position with honour. The right man, too. For secretary you must have a man who is punctual, a teetotaler, and——" "Oh, but Jim isn't——" "Don't interrupt, Emily," said Gray, irritably; "you know what he means." "But he said——" "Oh, don't argue! What's the time? I want to run out for half an hour. I suppose you'll come as far as the corner—er—George?" "Jimmy, old friend," said George, with an affectionate glance, "you know I will." The next morning George and his landlord travelled to town together. Gray didn't take at all kindly to the new arrangement, but gave vent to his feelings in sudden outbursts of profanity. "I suppose I'm going to have you hanging to me like a leech as long as I've got a penny in my pocket," he said bitterly. George looked hurt. "It's your company I want, Jimmy," he said meekly. "A bachelor wants a cheerful pal. You ought to know that, you've been a bachelor yourself." "You'll have to clear out," said Gray, darkly. "I won't have you in my house, I tell you straight." There was an absence of sprightliness in Gray's manner at the office that day. He sat in gloomy solitude at his desk, nursing his wrath. All efforts on the part of Busby to draw him into conversation were useless. George, on the contrary, was in good spirits, so cheerful, in fact, that Parrott and Busby began to feel a little uncomfortable. "He's up to some mischief," thought the head clerk. "I shall have to keep my eye on him." His fears were confirmed a little later on in the afternoon. The freckled Matthews entered his office and asked permission for one of the carmen to speak with him. "Who is it?" asked Parrott. "Old Josh. Wants to see you particularly." Old Josh was ushered in—a little tubby, weather-beaten old man with a squeaky voice. He entered at once into a recital of family woes, in which his son-in-law, who was out of work, figured prominently. Before his daughter married the family had been comfortably off—always had a good dinner on Sundays, never knew what
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