The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Young Salesman, by Horatio Alger, Jr.

Author of "The Errand Boy," "Mark Mason's Victory,"
"Tom Temple's Career," "Tony, the Hero," "The
Train Boy," etc., etc.

CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE "ARCTURUS."

Halfway across the Atlantic the good ship Arcturus was making her way from Liverpool to New York. She was a sailing vessel, and her speed by no means equaled that of the mighty steamships, more than one of which passed her, leaving her far behind.

While she was used chiefly for freight, she carried a few passengers, less than twenty in all.

I wish to call the reader's attention to the occupants of one of the small staterooms, a man and a boy. There was a great contrast between them. The man was thin and hollow-cheeked, and as he lay in his berth he looked to be, as he was, in the last stages of consumption.

The boy, who must have been nearly sixteen, was the picture of health. He was inclined to be[Pg 2] dark, with black hair, bright eyes, and with considerable color in his cheeks.

He bent over the reclining figure, and asked, with anxious solicitude: "How do you feel, father?"

"Yes, I do, Scott, and you may as well know it. I doubt whether I shall live to see New York."

Scott Walton looked dismayed, for till now he had not suspected that his father's life was in danger. Yet, as he gazed at the fragile form, he was forced to believe that his father spoke truly.

"I must, my son. Perhaps I may have no other chance. I am sorry that I must leave you almost penniless."

"Don't interrupt me, for there are some things I must tell you. You will find in my wallet twenty pounds in English bank notes, worth in America about one hundred dollars. This sum will support you while you are looking for a situation, for you will need to find work."

"There is a cousin of your mother's in New York, Ezra Little. I believe he is well-to-do. I can't tell you what he is doing or where he lives, but you can look up his name in the New York directory."

"No, there is a cousin of my own, Philo Walton, who went out to one of the Western States. He was a good-hearted fellow, and likely to make his way, but I have heard nothing of him, and I don't know whether he is still living or not.

"There seems a very small chance of your finding him, in so large a country, but you can probably find Ezra Little. Take down these names, Scott. They may be of importance to you."

"I would not have started from England, had I supposed I should have become worse so rapidly," continued Mr. Walton. "I think the sea air has aggravated my disease. There seemed nothing for us at home though, and no friends on whom we could call. I built my hopes on Ezra Little. I thought for your mother's sake he would help her boy. If I could live to see him, and commend him to you in person, I could die in peace."

He had hardly completed these words when he had a terrible fit of coughing, which seemed to rack his feeble frame.

"Don't talk any more, father!" said Scott, in alarm. "Can't I get you something to relieve you? I will go to the steward and ask for a cup of hot tea."

He was gone but ten minutes, but when he returned the bedclothes were stained with blood.

His father had had a hemorrhage, and was lying with closed eyes, breathing faintly.

The ship doctor was summoned, and applied restoratives, but without effect. Before the morning dawned, Scott was fatherless.

It was a great trial to the lonely boy to see his father's body consigned to the deep. He wished he might carry it to the land which was to be his future home, and have it buried in some quiet cemetery; but it would be a week at least before the slow-going ship would reach New York, and the sailors would have rebelled at having a corpse on board for that length of time.

Scott secured the money of which his father had spoken, and a sealed packet inscribed:

The boy's grief was so sincere that his curiosity was not aroused by this inscription. He put the packet in his traveling bag, and tried to prepare himself for the solitary life he must now lead.

There was a good deal of sympathy felt for the lonely boy on the ship, and more than one of the[Pg 6] passengers proffered sympathy and companionship.

Scott received their advances politely, but showed by his manner that he preferred to be alone.

A week later, however, when the vessel was within a few hours of reaching her destination, he felt that it would be well to obtain some information about the new country that awaited him.

Among the passengers was a young man who looked to be about twenty-five. His name was Crawford Lane. He wore a light overcoat, a showy necktie, a low-cut vest, and was in appearance a very good specimen of the Bowery swell.

He joined Scott as he was standing on deck, trying to catch the first glimpse of land.

"Well, my young friend," he said, affably, "I suppose that you, like the rest of us, are glad to be near port."

"Oh, so much!" said the boy, the tears coming into his eyes. "For years we have lived together and been constant companions."

"But you doubtless have other relatives, while he was all I had," explained Scott.

"Yes, I have other relatives. An uncle of mine is the present mayor of Chicago. Of course, you have heard of Chicago."

"Not at present. I have relations in New York also. They are rich; live on Fifth Avenue, or near by."

"You are fortunate in having so many relations," said Scott, with a touch of envy.

"I don't know. One of my uncles tried to cheat me out of part of my inheritance. Relations are not always the best friends."

"I hope he did not succeed," said Scott, politely, though he felt very little interest in the fortunes of his fellow voyager.

"No. That is, he defrauded me of ten thousand dollars, but there was a good deal more, so that I was not inconvenienced."

"No," answered Lane. "You see my father and mother are dead, and I live at the hotels or in apartments of my own. I don't care to live with relations. Have you any relations in New York?"

"None that I have seen. There is a cousin of my mother, Ezra Little, who I am told is well-to-do. But I never saw him, and I don't know how he will receive me."

"I hope," said Lane, in an insinuating tone, "that your father left you in easy circumstances?"

"Yes, I have twenty pounds. I am told that amounts to a hundred dollars in American currency."

"Yes," answered Lane, brightening up. "Well, that will tide you over till you get something to do. But probably your relative will provide for you."

"No," said Scott; "I shall not ask him to do so. I prefer to earn my own living."

"Just so. Well, I can be of some service to[Pg 9] you. I will find you a reasonable place to stop, and when you get ready you can call on this Mr. Little."

Scott was disposed to accept the offer of his new acquaintance, as, of course, he himself knew absolutely nothing about New York.

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.

When the Arcturus arrived in port, Scott placed himself in charge of Mr. Lane, and accompanied that gentleman on shore. He congratulated himself on having a competent guide.

He was struck by the bright and bustling appearance of the great American metropolis, and, English though he was, he was fain to admit that it was more attractive than London.

Scott had but one gripsack, but in this respect Crawford Lane was no better off.

"I just took a brief trip across the water," he explained, "and I don't believe in being hampered with baggage."

"No; I just ran across in company with an old college friend. He will be absent several months, but I could not spare the time from my business."

"Have you anything which a boy of my age[Pg 11] could do in your office?" asked Scott, who felt that he must now be on the search for a place.

"Not at present. My business is of a peculiar nature. I travel for a large house. But I will keep my eyes open, and if I should hear of anything I will most certainly let you know."

"No, I never say much about my movements. My friends can wait till I get fairly established in a hotel."

Scott was somewhat amazed when his new acquaintance conducted him to a very plain house on the Bowery.

"I don't care for style," remarked Lane, observing Scott's surprise, "and though I could afford to go to the most expensive hotel in the city, I know that your means are limited, and I wish to select one in which you can afford to remain with me."

"Thank you, Mr. Lane; you are very considerate. I haven't much money, and I must be economical."

Crawford Lane left Scott sitting in the reading room, but he returned in five minutes.

"I find," he said, "that the hotel is crowded. I have engaged a single room with two beds. Will that be agreeable?"

Scott felt that he would have preferred to room alone, but he did not know how to make objection, and acquiesced in the arrangement.

"I would like to go upstairs at once," he said, "so that I may wash and change my underclothing."

They were shown up by a bell boy. The room on the third floor was rather small, but contained two single beds.

The place and its furnishings looked dingy, and even dirty, but Scott was not disposed to make any unnecessary complaint.

"Very well. By the way, didn't you say you had some Bank of England notes to exchange for American money?"

"While you are making your toilet, I might slip down to a broker's in Wall Street, and make the exchange. What do you say?"

Scott had his share of caution, and he remembered that his knowledge of Mr. Lane was very limited. Indeed, on reflection, it occurred to him that his sole knowledge of his acquaintance was derived from that gentleman himself.

"I think," he said, "that I will wait till to-morrow. I have a little silver with me that will do me till then."

"Oh, very well!" said Lane, in an indifferent tone, though his face expressed some disappointment. "I only thought that I might save you some trouble."

"Thank you, but I don't mind the trouble. I shall be interested to see Wall Street myself."

"I should not like to take up your time. Probably you have business of your own to occupy you."

"Oh, I can get through a good deal of business in a short time. When you are ready, come downstairs. You will find me in the office."

Left to himself, Scott took a good wash and put on some clean linen, which he found refreshing. He divided his bank notes into two parcels, one of which he put in his inside coat pocket, the other in an inside pocket in his vest.

In twenty minutes he was ready to go downstairs. He found Crawford Lane awaiting him in the office.

"Yes," answered Scott, for, grieving though he did over his father's loss, he had the appetite of a healthy boy.

