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Pettigrew was not long in reaching his home after leaving the toboggan slide. Miss Mathers happened to live in his direct route, and this was probably one of the reasons that induced him to offer to be her escort, for he was a man who always liked to husband his strength, without some tangible object could be otherwise gained.

Mrs. Pettigrew, his mother, had not retired, but was still waiting his arrival. His perpetual smile, usually so much in evidence, vanished when he entered the house; but, strange to say, it reappeared upon her face. Her features bore a strong resemblance to those of her son, while her figure, tall and spare, was bent over with her weight of threescore years.

"Home late, Thomas, but I waited up for you," she said, placing his chair by the stove. "Did you go to the slide?"

"Huh, huh!" he replied. "There was a pretty good thing happened there, too."

"What was it?" she ejaculated.

"Why, Bob Thornton got taken down a peg. He's captain of the club, and prides himself on his management. This is the first night, and, to show how he can fill the bill, one of the sleds got smashed, and all the fellows on it were pitched into a gully."

"He, he, he!" chuckled the dame. "I reckon Miss Finlayson wa'n't on that sled."

"No, she was on Bob's confounded toboggan."

"So you got riled, did you? Never mind, you'll be even with him yet, or my name ain't Deborah Pettigrew."

There was a moment's pause. Then, without turning toward his mother, he remarked—

"I am going to Hamilton to-morrow."

"What for?"

"Business of importance," was the laconic answer.

She nodded her head several times reflectively, and, looking at him again, asked—

"Does old Thornton know?"

"Yes, I got a letter to-night, and told him I had to go and see my sick uncle."

"Well, you're a good one."

Pettigrew was no laggard. To use his own sapient expression when conversing with intimates—"He had not lived thirty years in the world for nothing."

Whatever the object he had in view might be, it did not prevent him from securing several hours' sleep, and rising a good while before daylight. His mother was up too, and, crooning over the stove, quickly prepared his breakfast. By arrangement made the previous evening he was driven over to the W—— Station of the G. W. R. in time to catch the east bound train, and arrived in Hamilton not much after ten o'clock.

He had still well on to an hour before the time of his appointment with Grantham and Scott, the wholesale grocers, so he took a walk to add lucidity to his thoughts. Strange that he should forget the uncle so dangerously ill, and so desirous of meeting his loving and dutiful nephew!

Precisely at eleven he presented himself at the warerooms of the merchants. The clerk showed him into the private office. Mr. Grantham was alone.

"Good morning! Mr. Pettigrew, I believe," he said blandly. "Take a chair, sir. Glad to see you."

The visitor returned the salutation, and carefully closing the door, accepted the proffered seat.

"Ahem!" said Mr. Grantham. "I believe you wished to see us confidentially, with regard to the business interests of your employer, Mr. Thornton, of Linbrook?"

"You have not put it quite correctly, sir," replied Pettigrew, whose little gray eyes were closely scrutinising the merchant. "I think you expressed a desire to see me."

"Ah! was that it? At any rate it arose out of correspondence which originated with yourself," said Mr. Grantham, who in turn was taking a mental inventory of his visitor. "Mr. Scott spoke to me about your coming. He is on his way from Montreal just now, and won't be home until the evening; but I am at your service, and ready to advise with you."

"You can ask me any questions," said Pettigrew; "but anything I say will of course be confidential."

"Certainly, certainly; and under the circumstances I speak for Mr. Scott as well as myself. First of all, are Mr. Thornton's affairs in as deplorable a condition as we would naturally suppose from the tenor of our correspondence?"

"I did not exaggerate at all in anything I said," was the answer.

"Well, if Mr. Thornton were to fail in business, would you be prepared to carry it on in your own name?"

"That depends on circumstances," said Pettigrew, putting on a shrewd expression of face; "particularly on the figure that the present stock can be purchased for."

"What other creditors are there besides ourselves? Do you know?"

"Yes, I have with me an inventory of their names and the amounts of the respective liabilities."

"I suppose you do the book-keeping?"

"Not altogether, but I have done it together with Mr. Thornton for the past two years."

"Curious coincidence, that it is only during this period that Mr. Thornton has been going back in his payments."

