You wait here.

I'll find a way to coax him out for you." Soon the door opened again, and there came out Prescott's messenger followed by a clean-cut, well-built young man of not more than twenty-eight years of age.
"There's the young man who says he wants to see you," the citizen explained, pointing to Dick.
Tom Drake walked steadily enough.

He certainly was not yet much under the influence of liquor.
"You wanted to see me ?" he asked, looking somewhat puzzled as he eyed young Prescott.
"Yes," Dick admitted.
"What about ?" "Will you take a short walk with me," Dick went on, "and I'll explain my business to you." "I don't believe I can take a walk with you," Drake answered.
"I'm with some friends in there." He nodded over his shoulder at the door through which he had just come.
"But my business is of a great deal of importance," Dick went on.
"Can't you see me to-morrow ?" asked Drake, eager to get back to his companions.
"To-morrow will be altogether too late," Dick replied.
"Then state your business now." "I'd much rather explain it you as you walk with me," Prescott urged, earnestly.
"Are---are you from the building loan people ?" asked Tom Drake, suddenly.
"No, I am not from them," Prescott replied, then added, truthfully enough: "But it's partly about that building loan matter that I wish to talk with you." "Who sent you here ?" asked Drake, half-suspiciously.
"A child," Dick replied.

"At least, it was a child's face that gave me the resolution to come here and have a few words with you." "A child ?" repeated Drake.

"What child ?" "Yours." "A child ?" echoed the young man.