The dinner was plain, and the table neither neat nor attractive, but Scott felt that he had no right to be fastidious, and upon the whole ate heartily.

Lane led the way to Broadway, pointing out various buildings and objects of interest.

"Don't borrow any trouble about that. I have influence, and will see that you find employment," said Lane, patronizingly.

These words were kind, but Scott hesitated to respond. He had seen no occasion to distrust his companion, but for some reason, unaccountable to himself, he could not give him his confidence.

They sauntered up Broadway till they reached Waverly Place. Just at the corner they attracted the attention of a boy of perhaps fifteen, who seemed to recognize Scott's companion.

He was a dark-haired, pleasant-looking boy, whose face seemed to indicate German descent.

"I haven't the honor of knowing you, Mr. John Schickling," said Lane, in a tone of sarcasm.

"Just as you like, but I have no time to spend[Pg 16] with you to-day. Pass on and let me alone," said Lane, impatiently.

"You hired a room from my mother at three dollars a week, and you went off owing three weeks' lodging, if you will give me nine dollars I will give you a receipt."

"All the same you had a room at our house for several weeks at the price. I have been looking for you every day since you left us."

"Boy," said Crawford Lane, "I have just returned from Europe, and therefore cannot have roomed in your house. If you have any doubt on the subject, my young friend here will tell you that we arrived in New York this morning on the ship Arcturus."

"That may be," rejoined John; "but it is two months since you left our house. You have had time to go to Europe and back."

Crawford Lane drew a card from his pocket, and scribbling an address on it, passed it to the boy. While John Schickling was trying to make it out, Lane hurried on with Scott.

"Fifth Avenue Hotel!" repeated Johnny. "Why, that's a very dear place. If Mr. Lane can afford to stay there, he can afford to pay mother's bill."

"Sold again!" said Johnny. "If I ever meet Mr. Lane now, he won't get off so easily."

"I can't undertake to explain it," said Lane, shrugging his shoulders. "The boy is evidently very artful. It is a put-up job."

Scott made no comment, but he had been favorably impressed by John Schickling's open, frank face, and he felt some doubts about relying on Lane's explanation.

CHAPTER III. SCOTT LEARNS A LESSON.

Soon after supper Crawford Lane said: "Suppose we go to some theater this evening. It will pass away the time pleasantly."

"Mr. Lane," he said, "you seem to forget that it is scarcely more than a week since my poor father died."

"Excuse me, Scott. I ought to have remembered it. Shall you miss me if I leave you to spend the evening alone?"

"Very well. You need not sit up for me, as I shall return late. Go to bed when you feel inclined, and we shall meet in the morning. So long!"

Scott remained in the office of the hotel. He did not object to being left alone, for he was forced[Pg 20] to acknowledge that he did not care much for the company of Crawford Lane.

Circumstances had thrown them together, and Lane had been of some service to him in his absolute ignorance of the city, but Scott resolved to break away from him as soon as possible.

That gave him an idea. He would look up the name of Ezra Little, and find out where he lived and what his business was.

Turning over the pages of the bulky volume, he came to the letter L. There was a long list of Littles. Finally, he found Ezra Little, dry goods, No. 849 Eighth Avenue; house, 392 West Forty-seventh Street.

"I will go to see him to-morrow," thought Scott, hopefully. "Since he has a store, he may find a place for me."

Just off the ship, he found that walking about the streets had fatigued him, and he went to bed about nine o'clock.

Lane had requested him to leave the door unlocked, so that he might get in without difficulty on his return from the theater. Indeed, Scott was[Pg 21] obliged to do this, as Lane had carried off the key, intentionally or otherwise.

It has already been mentioned that Scott had divided his small capital into two equal parts, one of which he placed in the original envelope in his coat pocket, the other in an inside pocket in his vest.

The coat he hung over a chair, but the vest he thought it prudent to place under his pillow.

It was not long before Scott was sound asleep. He found himself more fatigued than he had supposed.

Crawford Lane had gone to Niblo's Theater, where there was a showy spectacular play which suited his fancy. On his way home, he stepped into a hotel, where he picked up a copy of the New York Herald.

He looked it over listlessly, but all at once he started in surprise, not unmixed with dismay. In the list of passengers on the Etruria, which had arrived very early the previous evening, he saw the name of Justin Wood.

There was nothing remarkable about the name, but it so happened that it had peculiar associations for Crawford Lane.

Seven weeks before, he had gone abroad with[Pg 22] Justin Wood, a wealthy young man, as his companion. Wood was liberal, and he had taken a fancy to Lane to such an extent that he offered to defray his expenses on a short European trip.

In London, Crawford Lane managed to rob his companion of a considerable sum of money, and, of course, disappeared directly afterward.

For three weeks he spent money profusely. At the end of that time, he had barely enough left to buy a ticket for New York by the ship Arcturus.

When he landed, his funds had dwindled to three dollars, but he expected to increase them by appropriating the Bank of England notes which he learned were in the possession of Scott Walton.

But the arrival of Justin Wood complicated matters. He must keep out of the way of the man he had robbed, and this would not be easy while both were in the same city.

"Suppose he had been at the theater this evening!" he said to himself, nervously.

As Justin Wood was an athlete, an encounter would probably have been far from pleasant for his faithless friend.

"It is lucky," he thought, "that fate has thrown[Pg 23] in my way this green boy. With his hundred dollars I will start to-morrow for Chicago, and stay there for the present. That will keep me out of the way of Justin Wood."

It was about midnight when Lane reached the hotel on the Bowery. He went upstairs at once.

As he lit the gas he turned his gaze on the bed near the window. Scott was fast asleep, with one arm thrown carelessly over the quilt.

"Sleeping like a top!" murmured Lane. "These young boys always sleep sound. I used to when I was a boy. I had an easy conscience then," he continued, with a half laugh. "I'm not quite so innocent as I was, but I know a lot more. Well, I must get to bed, for I must be up bright and early to-morrow morning."

He carefully locked the door, for he did not want anyone else to anticipate him in his dishonest plans.

Crawford Lane slept rather later than he intended. When, upon opening his eyes, he consulted his watch he found that it was half-past seven o'clock.

"I ought to have been up an hour ago," he said to himself. "Suppose the boy is awake, all my plans would be upset."

He dressed in great haste, and then, with one eye upon the sleeping boy, tiptoed to the chair over which Scott's coat was hanging, and drew out the envelope from the inside pocket.

He would have examined the contents, but Scott stirred slightly, and Lane felt that it would be the part of prudence to leave the room at once.

"I am obliged to take an early train for the West," he said, "and will settle my part of the bill."

"I shall not be able to stop, as I am already late. I left the boy asleep. If he inquires for me you may tell him I will write him from—Buffalo."

There was one awkward thing in his way. He would have preferred to leave the city at once, but[Pg 25] outside of the English notes, he had scarcely any money, and it would be necessary to wait till ten o'clock, when he could call at some broker's and exchange them for American bills.

Lane went into the Astor House and entered one of the small reading rooms on the second floor.

To his great disappointment, he found but half the sum he expected to find—but ten pounds in place of twenty.

"Confusion!" he muttered. "Was the boy deceiving me? He certainly said that he had twenty pounds."

The explanation of the discrepancy readily suggested itself. The boy had placed the balance of the notes somewhere else.

But the boy might have waked up, and though he regretted not having taken all his money, Lane felt that he must make the ten pounds do.

When he opened his eyes he looked over to the other bed. Evidently it had been slept in, but it seemed now to be unoccupied.

It occurred to Scott as singular that his companion, who must have got to bed late, should have risen so early, but no suspicion of wrong-doing entered his mind till he put on his coat. Then he discovered at once the disappearance of the envelope.

He felt in the pocket of his vest. The other ten notes were there, fortunately, but Scott was by no means satisfied to give up the ten he had lost. He hurried down the stairs, and in some excitement went up to the hotel clerk.

CHAPTER IV. TRACKING THE THIEF.

With some agitation Scott addressed the clerk. "Has the gentleman who came with me left the hotel?" he asked.

"No. He told me to tell you that he was called suddenly to the West. He will write to you from Buffalo."

Scott felt limp and helpless. He turned pale and clung to the counter for support.

He was only a boy, and he realized that with his companion went half his scanty means.

"No; he said he could not wait. He wanted to catch the early train. It is strange he didn't tell you he was going. You are young to be left alone."

"No; he was only a fellow passenger on the ship Arcturus, which arrived in this port yesterday morning."

"What shall I do?" asked Scott, feeling that he needed advice from some one who knew the world better than he did.

"Did he take all you had?" inquired the clerk, with the sudden thought that in that case Scott would be unable to pay his hotel bill.

"That was lucky," said the clerk, relieved. "Perhaps he hasn't left the city yet," he added, after a pause.

