out on the steps.

"Wish I was going along," he called.

"So do I," replied Tom. "How's everything? Is the bank all
right since the run?" for he had not had time to pay much
attention to the institution since his memorable race against
time, to get the money.

"Stronger and better than ever," was Ned's answer, as he came
to the curb, where Tom slowed up. "I hear," he added in a
whisper, "that the other fellows are going out of business--Foger
and his crowd you know. They loaned money on unsecured notes to
make a good showing, and now they can't get it back But we're all
right. Hope you win the race."

"So do I."

"What will a certain person do while you're away?" went on Ned,
with a wink.

"I don't know what you mean," replied Tom, trying not to blush.
"Do you mean my dad or Mrs. Baggert?"

"Neither, you old hypocrite you! I meant Miss Mary Nestor."

"Oh, hadn't you heard?" inquired Tom innocently. "She is going
to Long Island to visit some friends, and she'll be at the race."

"You lucky dog," murmured Ned with a laugh, as he went into the