“Present you the offer of Messrs. Bigelow, Higginson, & Co.,” said the other, with calm pertinacity. “Upon it depend your fortune and your son’s life.” “How long are you going to wait?” “Till evening. I leave to-night. Perhaps you would like to think this over. I’ll give you till three o’clock. If you decide to accept, all well; if not, I go back.” The stranger rose, and Potts unlocked the door for him. After he left Potts sat down, buried in his own reflections. In about an hour Clark came in. “Well, Johnnie!” said he, “what’s up? You look down--any trouble?” At this Potts told Clark the story of the recent interview. Clark looked grave, and shook his head several times. “Bad! bad! bad!” said he, slowly, when Potts had ended. “You’re in a tight place, lad, and I don’t see what you’ve got to do but to knock under.” A long silence followed. “When did that chap say he would leave?” “To-night.” Another silence. “I suppose,” said Clark, “we can find out how he goes?” “I suppose so,” returned Potts, gloomily. “Somebody might go with him or follow him,” said Clark, darkly. Potts looked at him. The two exchanged glances of intelligence. “You see, you pay your money, and get your papers back. It would be foolish to let this man get away with so much money. One hundred and two thousand five hundred isn’t to be picked up every day. Let us pick it up this time, or try to. I can drop down to the inn this evening, and see the cut of the man. I don’t like what he said about me. I call it backbiting.” “You take a proper view of the matter,” said Potts. “He’s dangerous. He’ll be down on you next. What I don’t like about him is his cold-bloodedness.” “It does come hard.” “Well, we’ll arrange it that way, shall we?” “Yes, you pay over, and get your documents, and I’ll try my hand at getting the money back. I’ve done harder things than that in my time and so have you--hey, lad!” “I remember a few.” “I wonder if this man knows any of them.” “No,” said Potts, confidently. “He would have said something.” “Don’t be too sure. The fact is, I’ve been troubled ever since that girl came out so strong on us. What are you going to do with her?” “Don’t know,” growled Potts. “Keep her still somehow.” “Give her to me.” “What’ll you do with her?” asked Potts, in surprise. “Take her as my wife,” said Clark, with a grin. “I think I’ll follow your example and set up housekeeping. The girl’s plucky; and I’d like to take her down.” “We’ll do it; and the sooner the better. You don’t want a minister, do you?” “Well, I think I’ll have it done up ship-shape, marriage in high life; papers all full of it; lovely appearance of the bride--ha, ha, ha! I’ll save you all further trouble about her--a husband is better than a father in such a case. If that Italian comes round it’ll be his last round.” Some further conversation followed, in which Clark kept making perpetual references to his bride. The idea had taken hold of his mind completely.