the insurance office came out, and demanded to know what he meant by bursting the wire-netting door in such a rude fashion.
"A man knocked me down the steps," Matt explained. "I hope the door isn't ruined."
"Hardly, but there's a hole in it."
"The wire has broken from under the molding, that is all," said the boy. "Let me see if I can't fix it."
He brought out his penknife, and loosened part of the molding. Then drawing the wire back into place, he tacked the molding fast again; and the door was as good as before.
But all this had taken time, and Matt knew it would now be useless to attempt to follow Paul Garden. He looked around the corner, and seeing nothing of the fellow, retraced his steps to Randolph Fenton's establishment.
"Where in the world have you been so long?" demanded Mr. Fenton, as Matt entered the private apartment. "Here I have been waiting an hour for you to deliver a message to Ulmer & Grant. I hire you to be on hand when wanted, Lincoln; not to loaf your time away."
"I was not loafing my time away, Mr. Fenton," returned Matt calmly. "There was a private matter I had to attend to, and"