"That is what he said. He might wait till after ten o'clock to change the notes. Have you the number of them?"

"No, or—yes, I can tell what they would be from those I have left. Probably they would come directly before or directly after those."

"Then you stand a chance to recover them, or at any rate to have him arrested. It is too early to do anything yet. You had better eat breakfast, and then go down to Wall Street. That is where the brokers have their offices, and you may meet him there."

Scott went in to breakfast, and notwithstanding his loss he ate heartily. He was of a sanguine temperament and disposed to make the best of circumstances. So he congratulated himself on having retained a part of his money.

Scott walked down to the City Hall Park, and then proceeded down Broadway in the direction of Trinity Church, which, he was told, faced the head of Wall Street.

As he was passing the Astor House, he espied a familiar face and figure. It was the boy who had spoken to Crawford Lane the day before—John Schickling.

John Schickling looked round with a puzzled expression, for he did not recognize Scott. The day previous he had only taken notice of Crawford Lane, and not of his companion.

"That's what I want to find out. He and I[Pg 31] stopped at a hotel on the Bowery last night. When I woke up this morning I found that he had stolen some of my money and disappeared."

"He's a rascal!" said John, warmly. "It is just like him. Had you known him long?"

"No; we met on board the ship that brought us over from Liverpool. I am a stranger in the city, and he agreed to act as my guide."

"The money he took was in English bank notes, and the hotel clerk thought he might go down to Wall Street to exchange them there at some broker's."

"I will be glad of your company. I feel strange in America. I am an English boy."

"I'll help you all I can. I am on an errand for my brother. He is a young man, and I work for him, but I know he won't mind my following up[Pg 32] this fellow and trying to make him pay me. Say, how old are you?"

"I hope you will like me better than Mr. Lane. He is an American, but isn't much credit to the country."

The two boys reached Wall Street about ten minutes past ten. They turned the corner and entered the great financial artery of New York.

"I have some English notes which I would like to exchange for American money," he said.

"I have just bought some," he said, "the numbers of which correspond very nearly with these."

"They were my notes," said Scott. "The man stole them from me. Where did he go?"

The messenger—William Doon, a boy of eighteen—remembered that Lane had gone as far as Broadway, and turned to go uptown.

Scott gave himself up to the guidance of his boy friend, and hurried up Broadway, but without much hope of finding Lane. He had not yet sold his notes, feeling that he must if possible catch the thief who had plundered him.

Just above Chambers Street, on the west side of the street, was a cut-rate railroad ticket office.

"Suppose we go in there," suggested John. "He may buy a ticket for some place out West. He wouldn't dare to stay in New York."

It was a lucky thought. No sooner had they entered than Scott recognized his faithless acquaintance at the counter inquiring the price of a ticket to Chicago.

"I can give you a ticket this morning for fourteen dollars," said the agent. "It is a rare chance, but it will have to be used within three days."

Scott was exasperated at the man's coolness. He was no milk-and-water boy, but a lad of spirit.

"Mr. Lane," he said, grasping the other's arm, "give me back that money you stole from me."

Crawford Lane turned and gazed at Scott in dismay. He had never expected to see him again, and could not understand how he had got upon his track. But he decided to brazen it out.

"I mean this, that you stole some English bank notes from me at the hotel where we slept, and——"

"If you don't leave this office and stop annoying me I will have you arrested," blustered Lane.

"No, you don't," interposed John Schickling, whom until now Lane had not noticed. "We're on to your little game. We've just come from the broker's office where you exchanged the money."

CHAPTER V. AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.

"I will call later and buy the ticket," he said to the broker. "At present I have some business with this young rascal, who robbed me this morning of a considerable sum of money. Now he has the assurance to make a charge against me."

The broker looked from one to the other. He was bewildered, and could not decide which to believe.

"So you are acting the part of a highway robber, are you? If you know what is best for yourself you will get away from here as soon as possible."

"Robbery. I took pity on him, and though I knew scarcely anything of him, I let him occupy the same room with myself at a hotel on the Bowery last night. He stole some Bank of England notes from my pocket while I was sleeping, and I want him arrested."

Scott's breath was quite taken away by the audacious misrepresentation of his treacherous acquaintance.

"You young rascal!" exclaimed Lane, in assumed indignation. "That is a likely story. I leave it to the officer which was more likely to[Pg 38] have money to be taken—a gentleman like myself, or a boy like you."

"But," put in John Schickling, "that man has told you a lie. He owes my mother nine dollars for room rent."

"I never saw the boy before in the whole course of my life," said Lane, boldly. "He seems to be a confederate of the boy who robbed me."

"You can tell your story at the police station," said the policeman to Scott. "You, sir, can go with me and prefer a charge."

"I am in a great hurry," replied Lane, taking out his watch. "I will call at the police station in an hour. Now I have an important engagement."

Scott was considerably taken aback at the unexpected turn which matters had taken, and felt some anxiety.

"You bet I will," responded John, briskly. "I[Pg 39] ain't goin' back on a friend. I'll tell you what I know about this man."

"You'd better clear out," said Lane, "if you know what is best for you, or you'll find yourself in hot water, too."

So they started for the station house in the City Hall, when something unexpected happened.

A young man, handsomely dressed, met the procession, as he was himself walking up Broadway. His eyes lighted up when they rested on Crawford Lane.

"At last I have found you!" he exclaimed. "Officer, I call upon you to arrest this man."

Crawford Lane tried to release himself from the grasp of the speaker, and had he succeeded would have fled unceremoniously.

"What does this mean?" asked the policeman. "He is going with me to the station house to prefer a charge against this boy."

"Then you may conclude that he has robbed the boy. He robbed me in London some weeks since, and I have just caught him."

"This is all a mistake," said Lane, hurriedly. "Officer, you may let the boy go."

"I prefer to go to the station house," said Scott, quietly. "I wish to tell my story there. This man stole ten pounds from me in English money."

At this moment there was a sudden excitement in the street. A man had been knocked over by a passing truck, and all eyes were turned toward the scene of the accident.

Justin Wood removed his hand from the arm of Crawford Lane, and the latter lost no time in taking advantage of his freedom. He darted down a side street, and when his companions turned to look for him he had disappeared.

"How did this man get a chance to rob you?" asked Justin Wood, turning to Scott.

"I am staying at the Gilsey House," he said. "If you need help or advice, call there and send up your name. By the way, what is your name, my boy?"

"I shall remember it. Now I must leave you as, like your late friend, I have an important engagement."

"I suppose I must be getting back," said John, "as my brother will need me. I am sorry I didn't collect the nine dollars from that jay."

"He has got the best of all of us," returned[Pg 42] Scott. "Where do you live? I may want to look you up some day."

"In West Thirty-sixth Street," said John. "I haven't got any card with me, but I can give you the number."

"I won't forget it. You have been my first friend in New York, and I don't want to lose you."

"I never thought I would like an English boy before," said John, "but I like you."

When Scott was left alone it occurred to him that he had not yet exchanged his English money, and he returned to the broker's office, where he made the exchange, receiving about fifty dollars in greenbacks.

"This is all I have to depend upon," reflected Scott. "It won't do for me to remain at the hotel much longer. My money would soon be gone."

He had ascertained that the rates at the hotel were two dollars a day, including board.

This was not a large price, but Scott felt that it was more than he could afford to pay. It was absolutely necessary that he should begin to earn something as soon as possible.

He could decide upon nothing till he had seen[Pg 43] his mother's cousin, Ezra Little. If that gentleman should agree to take him into his store in any capacity, he felt that his anxieties would be at an end. Hence, it was desirable that he should see Mr. Little as soon as possible. He had already ascertained that his relative was in the dry-goods business on Eighth Avenue, but he felt that it would be better to call upon him at his residence on West Forty-seventh Street. Probably Mr. Little would have more leisure to talk with him there.

It was with a fast-beating heart that Scott, standing on the steps of a three-story brick house on West Forty-seventh Street, rang the bell.

Just behind her was a boy who looked to be about Scott's age, and who listened inquisitively to what Scott had to say.

The servant opened the door leading into a small reception room to the left of the front hall, and Scott, entering, seated himself.

The boy already referred to entered also. He[Pg 44] was a very plain-looking youth with light red hair.

"I should be glad if your father would give me a place. I have just come from England. My mother was a cousin of Mr. Little."

CHAPTER VI. SCOTT FINDS A RELATIVE AND A PLACE.

Loammi Little, for this was the name of the red-haired boy, regarded Scott with curiosity mingled with surprise.

"I never heard of you, though I have heard pa say that a cousin of his married a man named Walton. Where is your father?"

He began to resent the unfeeling questions with which his cousin was plying him.

"I don't want to live on anyone," said Scott, his[Pg 46] cheek flushing with anger. "I am ready to earn my own living."

