From a drug-store on Eighth avenue he telephoned back to Mrs. Regan, asking her to come to him there. "Don't let anything on to those guys at the gate," he warned her. "I want to keep out of sight for a few days." She came into the store in a breathless state of fluster. She was a good-hearted Irishwoman of considerable energy of character and a racy style of speech. But at present she was considerably overcome. "Oh, Mr. Norman! Oh, Mr. Norman!" she gasped. "Easy with my name!" warned Jack. "I'm going to be Mr. Robinson for awhile now." "Is it true what they say in the papers?" "More or less." "Oh law! To think of anything like this happening in my house! And the third floor rear hall at that! But that's always the way ain't it, like a story like? The telephone's been going like a Big Ben ever since twelve o'clock, asking for you. And you such a pleasant ordinary young fellow--not to say ordinary-like, but not stuck up at all, just like one of us!" She paused for breath. "Easy, Mrs. Regan," whispered Jack. "That clerk's got ears like a water pitcher." "I'll be careful. What did you want of me, Mr. Nor--Robinson?" "First, I want you to know my friend Jumbo," said Jack, handing him over. "Let him have my eats while I'm away." "Laws! Ain't he cute!" "I'll telephone in every little while for news. Please pack up my things for me. I'll tell you later where to send them." "You're going to leave!" cried Mrs. Regan. "But of course it's natural," she added quickly. "Don't you make any mistake," said Jack. "I'm not going to forget any of the friends who knew me when I was poor." "I done my best for you! But with prices the way they is----!" "I know. Now I want you to promise not to give out a thing about me, no descriptions of me, no information of any kind. I know it will be hard to resist those taking young reporters, but I ask it as a favor." "Oh, Mr. N--Robinson! Go on! At my age!-- It's little they'll get out of me, I can tell you!" "I knew I could bank on you. I'll tell you all about it some day. I've got to beat it now." "Good-by. Oh--wait! I almost forgot. I'm that excited! A messenger boy left a note for you at the door this evening. I brought it along." Jack took the note and left. Mrs. Regan, a little disappointed at not being taken further into his confidence, turned in the other direction. When she was out of sight, Jack stopped under a street lamp and examined what she had given him. It was a cheap, flimsy envelope much soiled. The address was scrawled in an illiterate hand. He opened it, and this was what he read: "_Jack Norman_: