When Mr. Boise had gone Tom sat at the switchboard, but he had lost all interest, for the present, in the law book. It was closed, and his thoughts were all centered on the queer happenings in which he was involved. It was getting rather late, and the building was gradually becoming quiet, as the various tenants passed out and closed up their offices. Tom wondered how long he would have to stay, and whether he had better send some word to his mother about the delay. Then he decided it would be best not to. He might have to go home with bad news soon enough--news that he had been discharged--though he knew he was innocent, and he hoped Mr. Boise would be able to prove this. Presently the door of Mr. Cutler’s room opened, and that lawyer came out. “Has Mr. Boise returned yet?” he asked. “No, sir.” “Have all the clerks gone?” “I believe so.” Mr. Cutler started into Mr. Keen’s room. He looked in, to discover that his partner was not there. “Has Mr. Keen gone home?” he inquired. “I believe so.” “Look here!” exclaimed Mr. Cutler suddenly, coming close to Tom, “why don’t you get out of here.” “Get out of here? What do you mean?” “I mean before Mr. Boise returns. He’ll probably find out exactly what you did, and then he’ll discharge you. If you go now, he’ll not have the opportunity, and you’ll stand a better chance of getting another place.” “Why, that would be running away!” exclaimed Tom indignantly. “That would be like admitting I was guilty.” “Well, aren’t you?” “No, sir!” “Oh, come now,” went on Mr. Cutler, in a more friendly tone than he had ever before used toward Tom. “I think I know all about how it happened. You felt a little grieved--perhaps because I have scolded you once or twice. You wanted to get even, and, when you heard that conversation about the dam, you determined to mention it to the lawyer on the other side. Of course, it was very wrong, but I don’t believe you’ll do it again. “I want to help you, even if you did wrong. Now I’m advising you for your own good. You can leave now, and I’ll tell Mr. Boise you are sorry for what you did. He’ll forgive you, I’m sure. I’ll even help you get another job.” “Do you mean you think me guilty, yet you would help me get another position like this?” asked Tom, determined to see how far Cutler would go. “Well--er--maybe not a place like this, in a law office, for they would be sure to ask questions. But I’d get you a good place. Come, now, you’d better leave before Mr. Boise gets back with the proof of your guilt.” “I don’t see how he can get proof of my guilt, when I am not guilty.” “Oh, I understand all about that,” went on the lawyer, earnestly, as though he was anxious to hurry Tom to a decision. “I was young once myself. You acted hastily. I think I can explain it to Mr. Boise.”