The humble boarding house where he had made his home so many years, had been destroyed by fire, and the people had gone none knew whither.

This was indeed a trying blow to Lester, for the fire had completely wiped out all of his savings which he had kept in the little haircloth trunk in his room.

But, without a murmur, he took up the burden of life over again and went back to his work at his desk.
In going over his accounts he suddenly came across the name of Faynie Fairfax.
The pen fell from his fingers and he brushed his hand over his brow.
"What a strangely familiar ring that name has to me!" he muttered, "but I cannot imagine who it can be.

Her checks seem to be paid in here.

I must remember to notice who she is when next she comes to this window." Life had dropped into the same old groove again for Lester Armstrong, the only difference in the routine of his daily life being that he was not obliged to take his daily trips to Beechwood any more, for the reason that his employer, Mr.Marsh, had taken up his residence in the city again.
But in less than a fortnight another event happened.
Mr.Marsh died suddenly, and to the great surprise of every one, Lester Armstrong was named as his sole heir.