"No, I couldn't," answered Grant, shortly. "I'd give you half the profits." "I haven't got the money," Grant explained. "That's a pity. The fact is, I'm rather short. However, I know plenty of fellows in the city, and I guess I can raise a tenner or so." "Then your credit must be better in New York than in Colebrook," thought Grant, but he fore-bore to say so. Grant was rather glad the little package of pearls was in the pocket furthest away from Tom, for his opinion of his companion's honesty was not the highest. When half an hour had passed, Tom vacated his seat. "I'm going into the smoking car," he said, "to have a smoke. Won't you come with me?" "No, thank you. I don't smoke." "Then it's time you began. I've got a cigarette for you, if you'll try it." "Much obliged, but I am better off without it." "You'll soon get over that little-boy feeling. Why, boys in the city of half your age smoke." "I am sorry to hear it." "Well, ta-ta! I'll be back soon." Grant was not sorry to have Tom leave him. He didn't enjoy his company, and besides he foresaw that it would be rather embarrassing if Tom should take a fancy to remain with him in the city. He didn't care to have anyone, certainly not Tom, learn on what errand he had come to the city. Two minutes had scarcely elapsed after Tom vacated his seat, when a pleasant-looking gentleman of middle age, who had been sitting just behind them, rose and took the seat beside Grant. "I will sit with you if you don't object," said he. "I should be glad of your company," said Grant, politely.