As he spoke, Mr. Grantham wheeled his chair round on its screw, and looked in a far-off way at Mr. Pettigrew, who winced, but kept his face rigid.

"What a contemptible knave you have proved," said the merchant to himself, and then aloud—

"Well, if it should come to a deal, what amount of cash could you furnish?"

"I could pay a couple of thousand for stock and book accounts, and perhaps another thousand for new goods."

"Anything more than that?"

"That's all they are worth."

"Would you want a partner to go in with you?"

"No. I must have all or nothing."

"Hem! that's a characteristic motto!" exclaimed Mr. Grantham with an almost imperceptible sneer, "but business is business. You have lived long enough to know that, Mr. Pettigrew. We are all sorry for Mr. Thornton, or any other honest man, who struggles along successfully for a while, and then collapses and fails. Still, the work has to go on. And if he can't do it, somebody else must. And for my part I don't see why you shouldn't be that man. I don't doubt you in the least. It's only a matter of form; but have you papers with you that will establish your financial position?"

"Certainly," replied Pettigrew, displaying a number of securities, including vouchers from the Bank of Montreal, which he took from his pocket-book.

"They are all right," exclaimed Mr. Grantham, with a nod of gratification. "Your securities are undoubted. Now about Mr. Thornton himself. He has done business with us for more than ten years; and I shall be very sorry indeed if anything happens to him."

"So shall I," said Pettigrew; "but if he can't continue the business, he can't, that's all."

"As nearly as you can, tell me what his true position is."

"Well, the store is heavily mortgaged. You know the amount of his indebtedness to your firm. Then, besides smaller items, he owes more than half that amount to Moreton of Montreal for dry goods. A year ago he made a bad spec. in butter; and this fall another in wheat. To make matters worse, last year's grain was a partial failure with the farmers, and they have not been able to pay up."

"But I thought his son was carrying on a heavy lumbering business this winter, to balance off the crop failure?"

"That was the intention. There are some logs coming in; but young Thornton's a greenhorn, and what can you expect? Besides, if sleighing were to break up soon, lumbering, like the rest, would be a dead letter."

"You draw a black picture, Mr. Pettigrew. By the way, what time do you leave the city?"

"I have nothing to keep me further than this business."

"Well, as I said, I expect Mr. Scott to return to-night. If you can remain until to-morrow, we can talk the matter over with him. Let me see, can you not dine with us this evening at six o'clock? Mrs. Grantham, I am sure, will be glad to see you."

"Thank you. I shall do so with pleasure." And one of Mr. Pettigrew's broadest smiles appeared, as he bowed himself out.

He then left to spend the intervening time at his uncle's, whose imaginary illness was his pretext for leave of absence.

Punctual to the hour appointed, Pettigrew presented himself at the Grantham residence. Here he was wined and dined, and in due course escorted by his host to the house of Mr. Scott, that gentleman having returned to the city at the time specified.

Towards evening, however, the firm had received another communication from Linbrook, relative to the Thornton business, which put the matter in a somewhat different light. Mr. Grantham did not consider it advisable to mention this to Pettigrew; though he took care to have a long conversation with Mr. Scott over the whole matter, before they unitedly discussed the situation with the would-be purchaser.

As a consequence, in the general conversation which followed, they were too astute to commit themselves to any definite policy; merely affirming that if a change did occur, which was not unlikely, Pettigrew should have the first chance.

"And is this all I get for my trouble?" he asked, on taking his leave.

"It is really a good deal," said Mr. Scott. "Mr. Thornton's stand from a business point of view is one of the best of its kind in Upper Canada. I really don't see how it is that he has made such a mess of it. Any man with backbone and energy should have made it a big success; and you are lucky indeed to have the promise of the first option. The whole thing is unaccountable. There must have been a tremendous leakage somewhere."

"It has been shocking bad management," said Pettigrew with averted face. "And it is time there was a change. When you want to make it, you can call upon me, and I will be ready." Saying which, he shook hands with the partners and took his leave.

"That man needs watching," said Mr. Scott.

"I believe you are right," echoed Mr. Grantham, as they kept their eyes upon his retreating figure.

But there were others busy besides Thomas Pettigrew after the tobogganing was over that night. When Robert arrived home, he found his father in a very unsettled state of mind, discussing with his mother the prospective visit of the clerk to the city.

