It was only five o'clock when Dan, returning from Jersey City, found himself again in front of the Astor House.

"Shall I buy any evening papers?" Dan asked himself. "No, I won't. I've made enough to satisfy me for one day."

Dan stood at the corner of Vesey street, glancing at the hurrying crowds.

He rather enjoyed his temporary freedom from business cares.

He had made a good day's work, the morrow's rent was provided for, and he felt like a gentleman of leisure.

All at once his attention was drawn to a low sob. It proceeded from a little flower-girl of ten years, who usually stood near the hotel.

"What's the matter, Fanny?" asked Dan, calling her by her name, for the little flower-girl was one of his acquaintances. "Haven't you sold as many bouquets as usual?"

"Yes," said Fanny, pausing in her sobs, "I've sold more."

"Then what's the matter? Has any one been teasing you?"

"No, but a young man passed a bad half-dollar on me."

"Let me see it."

Dan inspected the piece. He did not need to ring it, for it was dull in appearance and unmistakably bad.

"When did you take it?"

"Just now. A young man came up and bought a five-cent bouquet, and gave me this to change."

"Didn't you see that it was bad?"

"I didn't look at it till afterward. Then it was too late."

"So you gave him forty-five cents in good money, Fanny?"

"Yes," said the little girl, again beginning to sob.

"How many bouquets had you sold?"

"Seven."

"Then you have less money than when you began?"

"Yes, Dan."

"Do you think the fellow knew the piece was bad?"

"Yes, for he hurried away."

"Which way did he go?"

"Down Broadway."

"Maybe he was going to Jersey City."

"No, I saw him turn down Fulton street."

"Then he was going to Brooklyn. How did he look?"

"He was short and had red hair."

"How was he dressed?"

"He had on a gray suit."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"About five minutes."

"Give me the bad piece, and I'll go after him. Stay here till I come back."

Dan seized the money, and proceeded toward Fulton Ferry at a half run.

"I hope he won't have taken the boat," he said to himself. "If he has I shall lose him."

Dan nearly overthrew an apple woman's stand not far from the ferry, but did not stop to apologize. He ran into a fat gentleman who looked daggers at him, but kept on.

Breathless he paid his ferriage, and just succeeded in catching a boat as it was leaving the New York pier.

Thus far he had not seen the young man of whom he was in search.

"He may be on board the boat. I'll go forward," said Dan to himself.

He walked through the ladies' cabin, and stepped out on the forward deck. The boat was crowded, for it was at the time when men who live in Brooklyn, but are employed in New York, are returning to their homes.

Dan looked about him for a time without success, but all at once his eyes lighted up. Just across the deck, near the door of the gentlemen's cabin, stood a young man with red hair, holding a small bouquet in his hand. His face was freckled, his eyes small, and he looked capable of meanness.

Of course appearances are often deceptive, but not unfrequently a man's character can be read upon his face.

"That's the fellow that cheated poor Fanny, I'll bet a hat," Dan decided within himself. "He looks like it."

He immediately crossed to the other side of the deck.

The red-headed young man was talking to another young man of about the same age.

"Where did you get that bouquet, Sanderson?" asked the latter.

"Bought it of a little girl in front of the Astor House," answered Sanderson.

"That settles it," thought Dan.

He waited to hear what would come next.

"I suppose it is meant for some young lady," suggested the other.

"Maybe it is," answered Sanderson, with a grin.

Dan thought it was about time to come to business.

He touched the red-haired young man on the arm.

Sanderson looked round.

"Well, boy, what is it?" he asked.

"You bought that bouquet of a girl near the Astor House," said Dan.

"What if I did?" asked Sanderson, uneasily, for he had a suspicion of what was coming.

"You gave her a bogus half-dollar in payment," continued Dan.

"Do you mean to insult me?" blustered Sanderson. "Be off with you."

"I am sorry I cannot accommodate you," said Dan, "but I want you to give me a good piece for this first."

"I never saw that half-dollar before," said Sanderson. "I gave her good money."

"Perhaps you can prove that before the court," said Dan.

"What do you mean?" demanded Sanderson, uneasily.

"I mean that you have passed counterfeit money, and unless you give me a good piece for it I will give you in charge as soon as we reach the pier," said Dan, firmly.

Sanderson looked about him, and saw that the boy's charge was believed. Soon his friend looked disgusted. Dan followed up his attack.

"Fanny is a poor girl," he said. "I found her crying over her loss, for it was more than all the money she had taken to-day."

"Are you her friend?" asked Sanderson, sneering.

"Yes, I am," said Dan, stoutly.

"This is a put-up job between you two," said Sanderson.

"Gentlemen," said Dan, turning and appealing to the passengers near him, "this young man has passed a bad fifty-cent piece on a poor flower-girl. Shall he make it good?"

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed half a dozen, and several cried "shame!" with looks of scorn and disgust directed toward the young man with red hair.

"I don't believe a word of it," he ejaculated, in a rage. "I gave the girl a quarter."

"Too thin!" said several.

"But I'll give you the money to get rid of you," and he threw a half-dollar at Dan with a look very far from amiable.

"Thank you, sir; here's your money," said Dan.

Though Sanderson had disclaimed all knowledge of the bogus half-dollar, he took it and put it carefully in his pocket.

"Keep it to pay your washerwoman with," said a jeering voice.

It was a young fellow in the garb of a workman who spoke.

The boat touched the pier, and Sanderson was only too glad to hurry away from the unfriendly crowd.

"You're a smart boy!" cried a keen-looking businessman, addressing Dan. "How did you discover that this fellow was the one that passed the coin."

"Fanny described him to me."

"Then you hadn't seen him before?"

"No, sir."

"What are you doing for a living?"

"Selling papers, sir."

"You are fit for something better. Come and see me to-morrow."

He placed in Dan's hands a card bearing the firm's name

Barton & Rogers,

Commission Merchants,

No. — Pearl street.

"My name is Rogers," he continued. "Inquire for me."

"Thank you, sir."

Dan was so pleased at having recovered Fanny's money that he gave little thought to this last incident, though it was destined to exert an important influence on his fortunes. He took the same boat back to New York, and hurried to the Astor House.

Little Fanny, the flower-girl, with a sad look upon her face, was still standing in her wonted place.

"I've got your money back, Fanny," said Dan.

"Oh, have you?" exclaimed Fanny, joyfully.

"Yes; I made the fellow give it up."

"Oh, how kind you are, Dan!"

There was a listener to what passed between the two children. A tall lady, standing at the corner of the street, regarded them attentively. She was evidently revolving some plan in her head. As Dan was about turning away, she placed her hand on his arm.

"Young man," she said, "I want to speak to you."

"All right, ma'am," said Dan, surprised.