"That's the way pa did. He came over here a poor boy, or rather a poor young man."

"My father bought me this suit in London before we started for America. Are you working in your father's store?"

"No, I am attending school. I am not a poor boy, and don't have to work. Did you work any before you left the old country?"

As this was considerably beyond the point to which Loammi had attained, he made no comment. He was considering what question to ask next, when his father entered the room.

There was a strong resemblance between father[Pg 48] and son. Ezra Little was a slender man, about five feet ten inches in height, with hair of a yellowish-red, inclined to be thin toward the top of the head.

There was a feeble growth of side whiskers extending halfway down each cheek. His eyes were of a pale blue, and his look was shrewd and cold.

"My father died so lately that I haven't had time to form any plans. I thought I would like to consult you about them."

"That won't keep you long," said Loammi, disdainfully. "I s'pose you'll expect pa to take care of you."

"Have I hinted anything of the kind?" demanded Scott, indignantly. "I am young and strong, and I am quite ready to earn my own living. I don't want anybody to support me."

"Well spoken, lad!" said Ezra, in a tone of approval. "I'll think over your case. Loammi, tell your mother that Scott will stay to supper."

Mrs. Little was as plain in appearance as her husband and son, but Scott liked her better. She appeared to have a kindly disposition, and expressed sympathy for him when she heard of his father's death.

This was in contrast to Mr. Little and Loammi, upon whom it seemed to make no impression.

"It is very extravagant for a boy with your small stock of money to pay such a price."

"I know it, sir, but I only went there yesterday, I shall not think of staying."

Scott had decided not to mention his loss to Mr. Little, as he felt sure that it would bring upon him a reproof for his credulity in trusting a man of whom he knew so little as Crawford Lane.

"Why couldn't he come here, Ezra?" suggested Mrs. Little, turning to her husband.

"After supper I shall speak to Scott about business," he said, "and that point will be discussed."

Scott looked forward to the interview with interest and anxiety. For him a great deal depended on it.

He hoped that Mr. Little would give him a place in the store where he would be in the line of promotion, and be able to earn his living.

He followed Mr. Little from the dining room into what might be called a library, though there[Pg 51] were only about fifty books in a small bookcase. There was a desk, however, used by Mr. Little for letter writing, and for the keeping of his accounts. Here, too, he received business visitors.

"Well," he said, pointing Scott to a chair, "now we will discuss your plans. You want a chance to work?"

"I may find a place for you in my store, but I warn you that you can't expect much pay to begin with."

"I don't expect much pay, sir. If I can earn enough to support myself it will satisfy me."

"Eh, but that would require high pay. It costs a good deal to support a boy in New York."

This rather alarmed Scott, for he felt that he must manage somehow to support himself on what he earned.

"I think Mrs. Little can find a small room for you upstairs, and you can live here."

"Of course what you earn in the store won't pay for your keep, so I suggest that you hand me the fifty dollars to make up."

Scott did not like that suggestion. He did not feel like giving up the money bequeathed him by his father. It would make him feel helpless and dependent.

Besides, when he wanted clothing, where should he find money to pay for it? Yet, if he declined Mr. Little's offer, he knew that the fifty dollars[Pg 53] would soon be exhausted, and he might have no other place offered him.

So Scott handed over forty-five dollars to Mr. Little, who counted it over with evident satisfaction. Then the English boy started for the hotel.

He had secured a place, but somehow he felt depressed. His prospects did not seem very bright, after all.

CHAPTER VII. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

After Scott paid his hotel bill and reached his new home, he found that he had just sixty cents left in his purse. To be sure, he would be at no more expense for meals, but it made him feel poor.

When he left the ship he had one hundred dollars. There certainly had been a great shrinkage in his resources.

He was taken by the servant to an inside room on the upper floor. Of course there was no window, and the only light that entered the room was from the transom.

It seemed gloomy, and bade fair to be very close. If it had only been an outside room with a small window, Scott would have been more content. As it was, he found that the two servants were much better provided for than he.

The bed, however, was comfortable, and this[Pg 55] was a partial compensation. But he reflected with disappointment that the room would be available only at night. He could not very well sit in it by day, as it was too dark for him to read.

Meanwhile, as it was but ten o'clock, it occurred to him that he would call upon Justin Wood at the Gilsey House. He easily found the hotel, which is on the corner of Twenty-ninth Street and Broadway.

He did not have to inquire for Mr. Wood, as he saw that gentleman through the window, sitting in the reading room.

Justin Wood looked up from the paper he was reading and recognized Scott at once.

"I am glad to see you, my young friend," he said, with a pleasant smile. "What luck have you had?"

"Through the relation I was telling you about. He keeps a dry-goods store on Eighth Avenue, and he will give me a place in his employ."

"I am not so sure," said Scott, slowly. "He took all my money, and I am to board at his house."

Again Scott looked doubtful, and told his new acquaintance of the small, dark room which had been assigned him.

"I shall be very glad to get to work. I don't know what to do with myself now. Besides, it makes me feel helpless to have only sixty cents in my pocket."

"You will have no trouble from the tax collector, that is certain. It is rather a pity you told Mr. Little how much money you had."

"I don't think I would have treated a poor cousin so if he had come across the Atlantic to put himself under my charge."

"What makes you say that? You don't know[Pg 58] much about me," said Justin Wood, with a quiet smile.

"Looks are deceptive," remarked the young man; but he looked pleased with the compliment. "So you don't go to work till Monday?"

"Oh, I shall be repaid. I was wondering what to do with myself. Now the problem is solved. Wait here a minute till I go up to my room, and we will start."

"We think Central Park a very pleasant place," said the young man, "though in some respects it is not equal to the London parks."

When they reached Fifty-ninth Street they entered the park, and walked leisurely to the lake. Scott's eyes brightened, and his step grew more elastic.

"It is about two miles and a half to the extreme northern boundary. We won't try to see the whole. I will only show you the most attractive features. You will be surprised when I tell you that I haven't been in the park for two years."

"Yes, if you have a companion. Most of my friends are men of business, and have no time to spare for park rambles."

"Mr. Wood, I wish you were in business, and I were in your employ," said Scott, impulsively.

"Thank you, Scott. I do think we should get along well. So you think you would like me better than your new-found relatives?"

"Then I will try to foster the illusion," said the[Pg 60] young man, smiling. "Suppose I adopt you as a cousin?"

"Well, you see I have something to do in looking after my property. Besides, I am literary."

"I occasionally write for magazines and reviews. I am a graduate of Columbia College. If I had the spur of necessity, perhaps I might make some mark in literature. As it is, I don't have that motive for working hard. I am rather glad I don't, for I am afraid I shouldn't be able to live at the Gilsey House if I depended upon what I could earn by my pen. Well, have you seen enough of Central Park?"

"Then I will go with you to the other end of the city and beyond. Have you ever heard of Staten Island?"

"It is a few miles to the south of the Battery. I own a small piece of property there—a couple of houses at New Brighton, which are let to tenants. They have sent me word that they need some repairs made, and I may as well go over and see them. I never like to travel alone, and as I have a companion I may as well utilize his company."

Half an hour on the Sixth Avenue Elevated train brought them from Fifty-ninth Street to South Ferry. Close beside it the Staten Island boats started from their pier.

Scott and his companion went on board, and ascended the stairs to the upper cabin. Here they found seats in front, and sat enjoying the fine breeze which is almost always to be found on this trip.

Mr. Wood pointed out Governor's Island, the Statue of Liberty and other notable sights.

Arrived at Staten Island, they took cars to New Brighton. Mr. Wood attended to his business, and then took Scott on an extended ride around[Pg 62] the island. But first he stopped at a hotel and ordered dinner. This they both enjoyed.

When they left the dining room and went out on the piazza they were treated to a surprise. In an armchair, tilted back, with his feet on the balustrade, sat Crawford Lane, evidently enjoying the fine breeze.

CHAPTER VIII. SCOTT RECOVERS PART OF HIS MONEY.

Justin Wood smiled as he saw how unconscious Lane was of his presence. Then he walked forward quietly and laid his hand on Lane's arm.

Lane turned quickly, and looked very much disconcerted when he saw who it was that accosted him.

"Yes; in a fit of absence of mind you relieved him of fifty dollars, or the equivalent in English[Pg 64] bank notes. I don't say anything about the considerably larger sum which you took from me in London, for I can stand the loss, but this boy is poor and wants the money back."

"That was foolish. If you had lost your own money it would have served you right. But you had no business to squander the boy's money in that way. How much money have you got left?"

As Lane still hesitated, Justin Wood added, sternly: "Do as I tell you, or I will arrest you myself and march you to the station house."

The young man looked as if he were quite capable of carrying out his threat, and Lane very reluctantly took out his pocketbook.

