CHAPTER XVII.
EVERY MAN TO HIS TRADE.
After the bogus Lester Armstrong had dispatched his letter of acceptance to Mrs.Fairfax he braced himself for what would happen next by taking a deep draught from the silver brandy flask which he kept in his breast pocket, though he realized that he had need of all his senses for any emergency.
During the next hour a score or more bookkeepers came to him with bills, letters and papers of all descriptions.

To one and all he said, with a yawn, and very impatiently: "Leave what you have brought on my desk; I'll look over it this afternoon." Then it occurred to him that such a great concern must have a general manager, and of course he would know something about the different papers these people had brought for his inspection and for him to pass upon, which were like so much Greek to him.
In answer to his summons, a tall, dignified, keen-eyed elderly man responded--a man who struck considerable awe to Kendale's guilty heart.
He said to himself that he wished to the Lord he knew this man's name to be able to call him by it--but of course it couldn't be helped.
"I have concluded to permit you to attend to these matters for me--get through them the best you can in your own way without bothering me with them; do just as you would if I were away on a vacation, we will say, and left everything in your charge--all matters for you to settle as you deemed best." The gentleman looked surprised and bowed gravely.

"I can attend to most of the documents connected with the firm, but there are a few matters I see there that the parties interested might object to if they saw the name of Manager Wright attached instead of the name of the proprietor." "In that case, show me where you want me to sign, and I'll put down my name here and now, to end the matter." "Without first examining the documents carefully ?" asked the manager, in amazement, thinking how slipshod in his business methods the new proprietor of the great establishment was becoming since he suddenly found himself raised from a poor cashier to a multi-millionaire, and thinking that good old Mr.Marsh would turn over in his grave if he had heard that.
"Thank Heaven all that is off my mind," muttered Kendale, breathing freer as the manager left the office with the papers, adding, thoughtfully: "I hope I won't have to come in contact with that man very often.

I felt so uncomfortable that it was by the greatest effort I could control myself--keep from springing from my chair, seizing my hat and fairly flying out of this place.
"His keen gray eyes seemed to pierce through and through me.

I expected every moment to hear him shout out: 'Come hither, everybody--quickly; this man is not Lester Armstrong, striking though the resemblance is.
Send for the police, that this mystery may be solved at once!'" He was not far wrong in his suspicions.
Manager Wright had quitted the private office with a deeply knitted brow and a troubled expression on his face.
"The change in Lester Armstrong since yesterday is amazing," he mused.
"Long years of dissipation could not have told more on him than the change these few hours have worked.