A hasty packing of a traveling bag and the cashing of a check at the cigar store down on the corner.

A wakeful night while the train clattered along upon its journey.

Then morning and walking of streets until office hours.

At last: "I 'm Robert Fairchild," he said, as he faced a white-haired, Cupid-faced man in the rather dingy offices of the Princess Building.
A slow smile spread over the pudgy features of the genial appearing attorney, and he waved a fat hand toward the office's extra chair.
"Sit down, Son," came casually.

"Need n't have announced yourself.