"You are smart enough to make a living by fair means. If you keep on as you are doing now, you will obtain your board at the expense of the State."

"We are letting you off very easy," said Justin Wood. "We will give you a chance to reform, but if ever I catch you trying any of your tricks elsewhere, I will reveal what I know of you."

Crawford Lane rose from his chair and with a look of chagrin made haste to leave the hotel. He had already taken dinner there, and intended to remain until the next day, but now he felt unable to do so.

"I am glad to get some of my money back," said Scott, in a tone of satisfaction. "I was reduced to sixty cents. Ten dollars will last me for a good while."

"Take care not to let your worthy relative know you have so much money, or he will want you to give it up to him."

"I am very glad to have been the means of your getting it back. I have a personal grudge against that rascal."

"I can't tell precisely, for I am rather careless about my money, and seldom know just how much I have. To the best of my knowledge he must have taken about three hundred dollars."

"It was much less to me than the sum he took was to you. It did not especially inconvenience me. But it is getting late, and we had better take the next boat back to New York."

This they did. On the same boat, though they were unconscious of it, was Crawford Lane. He saw them, however, and reflected bitterly that the fifty dollars which he had taken from Scott was nearly all gone, though it was only the second day since he got possession of it.

"I think I must be getting back to my new home," said Scott. "Thank you very much for your kindness to me."

"You have given me a pleasant day, Scott," replied the young man, genially. "Call and see me again when you have time."

When Scott reached the house in West Forty-seventh Street, he found Loammi already there. He had returned from school at about half-past two, and wondered what had become of his new-found cousin.

"What could take you to Staten Island? You seem to have plenty of money to go about with."

Scott felt obliged to say this, though he was convinced that Justin Wood would not care to make his cousin's acquaintance.

"I don't think I shall have much chance to be a swell," he said, "after I have begun work in the store."

"No, I guess not. It was a great thing to have pa take you up and give you a home."

"I hope to show my appreciation of it," said Scott; but under the circumstances, his gratitude was not as deep as if he had had a better room, and had not been obliged to give up all his money to his relative.

Scott followed his cousin upstairs. Loammi opened the door and led the way into a large chamber about eighteen feet square, very neatly and comfortably furnished.

There was a bookcase in one corner containing over a hundred volumes. Near it was an upright writing desk. Through a half-open door Scott saw a closet well filled with suits of clothes. Certainly, there was a great contrast between this apartment, with its comforts and ample accommodations, and his own small, stifling room on the floor above. Scott could not quite suppress a feeling of envy.

Alongside of it was another room, not as large, but perhaps two-thirds the size.

It naturally occurred to Scott to wonder why he had not been given one in place of the poor room that had been assigned him.

He found afterward that Mrs. Little had proposed giving him the room next to Loammi, but the latter had objected, saying that it was too good[Pg 70] for a penniless boy. In this he had been backed up by Ezra Little, whose ideas agreed with those of his son.

"You will sit down to meals with us when we are alone," said Ezra Little. "When we have company you can eat in the kitchen."

Scott said nothing, but his face flushed. It was evident that his relatives did not look upon him as a social equal.

Yet Justin Wood, who, as Scott suspected, stood higher socially than the Little family, treated him like a brother. Though in no way related to him, Scott felt a greater regard for him than for any of the family with whom he had found a home.

"To-morrow is Saturday," said Ezra Little, as he rose from the table. "I had not intended to have you enter the store till Monday, but there is a little extra work to be done, and you can come in to-morrow."

"Yes," put in Loammi. "You ought to do all you can to pay pa for his kindness to you."

Scott did not answer, but he thought his young cousin about the most disagreeable boy he had ever met.

CHAPTER IX. BUSINESS EXPERIENCE.

Scott went with his uncle to the store the next morning. It was rather an humble imitator of the larger stores which keep everything for sale.

In any city but New York it would be considered a big store, but it could not, of course, compare with Macy's, Ehrich's, Simpson & Crawford's, and other large bazaars, equally well known. It followed the methods of these stores, however, and generally had some article in which special bargains were offered.

When Mr. Little led the way into the store, where from twenty-five to thirty salesmen were employed, besides cash boys and girls, Scott, who was not used to American shops, thought it a very large one, and his respect for Mr. Little increased, as a merchant on a large scale.

Ezra Little, followed by Scott, walked through the store and paused as he reached a tall man of about forty, with pretentious side whiskers.

"Mr. Allen," he said, "I have brought with me a new clerk. His name is Scott Walton, and he is a distant relative of mine. I suppose he has no experience, and I don't know whether he has any business capacity, but we will try him. Where can you make room for him?"

"In the handkerchief department, I think," replied the superintendent. "We have a drive in there, and there is more doing in that department than usual."

He led the way to the lower end of the store, where there was a large display of handkerchiefs, at prices ranging from five cents up to fifty.

"You can take your place at this counter," said Allen. "All the handkerchiefs are marked, so that you will have no trouble about the price. Take care that the different grades don't get mixed. It would not do, for instance, for a twenty-five cent handkerchief to get among the fifteen centers, or vice versa. Do you understand?"

"I will give you a book, in which you will mark[Pg 74] sales. When you have made one, call a cash boy and send the goods and money by him to the cashier's desk. It is rather lucky that Mr. Little brought you, as we are one clerk short. Mr. Cameron is absent on account of sickness."

Scott listened to these instructions with interest. He had never acted as salesman, but he felt instinctively that he had a taste for the work. He had a little feeling of exhilaration, as he felt he had been raised at once to a position of responsibility.

With mind alert and eyes on the lookout for customers, he began his work. He also watched his fellow clerks to see how they acted, and copied them as far as he was able.

Two things helped him. He had an agreeable, well-modulated voice and a very pleasant face, which seemed to attract customers. He soon found himself full of business, and bustled about like an experienced salesman.

From time to time the superintendent passed Scott's counter and glanced approvingly at the young salesman, who seemed so busy.

Meeting Mr. Little about noon, he said: "That boy is going to make a good salesman."

"Yes; I have watched him carefully, and I can judge. He is a relation of yours, you say, Mr. Little."

"I am glad to hear it," said Ezra Little, indifferently. "He is penniless, and has his own way to make."

"Here is some money," he said. "You can go out and buy some lunch. We can't spare you to go home."

Scott put on his hat and left the store. He looked to see the amount of his lunch money. It[Pg 76] was fifteen cents. This was not liberal, but he felt that he could make it do.

He joined another clerk, who guided him to a small place where, with his money, he was able to buy a cup of coffee, a sandwich and a piece of pie. His companion, who was a man of twenty-five, allowed himself a larger margin.

"I know him very well, for I have been here three years. There are not many who stay here so long—that is, in the store."

"Well, Little has the reputation of paying very mean salaries. He is a very close-fisted man. How much does he pay you?"

"Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. You look pretty well now, but Ezra Little won't clothe you in purple and fine linen."

"How is it you stay so long if the salaries are so poor?" was Scott's natural question.

"Well, I am well known and have a considerable trade of my own. I was once junior partner in a firm on Sixth Avenue, but we failed. By the way, Scott, how do you like your cousin, Loammi?"

"We all dislike him here. He sometimes comes to the store, and puts on the airs of a boss."

At six o'clock the store closed for the day. On Saturday evenings it was kept open later. Scott did not accompany his uncle home, as Mr. Little had a little business that detained him.

It was about a mile to Forty-seventh Street, but Scott did not object to walking. It was pleasant[Pg 78] for him after spending the day indoors to have a walk in the open air.

We will pass over a period of six weeks. Scott was no longer in the handkerchief department. He had been promoted to a more important position.

He still liked the business. The days passed quickly for him when trade was good. It was only when the weather was unpleasant and business dull that he found the time hang heavy on his hands.

He did not see much of Loammi. Though they lived in the same house they were not often together, except at meals.

Usually after supper, Loammi took a walk, but he never invited Scott to go with him. Once when Scott proposed to do so, his cousin declined the companionship curtly.

After that Scott, who had his share of pride, kept to himself. He saw that Loammi looked upon him as a poor relation.

One evening when he returned from the store, he was surprised to have Loammi meet him just outside the door.

"I am glad you have come," he said. "There's an old frump inside who says he is a cousin of pa's. He is old and shabby, and I expect he wants to live on pa. It looks as if he would be overwhelmed with poor relations."

"You can have him all to yourself. Goodness knows I never want to see him again."

There on a sofa sat a small old man, whose clothing, though scrupulously clean, was worn and shabby. His face was wrinkled, but the expression was pleasant.

The time was coming when he would need a friend, and this old man was destined to play an important part in his future experiences.

CHAPTER X. SETH LAWTON.