"Pettigrew going to Hamilton!" he exclaimed, when he heard the news. "What on earth is he going for?"

"He says his uncle is dangerously ill, and desires to see him at once. He received word by the evening mail."

"Strange that he didn't mention it to me. He was at the slide nearly all the evening, and I had more than one conversation with him; but he never hinted either at the illness or the visit."

"Perhaps that was because you and he are not particularly good friends."

"I wonder if his explanation was the correct one," said Robert. "His actions sometimes savour of duplicity. Did he tell you what was the matter with his uncle?"

"No. In fact I did not think to ask him."

"It is a long time since I lost confidence in that man," said Mrs. Thornton, who thought she had read his character more accurately than her husband had.

"But what special object could he have in view?" queried Mr. Thornton, who was slow to perceive that the claim for leave of absence could be anything but a genuine one.

"I don't know," replied Robert; "but the whole thing looks suspicious, when you remember that your most pressing creditors are in Hamilton, and that Pettigrew has been constantly saving money; while you, his employer, have been losing it."

"Well, whatever object he has in view," exclaimed Mr. Thornton petulantly, "we can't stop him from going. The vital question with us now is, how am I to appease these men, and put them off until we get a chance?"

"What do you think, mother?" Robert asked in a quiet tone.

"I am opposed to trying to borrow any more money," was her answer; "and though I have one thousand dollars invested, it is the last of my father's legacy, and I'm not willing to risk it. I'm determined to keep it as a reserve for my children, if things come to the worst. It seems to me that the wholesale men are the ones to look to. They are the men who during all these years have gained by us. If they will give longer time, you might pull through yet. If they won't, then let them wind up the business." There was a tear glistening in Mrs. Thornton's eye, but she spoke very emphatically.

"Mother is right," said Robert. "Suppose, father, you and I draw out at once a brief statement of assets and liabilities, and I add to it another of the probable cost and proceeds of the winter's logging; and send them to Hamilton and Montreal, asking for further extension of time. What think you?"

"It will be of little use. Still, we may try it," replied the dejected man.

"Another thing," said Robert, "to guard against any fiendish scheme that Pettigrew may have in view, I'll go myself on horseback to B—— and post it in time for the morning express for Hamilton."

"You may see Pettigrew himself on the way," said Mrs. Thornton.

"That is scarcely likely," was the answer. "Linbrook people usually go by W——. The road to B—— is a little longer, but the town is nearer Hamilton. I won't let him see me if I can help it; but if he does it can't matter much."

They commenced at once, but it took several hours to complete the work. The outlook was pretty gloomy, for when the accounts were investigated they proved to be in a worse condition than Mr. Thornton anticipated. Still the prospect was brightened somewhat by the favourable saw-log report which Robert was able to add.

It was this document, carried on the gallop by Robert over the hard packed road, even while Pettigrew was still asleep, that had the effect of modifying the views of Grantham and Scott. Robert reached the station before daylight. He had only half an hour to rest and feed his horse, for—without any sleep during the whole of the night—he must needs be back at the rollway, to tally the first logs that would be hauled in the early morning.

On the third day Pettigrew was back at the store again. His smile, if anything, was more noticeable than ever; for his uncle, to the surprise of the doctors, had taken a decided change for the better, and was actually out of danger! No wonder that Pettigrew rejoiced over the result; for was not this the uncle who had started him in life, and launched him successfully as an educated clerk in the mercantile world?

A couple of days later, two letters arrived by post from Messrs. Grantham and Scott—the one to Mr. Thornton granting him an extension of time until the spring should open, thus allowing him an opportunity to raft his saw-logs to the lake and realise upon them—the other to Mr. Pettigrew, advising him to retain his situation, and while avoiding suspicion in any form, to keep a look-out and await results.

On the whole the prospective condition was satisfactory to both men, although each was unaware of the exact part that had been played by the other. Mr. Thornton was glad to obtain the extended grace. Who could possibly tell what the next four months would realise? Fortunately the future is, and ever will be, a mystery. And Pettigrew, although delayed in his little scheme of personal aggrandisement, was willing to wait and watch with lynx-eyed eagerness for any chance which the game of fortune might throw in his way.