-dressed young man, standing hat in hand, with a curious blending of dignity and amusement on his face, and actually stammered, and muttered something about "not noticing, not thinking, not meaning, and everlasting obligations," in the midst of which the ex-coachman glanced at his watch, noticed the lateness of the hour in some dismay, signaled from the window a passing car, and hurriedly made his escape. This lengthy and unexpected interruption made a grievous tangle in his day's work. Arrived at the store he flew about in eager haste, and then rushed with more than usual speed to the bank. Just five minutes too late; the last shutter was being closed as he reached the steps. "The first failure!" he said to himself in a disappointed tone. "But it can hardly be said to be my fault this time." His next engagement was an appointment to dine with Mr. Stephens at four o'clock, and with that, too, he was a little behind time. "Well, sir," said Mr. Stephens, meeting him in the hall, "as sure as I'm alive you are five minutes behind time! I begin to be encouraged. It seems that you _are_ a compound of flesh and blood after all." Theodore smiled faintly; his peril was too recent for him to have regained his usual demeanor. "Here is your mail," he said, passing over a handful of letters and papers. "By being ten minutes late I was enabled to get the latest news, and I see there is a Lyons letter among them." "Ah," said Mr. Stephens, "that is fortunate for Lyons. Suppose we step into the library, Mallery, and see what they say for themselves." So the two passed into the business room and ran over the contents of the letter in question, as well as several others, conversing together in a manner which showed that the younger man had a marked knowledge of the other's business affairs, and that his opinions were listened to as if they carried weight with them. "But the mail was not what detained me," said Theodore, presently. "And Mr. Stephens, I was too late for the bank." "Well, it will do to-morrow, will it not?" queried the elder gentleman, composedly. "Oh yes, sir, it will _do_; but then you know it is not the way in which we do business." Mr. Stephens laughed. "I used to consider myself the most prompt and particular man living," he said, gaily; "but I believe you are going to make one several notches above me. I am really curious to know what has thrown you out of your orbit this afternoon." Theodore's face flushed. "I have been permitted to prevent a murder this afternoon, even after a father had furnished the weapons for his daughter's destruction," he said, speaking sharply. He was very savage on that question of intemperance. "Horrible!" said Mr. Stephens, looking aghast. "Mallery, what _do_ you mean?"