"Mr. Lawton," said Loammi, "this boy is Scott Walton. His mother was a cousin of ours. Pa has given him a place in the store, because he hasn't any money."

"My boy," he said, grasping Scott's hand, "your mother was my favorite cousin. Poor Lucy, when I last saw her she was just married to your father. Is she—is she dead?"

"He is dead, too. He died but a few weeks since on the ship that brought us over from Liverpool."

"Mr. Lawton," said Loammi, who had been listening impatiently, "you must excuse me, as I must go upstairs and prepare for dinner."

Mr. Lawton scarcely noticed Loammi's unceremonious exit, he was so occupied with Scott.

"So you are my cousin, too," he said, in a softened voice. "I never saw you before, but I know I shall like you. You have a look like your mother."

"You are young to be an orphan. I judge from what your cousin says that you were left poor."

"Yes, father was unfortunate. He was so honest himself that he allowed people to cheat him."

"There are too many such cases. But I am glad that Cousin Ezra has opened his heart and given you a home."

He was not disposed to be ungrateful, but it did not seem to him that he owed a very large debt of gratitude to Mr. Little, who had taken[Pg 82] all his money and merely gave him his board in return for his services in the store.

"I am not surprised to hear it," he said. "Loammi reminds me of his father very strongly."

"Very much. I like business. I don't have much to do with Mr. Little there, but the superintendent, Mr. Allen, is just, and encourages me to do my best."

"He keeps down expenses. The clerks say that he pays poorer wages than anyone in the trade."

"That isn't always the sign of a good manager," said Seth Lawton, slowly. "Clerks will always work better for a generous employer. So, on the whole, Ezra may be considered well-to-do?"

"You don't look as if you were very prosperous yourself," thought Scott. "I suppose you, too, are a poor relation."

"That wouldn't be bad if you were a stranger. But how do you manage about clothes?"

"My father left me fifty dollars. Mr. Little took charge of it, and I suppose he will buy me clothing out of it."

"Humph!" said Seth Lawton, dryly. "He seems to put everything on a business basis."

Just then the door opened, and Ezra Little entered the room. He was prepared to see Mr. Lawton, Loammi having apprised him of his arrival.

"He's as poor as poverty!" he said to himself.[Pg 84] "He doesn't seem to have made much of a success."

"This is a surprise, Seth," said he, offering his hand coldly. "I had almost forgotten you."

"I have been a wanderer, Ezra. I have been in America for the last few years. I came from Michigan last."

"Yes, I have a good business on Eighth Avenue," said Ezra Little, complacently. "I haven't been a rolling stone."

"Well, I have not quite decided. I took a little while to get settled, and then I looked you up in the directory. But I have found more than I bargained for. I did not know that any of Lucy's family were in America," and he nodded in the direction of Scott.

"Yes," answered Ezra, with a slight frown; "Scott's father took it into his head to come to America when he was in the last stages of consumption. He died on the passage leaving his son to the cold mercies of the world."

"Well, I couldn't see him starve," said Mr. Little, ungraciously. "So I gave him a place in my store."

"Well, Ezra, I think you won't lose anything by your kindness to an orphan relative."

"I will do what I can for him, but I can't undertake to help any more poor relations."

His tone was significant, and Seth understood it, but his feelings did not seem to be hurt.

"That is hard to tell. Ideas of poverty are comparative. I have always supported myself, and I hope I shall continue to do so. In a great city like this I can surely find something to do."

"I think you would better have remained in Michigan. What were you doing there?"

"You couldn't get a chance to keep books here. Your age would be against you, for one thing, Seth."

"That is old when you are seeking a position.[Pg 87] I hope you have some money to fall back upon."

"That is wise. You might, perhaps, expect that I would give you a place in my store, but you would not do for the dry-goods business."

"I don't think I should," said the old man, candidly. "I have never been accustomed to very close confinement."

"Thank you, Ezra. It will be pleasant to sit down with relations. It is many years since I have done so."

Seth Lawton was introduced to Mrs. Little, who greeted him kindly, though, like her husband and son, she looked upon him as a poor relation. She had a better disposition than they, and was not so worldly minded.

Seth Lawton was seated next to Scott on one side of the table. Opposite sat Loammi.

"Put the two poor relations together, ma," he had said to his mother, beforehand. "Pa'll have his hands full if any more come to the city."[Pg 88]

"But you got bravely over it. That's because pa was smart. This old man—Seth Lawton—looks as if he wasn't worth a hundred dollars, and he must be ten years older than pa."

CHAPTER XI. SCOTT CALLS ON HIS POOR RELATION.

Ezra Little asked a good many questions of his new-found relative, but Seth Lawton's answers were vague.

"I feel repaid already," replied Seth. "It does me good to see my relations. I am glad especially to find you doing so well."

"I am in pretty fair health, thank you, Ezra. I am not likely to injure my health with rich living."

Seth Lawton eyed his young relative with a glance of curiosity. Scott flushed, for he felt that Loammi was disrespectful.

When they rose from the table, Ezra Little said: "You will have to excuse me, Seth. There is a meeting this evening of some bank directors, and, as I am one of them, I ought to attend."

"Of course we expect you to do so," said his wealthy relative, but there was no cordiality in his tone.

"Perhaps the boys will take a walk with me," suggested Seth. "I shall be glad to have them call at my room."

Mr. Little had gone off in a hurry, followed by[Pg 91] Loammi. Mr. Lawton and Scott remained a short time in conversation with Mrs. Little; then they, too, went out.

"I invited your cousin out of politeness," said Mr. Lawton, "but I am quite as well pleased to have you alone. I don't think Loammi will ever care much for me."

"He doesn't like poor relations," observed Scott. "He takes very little notice of me."

"I am afraid it can't be helped then. I am too old to start in to make a fortune; but you are young. You may be a rich man in time."

"Most of the rich men in New York and other American cities were once poor boys."

"I don't think my chances will be very good while I work for Mr. Little. I hope you will remain in New York."

"That will depend on circumstances. As Ezra Little said, a man of my age doesn't stand a good chance to get a position."

"I have not decided. I think I must call at Ezra's store to-morrow. I have some curiosity to see it."

"He would not join you in the wish. Besides, I don't think I should care to be in the dry-goods business. I suppose you mean that you would rather work for me than for him?"

"Thank you for the compliment, Scott. It doesn't look likely at present that I shall ever be your employer. I hope, however, that our friendship will continue and become more intimate."

They had walked to Broadway, and sauntered slowly down that brilliant thoroughfare. As they were passing the Fifth Avenue Hotel a fine-looking man, who had just left it, espied Scott's companion.

"I haven't been here for a good many years,[Pg 93] but I took a fancy to make a brief visit, and see how the city has changed. I suppose you are here on particular business?"

"Well, perhaps so," laughed the other. "I am staying at this hotel. Call if you have time. I shall be here three days. That is not your son?"

"That is a member of Congress from Michigan," explained Seth Lawton, in response to a look of inquiry. "I suppose he has run on from Washington for a few days."

Scott was somewhat surprised to find that his poor relation had such a prominent acquaintance; it seemed to indicate that even if he were poor and dressed shabbily, he held a good social position in his western home.

At length they reached West Sixteenth Street, and stopped at a plain three-story house. Mr.[Pg 94] Lawton took out a night key and led the way inside and upstairs.

He occupied a front room on the second floor. It was of good size and well, though plainly, furnished.

Scott was agreeably surprised. He thought his cousin would probably occupy a small hall bedroom, for he had been long enough in New York to know that lodgings were expensive. Everything looked comfortable. There was a lounge in one corner with the head toward the window.

"Partially. I breakfast in the house, but it is more convenient to take my other meals outside."

Mr. Lawton's trunk was on one side of the fireplace. It was a substantial-looking trunk, somewhat the worse for wear.

"I have in my trunk, somewhere," he said, "a picture of your mother, taken at the age of twenty. Would you like to see it?"

"Very much," answered Scott, eagerly. "I have one taken a few months before she died, but she was in ill health then."

Seth Lawton opened the trunk and soon found[Pg 95] a small photograph album. The second picture represented the attractive face of a young woman of twenty.

"Yes," answered Scott, the tears coming to his eyes. "I wish I had one like it."

"The expense will be small. In return, you must show me the later picture of your mother. She was my favorite cousin."

"I don't want to complain, but I should like it better if there were a window in it."

"I am sorry you are not more comfortably accommodated," he said. "There may be better things in store for you, however. By the way, I see your trousers are frayed about the bottoms."

"Enough, at any rate, to provide you with new clothes. Your coat is beginning to show signs of wear."

"I do; and let me know how your application is received. This is Tuesday. Call on me again Thursday evening if you can."

The rest of the evening was spent in talking of old times and scenes. Scott was much interested in what Mr. Lawton told him of his mother's early days. When he left the house Seth Lawton accompanied him as far as the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

CHAPTER XII. THE SECOND-HAND SUIT.

