CHAPTER XXVI.
At ten o'clock that same night Jack went to the station to meet Garry.
He and Ruth had talked over the strange scene--unaccountable to both of them--and had determined that Jack should see Garry at once.
"I must help him, Ruth, no matter at what cost.

Garry has been my friend for years; he has been taken up with his work, and so have I, and we have drifted apart a little, but I shall never forget him for his kindness to me when I first came to New York.

I would never have known Uncle Peter but for Garry, or Aunt Felicia, or--you, my darling." Jack waited under the shelter of the overhanging roof until the young architect stepped from the car and crossed the track.

Garry walked with the sluggish movement of a tired man--hardly able to drag his feet after him.
"I thought I'd come down to meet you, Garry," Jack cried in his old buoyant tone.

"It's pretty rough on you, old fellow, working so hard." Garry raised his head and peered into the speaker's face.
"Why, Jack!" he exclaimed in a surprised tone; the voice did not sound like Garry's.