In the short time before the Juno left for Bar Harbor, Schuyler Roper became quite intimate with Jed. There was never a trace of condescension in his manner to his boy friend, but Jed was always treated as if in birth and position he was the equal of the young patrician. Together they walked about the city, and frequently dined together, always at some expensive hotel or restaurant.

"What time is it, Jed?" asked Mr. Roper one day as they were passing the Star Theatre.

"I am afraid I left my watch at home," answered Jed, smiling.

"Then we shall have to supply its place."

Schuyler Roper turned the corner of Fourteenth Street, and led the way to Tiffany's well-known establishment on the corner of Fifteenth Street and Union Square.

"Let us see some gold watches," he said to a salesman.

A tray of handsome timepieces was produced.

"How expensive a watch would you like, sir? Is it for yourself?"

"No, for this young gentleman. Look over these watches, Jed, and see what one you like best."

Jed made choice of a very neat gold watch with a handsome dial.

"What is the price?" asked Mr. Roper.

"A hundred and twenty-five dollars."

Jed opened his eyes wide in astonishment. A hundred and twenty-five dollars seemed to him a very large sum, and so unaccustomed was he to expensive jewelry that he had not known that there were any watches so costly.

"Very well; we will take it. Show me some gold chains."

Choice was made of a fifty-dollar gold chain. It was attached to the watch, and Mr. Roper, handing it to Jed, said, "Put it in your pocket."

"Do you really mean the watch and chain for me?" asked Jed, almost incredulous.

"Certainly."

"How can I thank you, Mr. Roper?" said Jed gratefully.

"My dear boy," rejoined Roper kindly, "I want your appearance to do me credit. That you will do me credit I feel confident."

It was about this time that Jed met an old acquaintance—one whom he had no reason to remember with kindly feelings. He had occasion to go across Cortlandt Street ferry, when on board the boat he saw in front of him a figure that seemed familiar. He walked forward till he could see the face of the young man to whom it belonged. Then it flashed upon him that it was Maurice Graham, the young man who had invited him to his room on Twenty-Seventh Street and robbed him of his small stock of money.

Now that the tide had turned, Jed did not feel so incensed against the fellow as at first. Still he determined to let him understand that he knew exactly how he had been swindled.

He touched Graham on the shoulder, and the young man wheeled round with an apprehensive look, which he did not lose when he saw and recognized Jed.

"Did you touch me?" he asked, with an evident intention of ignoring Jed's acquaintance.

"Yes, Mr. Graham. We parted rather suddenly, you remember," said Jed significantly.

"Oh, I see. You are——"

"Jed Gilman."

"I was wondering what became of you. I was called up town to the house of a sick friend that evening, and when I went back the next day Mrs. Gately told me you had gone away."

"Indeed! Did she tell you that I was robbed of thirty-five dollars during the night, and that I awoke penniless?"

"No," answered Graham faintly. "I am surprised."

"I thought you might be. Are you in the habit of borrowing money from people who are asleep?"

"What do you mean? You don't think I took the money?"

"Yes, I think you did."

"Why, didn't I tell you that I spent the night with a sick friend in—in Eighty-Seventh Street. How could I rob you?"

"You came back during the evening and found me asleep."

"That's a mistake!" said Graham quickly.

"It is true. Mrs. Gately let you in, as she informed me the next morning."

Maurice Graham looked very much disconcerted, and looked eagerly to the Jersey shore, which they were fast approaching.

"Do you know that I would have had no breakfast if Mrs. Gately had not taken compassion on me?"

"You don't look—very destitute—now."

"I am not. I have been lucky enough to find a good position. But that thirty-five dollars belonged to me. How much of it can you return to me?"

Maurice Graham colored and looked embarrassed.

"I—the fact is," he stammered, "I'm almost broke."

"Is this true?"

"On my honor I've only got a dollar and ten cents in my pocket, and I don't know what will become of me when that is gone."

"You have got rid of it very quick."

"I've been a fool," said Graham gloomily. "I spent it mostly on pool and drinks. Then of course I've had to live."

"But your situation——"

"I haven't any."

"Perhaps you will meet another boy from the country."

"I treated you awful mean—I know I did," burst out Graham, "and I've been very sorry for it. I've often wished that I had left you five dollars."

"Well, that would have helped me. But don't you think it would have been better to have left me the whole?"

"Yes, it would; but I am very unlucky."

"I am afraid you don't deserve good luck. Isn't there anything you can do?"

"Yes."

"Can't you find another broker to take you in his office?"

"I never was in a broker's office," confessed Graham.

"What was your business, then? I suppose you had some way of making a living?"

"I am a barber by trade, but I got tired of the confinement, and so I thought I'd become a sport. I started out with a hundred dollars which it took me a year to save up, and I got rid of it in two weeks. Then I fell in with you."

"And with my thirty-five dollars."

"Yes."

"The best thing you can do is to go back to your business."

"I would if I could."

"Why can't you?"

"Because my razors are in hock."

It is the custom of journeymen barbers to supply their own razors and a pair of shears for hair-cutting.

"I suppose that means in pawn?"

"Yes."

"When can you get a place if you get your razors back?"

"I can go to work to-morrow."

"What sum will get them out?"

"Four dollars and a half."

"Where are they?"

"In a pawnshop on the Bowery."

"Come with me and I will get them out for you if you will promise to go to work."

"I will," answered Graham earnestly. "I'll give you my word I will."

"Come back on the next boat, then, and I will go with you to the pawnshop."

"It will take up your time. You don't mean to give me in charge when we reach New York?" said Graham apprehensively.

"No; I am willing to give you a fresh chance. I hope you will improve it."

Jed took out his watch to note the time.

"Is that watch yours? It's a beauty," said Graham.

"Yes; it came from Tiffany's."

"Did you have it when I met you?"

"No; if I had, that would have gone the same way as the money."

"You must be awfully lucky!"

"I suppose I have been. At any rate I have been honest."

"Honesty seems to pay. I must try it."

"I advise you to," said Jed, smiling.

When Jed parted from Graham it occurred to him that he would call on Mrs. Gately. She had provided him with a breakfast when he needed one, and seemed kindly disposed towards him.

When he rang the bell of the small house on Twenty-Seventh Street, Mrs. Gately herself came to the door.

"Did you wish to see me, sir?"

"You don't remember me, Mrs. Gately?"

The old lady peered through her glasses.

"Why bless me!" she said, "if it isn't the young man from the country. But you're dressed so fine I hardly knew you. I hope you're prosperin'."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Gately. I have been quite lucky, but I was pretty low in spirits as well as in pockets when I left you."

"Why, you're lookin' fine. Won't you stay for supper? Luella Dickinson will be home soon—she that tends at Macy's. I've often spoken to her about you. Luella's very romantic."

"I am not, Mrs. Gately, and I'm afraid I can't stop. I must be on board my yacht in an hour."

"Your yacht! Bless me, you don't mean to say you've got a yacht?"

"Well, it belongs to a friend, but we enjoy it together."

"Have you seen the bad young man who robbed you?"

"Yes; I saw him this afternoon."

"You don't say! Did you have him arrested?"

"No; I helped him get some things out of pawn."

"That's a real Christian act, but I don't think I'd have done it. You deserve to prosper. I wish you could stay and meet Luella."

"Some other time, Mrs. Gately."

At supper the landlady told Miss Dickinson of Jed's call. Luella expressed great regret that she had not seen him.

"I should fall in love with Mr. Gilman, I know I would," she said. "Why didn't you ask him to call at Macy's?"

"I will when I see him again."