"I guess you're right there. Pa thinks he was a fool to come to New York. If he expects to fall[Pg 99] back on pa when he has spent all his money, he'll be disappointed."

"I don't think he has any such expectations. He seems like an independent man. He fell in with an acquaintance from Michigan who is staying at the Fifth Avenue Hotel."

"He is here on a little business. He goes back to Washington in two or three days."

"Politicians have to know everybody," remarked Loammi, after a pause. He found it difficult to conceive of "Cousin Seth" having any high-toned friends.

Scott took his lamp and went to bed. In his small chamber there was no gas jet, but this he did not mind. In England gas is not used as extensively as in the United States, and he was more accustomed to lamps or candles.

As he slowly undressed, he felt more cheerful[Pg 100] than usual. It seemed pleasanter to have found a relative who appeared to like him. He could not feel toward Ezra Little or Loammi as if they were relations.

"I am very sorry Cousin Seth is not better off," he said to himself. "If he can't get a place in the city, I suppose he will have to go back to the West. I hope not, for I shall miss him."

The next day Seth Lawton came to the Eighth Avenue store, and found his way to the department where Scott was a salesman.

"I think I shall have to buy some, just to say that I have bought from you. What do you charge?"

A cash boy was called, the goods and money were handed to him, and in due time the bundle and change were brought back.

Just then Mr. Little, who had been out to lunch,[Pg 101] came back, and passing by the sock counter recognized Mr. Lawton.

"Quite fair, but not so large as some," returned Ezra Little. "I am cramped for room. I think of taking in the adjoining store next year."

"Not so fast as I should like. Expenses are very large. How would you like to run a store like this, Cousin Seth?" he added, in a complaisant tone.

"Not very well. I might like to own it, but I don't think dry goods are in my line."

"I fancy not," said Ezra, in a tone of calm superiority. "It takes some business ability to run a large store."

"It isn't every one who works in a dry-goods store who rises beyond a salesman," returned Ezra Little, with a cold glance at Scott.

As the proprietor of the store passed on to his[Pg 102] office, Seth Lawton said: "Have you been out to lunch, Scott?"

On the way home from the store, Scott took the opportunity to speak of a new suit.

"Mr. Little," he said, "I am afraid I shall have to ask you for some new clothes."

"You seem to have high notions for a poor boy," continued his employer, in a tone of displeasure.

"They are cash boys, while I am behind the[Pg 103] counter. Besides, I don't ask you to pay out of your own pocket."

"You have forty dollars of mine, Mr. Little; the money I handed you when I went into the store."

"You seem to forget that this is to pay the difference between what you receive—a home—and what you would get in any other store like mine."

"Just as I thought. It won't be long, probably, before he wants you to borrow money on his account."

It was a trial to Scott to prefer his request, though it seemed to him necessary. Though his father had been poor, he had always been neatly dressed, and in a store he was subject to an unusual amount of scrutiny. He felt that his own money ought to be expended for what he needed.

Then, as to not earning his board, he knew that no salesman who sold as much as he did received less than eight dollars a week. It certainly did seem mean in Ezra Little to pay him less than his board.

What he should do if his application was denied he did not know. To be sure, he had enough left of the ten dollars he had recovered from Crawford Lane to buy a pair of trousers, but a new coat would be beyond his means.

During supper no reference was made to the subject, but as they were rising from the table, Mr. Little turned to his son and said: "How do you compare in size with Scott?"

In reality, Scott was two inches taller than his cousin, and probably as much larger in chest measure.

"So I thought," returned Mr. Little. "Scott thinks he needs some new clothes. Look over your suits, and see if you haven't one you can give him."

"You can go upstairs with Loammi," said Mr. Little, "and he will pick you out a suit that he has laid aside."

Scott flushed indignantly. He was not without pride, and it galled him to have his cousin's clothes turned over to him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Little," he said, "but I am taller and stouter than Loammi. I could not wear any of his cast-off suits."

Scott went upstairs with his cousin, and put on[Pg 106] a suit selected for him by Loammi, the poorest he had, and came downstairs.

The trousers were nearly two inches too short, and the coat was evidently too narrow across the shoulder.

Scott made no comment, but he made up his mind that he would get along with his old suit rather than wear his cousin's.

CHAPTER XIII. A CASH BOY'S TROUBLES.

The next day Mr. Little asked: "Did you take that suit to my tailor for alterations, Scott?"

"Thank you, sir," said Scott, coloring, "but I think I will get along for the present with the suit I am wearing."

"We will not discuss this question," said Ezra Little, coldly. "I have already told you that this money will be needed to pay your expenses."

"You have no just cause of complaint. I have offered you a suit which, when altered, would be almost as good as new. If you change your mind about accepting it, you may let me know."

"I am glad to see you, Scott," said Mr. Lawton, cordially. "But you look sober."

"I applied to Mr. Little for a new suit. He declined to buy me one, but said I could have an old suit of Loammi's altered over for me."

"Yes, but he said I was not earning my board, and this would make up the deficit."

Seth Lawton rose from his chair and paced the room. It was his habit to do so when he was disturbed.

"I didn't think Ezra Little would be so mean,[Pg 109] though I knew he was far from liberal. What did you say to his proposal?"

"I declined it. Loammi is not as large as I am, and, besides, I don't feel like wearing his second-hand clothes when Mr. Little has money of mine in his possession."

"Judging from what I have found out about the pay of other salesmen, I think that I earn more than my board."

"Perhaps you will be luckier than you imagine. You must remember that I am your relative as well as Ezra Little. I will buy you a suit."

"But, Cousin Seth, I don't want to put you to that expense. You will need all your money yourself."

"I will promise not to put myself to any inconvenience," he said. "Will that satisfy you? Will you now refuse a favor at my hands, Scott, my boy?"

"I would rather receive a favor from you than[Pg 110] from Mr. Little, if you really feel that you can afford it."

"You need not be apprehensive on that score. At what time do you go out to lunch?"

"I will call at that time to-morrow, and we will manage to get time to stop at a tailor's and leave your measure."

"As this is the first present I have given you, I will make it a good one. Probably we can find a tailor near your store."

When the suit was finished Scott put it on at once, and left his old one to be cleaned and repaired.

It was hardly to be supposed that it would escape the observation of Loammi and his father. As a matter of fact, it was handsomer than any his cousin wore.

"Seth is a fool. He is probably poor, and could not afford such an extravagant outlay."

"You shall have as good a one when you need it. It is only three weeks since I bought you a suit."

"Well, you are provided for, for the present, thanks to Seth Lawton's folly. I don't wonder he is poor if that is the way he manages. Do you know if he has got work yet?"

"I suppose he has got a little job to do at bookkeeping. Possibly it will pay him twenty-five dollars. On the strength of that he has bought you a suit at twenty-eight dollars. Seth always was a fool. When he finds himself in need, it won't do him any good to apply to me."

It was clear that Mr. Lawton had not raised himself in the estimation of his rich relatives by his kindness to Scott.

Among the cash boys who worked in the store was a pleasant-faced boy, named William Mead. He was two years younger than Scott, but the latter had taken special notice of him, and without knowing much of him, had come to feel an interest in him.

Usually Willie, as he was called, was bright and cheerful, but one day he appeared with a sad countenance.

"What is the matter, Willie?" asked Scott, when the two boys went out together at the noon hour.

Scott bought his lunch at a neighboring restaurant, but the cash boy brought his with him from home.

"Then I will tell you. I have a brother three years older than I am, who earns six dollars a week. He has been sick for two weeks, and my mother misses his wages. You know I only get two dollars and a half a week."

"Some of the stores pay more, but Mr. Little never pays more than that to a cash boy. Next week our rent comes due, and as we have a strict landlord, I am afraid he will put us out when he finds mother is not ready with the rent."

"I am sorry for you, Willie," said Scott, in a tone of sympathy. "Have you no friend you can call upon for a loan?"

"I will think whether I can do anything for you, I will see you again to-morrow."

"But you are poor yourself. Mr. Little's son was at the store one day, and I overheard him telling one of the salesmen that you were a poor relation."

"He is not likely to let me forget that. I am not sure that I can do anything for you, Willie, but if I can I will."

That evening Scott had arranged to call on Mr. Lawton. He decided to tell him of the young cash boy's troubles. Seth Lawton's face showed his sympathy.

"It is really a hard case," he said. "We must see if we can't do something for your friend."

"He will never make himself poor by his generosity. If you have the boy's address we will call upon him."

CHAPTER XIV. A HELPING HAND.

Just in front of the house, Scott met Willie Mead with a loaf of bread which he was bringing home from a neighboring bakery. His eye lighted up with pleasure when he saw Scott.

