While he was thus engaged one of the office-boys laid some mail matter before him. He glanced it over. A loving letter from his mother, full of anxiety as to where he was and what he was doing. They had not heard from him in so long. Kate and his father sent dearest love. They were having a hard struggle with poverty; but they were so proud of him, he was doing so splendidly, that thinking and talking of him kept them cheerful.
Myles thrust this letter into his pocket with a groan. There was a long letter from Van Cleef, full of what he was doing, enlivened by gay bits of description of life at summer resorts. He would be back next week. A note from his old gentleman friend of the Oxygen, asking his dear proxy to dine at the club with him that evening. It was dated that very morning. Then a telegram. It was from Billings, and read:
“Operator says some mistake. Never loaned you any money. Tried to, but you refused. B. W. in town. Furious against you. Do not know what for. Shall I thrash him in your name? Answer.
This message diverted Myles’ gloomy thoughts for a moment. If the telegraph operator had not loaned him the money, who had? Here was a mystery. Well, whoever it was would claim his own fast enough. He would have to wait, though. As well try to extract blood from a stone as money from him now. He was not only penniless, but hopeless of ever earning another cent.
Now a couple of reporters came in. They had read the morning’s papers and were full of enthusiasm over the brave deed of one of their number. Seeing Myles at his desk they rushed up to congratulate him. This was more than the poor fellow could bear, and, hastily gathering up his papers, he hurried from the office, laying his key on Mr. Brown’s desk as he passed it.
The two reporters stared after him amazed and indignant.
“It is curious how stuck up some folks can get with a little notoriety,” said one.
“Yes,” replied the other, “too stuck up to accept congratulations from ordinary every-day chaps like us. Well, the next time he may congratulate himself, but you can safely depend upon it that I won’t run the risk of another such snub from him.”
As Myles went down stairs he thought he might as well collect his week’s salary, and stepped into the cashier’s office to do so. The usual little brown envelope was handed to him, and he put it into his pocket without stopping to open it there.