"I have brought a gentleman with me who may be able to help your mother. We will follow you upstairs."

"You may not like to climb so high, sir," said the cash boy, turning to Mr. Lawton.

"I think I can stand it for once," rejoined Seth Lawton. "I am a little more scant of breath than when I was a young man, but I am still good for a climb."

"We will stop here on the landing till you have told your mother she is to have visitors," said Seth, considerately.

The boy opened a door and entered a rear room. He reappeared in a short time, and said: "Come in, please."

The room was neat, but the scanty and well-worn furniture showed evidences of dire poverty.

Mrs. Mead, a woman of forty, though poorly dressed, had a look of refinement, though her face was sad and anxious.

As she watched the entrance of the visitors her eyes seemed riveted upon Seth Lawton. She took a step forward.

"That was my name. Now I am Mary Mead. I married, but my husband is dead. But sit down. It does me good to see an old friend."

"It seems incredible," said Seth, as he took the proffered seat. "We met last in England, and now[Pg 118] again under strange and unexpected circumstances." Seth Lawton seemed moved, but his tone was one of satisfaction.

"Three years since. He left me nothing but the children, and it has been a sad and sorrowful time. We have lived, but there have been times when we have been on the verge of starvation. And you, how has it been with you?"

"Yes, it was at my request that he took Willie into his store. But the two dollars and a half a week, which he pays him, seems very small."

"I don't think it ever occurred to him, Seth. But how did you find me? Did he give you my address?"

"No, that was not likely. Scott Walton—you must have known his mother, my cousin Lucy—works in the same store. It was he who heard of your trouble and reported it to me. Now tell me how you are situated."

"We are likely to be turned out of these poor rooms, because we cannot pay the rent. My eldest boy, Sam, has been sick, and as he earned six dollars a week, it took most of our income from us. Next week I think he will be able to go to work again."

"I earn something by sewing, but I have no sewing machine, and the prices paid are very low. Still, every little helps."

"No doubt, and I think I could do it if I had the means. But with no capital, that is out of the question," she finished, with a sigh.

"I have a proposal to make to you. I have a room in a house on West Sixteenth Street. It is a[Pg 120] moderate sized house, and is to let furnished. My present landlady is desirous of giving up the house, as she wishes to be with her mother in the country, but she is tied by a lease. Suppose you take it off her hands?"

"I should like nothing better, but you can judge whether an offer from one so poor as myself would be accepted."

"Don't trouble yourself about that," said Seth Lawton, quietly. "I will arrange it all, and will retain my room. I may say that the rooms are all taken, so that you would be sure of an income at once."

"I should like the arrangement very much, and I should like especially to have you with me, Seth; but it seems like a dream."

"We will make it a reality. I will see Mrs. Field this evening, and call on you again to-morrow. When does your month here expire?"

"The time is short, but it is sufficient. You will hear from me very soon. Meanwhile accept this small favor." He drew from his pocket a ten-dollar note, and handed it to the widow.

"You are too kind, Seth," she said, gratefully. "You look poor yourself, and——"

"I never was in the habit of dressing very handsomely," said Mr. Lawton, smiling, "and just at present I look shabbier than usual. Perhaps I have an object in it. At any rate, it is a fact. The help I offer you will not embarrass me in the least."

"What a difference between you and Ezra Little," said Mrs. Mead. "He has never offered me a dollar, though he knew me as well as you."

"He acts according to his nature, Mary. Scott is an orphan—his father died on the ship that brought them over from England—but Ezra treats him as meanly as he has treated you and your boy. He makes him work for his board, and has refused him a suit of clothes, though he stood in need of it."

Mr. Lawton remained for half an hour. Then he rose, and went downstairs, followed by Scott.

"It is strange you should have met an old acquaintance, Cousin Seth," said Scott.

"More than an acquaintance, Scott. It may seem strange to you that an old fellow like me should ever have been in love, but the time was when I was in love with Mary Grant, and asked her to be my wife."

"Yes, Scott; I was fifteen years her senior, and she liked the man, whom she soon after married, better. It was this disappointment chiefly that led to my leaving England. I am very glad to have met Mary again. Though years have passed I have not lost my attachment for her. I am glad indeed that I can do the poor woman a service."

His voice softened as he spoke, and it was clear that his early romance was not dead.

"Mr. Mead was a handsome man," continued Seth. "You can judge of that, for the boy Willie looks like him. He made a good husband, I presume, but he had not the knack of succeeding in life."

It occurred to Scott that the same thing might be said of Seth Lawton himself, but he would not, of course, speak of it. He was beginning to have a sincere respect and regard for Cousin Seth.

What matter if he were poor—at least compared with Ezra Little—he evidently had a kind heart, and was inclined to be generous beyond his means.

"All cannot become rich," said Scott. "I wish you had Mr. Little's money, though."

"Don't wish that, Scott, for without that Ezra would be poor indeed. It is all that he has to boast of."

"With this difference: Ezra, with all his faults, is enterprising and industrious, and I don't think his son will be either. In the race of life you may eclipse him, after all."

"Won't it cost a good deal to set up Mrs. Mead in her new business?" asked Scott, thoughtfully.

"Not very much. She will enter into a house fully furnished and equipped, and with a sure and prompt income from a good set of lodgers."

"I think she will. If Ezra would pay you wages, in place of giving you a home in his house, you might take a room there, too."

Yes, it was Loammi, sporting a light cane, and evidently on very good terms with himself.

"Good-evening, Mr. Lawton," responded Loammi, patronizingly. "Are you and Scott taking a walk?"

"We, too, have been to make a call—on the mother of one of your father's cash boys."

"No, of course not," answered Loammi, in a matter-of-course tone. "Well, ta, ta!"

CHAPTER XV. THE CASH BOY'S PROMOTION.

Cousin Seth arranged everything as he had planned, and Mrs. Mead's landlord, when he called, learned to his surprise that his poor tenant was intending to move.

"Yet you have always been pleading poverty, and only last month I had to wait two days for the last dollar of the rent."

"That is true; but an old friend has found me out, and will give me a helping hand."

The removal was soon made, for Mrs. Mead had little to move, and with Seth Lawton's efficient help, the widow found herself in possession of her[Pg 126] new establishment, with everything running smoothly.

"Now," said Mr. Lawton, "I must see if I can't do something for Willie. How much does Ezra Little pay him?"

"I am afraid in that case he will lose his place. The last time Willie asked for a raise he was angry."

"Very well, if he loses his place I will find him another. Or, stay, I will ask Ezra myself."

So Seth called the next evening on his rich relative. He was not received with open arms, for Mr. Little was under the impression that he wanted to borrow money.

"I can't give you much time to-night, Seth," said the merchant. "I have a business engagement. Have you found anything to do?"

"I think I can see my way clear to a place as confidential clerk and bookkeeper in a small office downtown."

"You had better accept. You are extremely lucky at your age to get such an office."

"I? You are dreaming. What, a well-known and long-established merchant to think of such a salary! You must be insane."

"What does that matter? I take it there is considerable difference between your position and mine."

"To tell the truth, I didn't think you would be able to get any position at all. I hope this won't slip through your fingers."

"Of course. You would be crazy not to do so. Remember, you will have to depend upon yourself. The fact that you are a relation will not justify you in asking help from me."

"It isn't. I find that one of your cash boys is[Pg 128] the son of an old friend of ours—Mary Mead, formerly Mary Grant."

"You pay him two dollars and a half a week. There are only two boys, and this is very small."

"But Willie is a well-grown boy of fourteen. Surely, out of old friendship, and to help his mother, you can pay him more."

"Have you been talking to Mrs. Mead, and encouraged her to think that I will increase her boy's wages?"

"Then you have done a foolish thing. I decline. I am half inclined to discharge the boy."

"You can't do it," he said. "You have no acquaintances in the city. You are not even sure of employment yourself."

"That is easy enough. You were born to be an unsuccessful man. You are fifty-six years old, and I suppose you haven't saved enough money to keep you going for three months."

"That is something. But I can't remain here talking. Don't forget what I said about making sure of the place you spoke of."

"Just as I expected," thought Seth. "Ezra seems to be a thoroughly selfish man. It is lucky for me that——" but he did not finish the sentence.

Mr. Little did not think of the matter again till the superintendent told him on Saturday night: "One of the cash boys has resigned his place."

"It is all the bad advice of Seth Lawton," he reflected. "He is a perfect meddler. Probably his mother will be here in a day or two to beg me to take him back."

But no such application came. Willie had obtained a place on Grand Street at four dollars a week.

Scott continued to enjoy the companionship of Seth Lawton, but sometimes Cousin Seth was out of the city for days at a time, in which event Scott was thrown back on the company of Loammi, but this gave him very little satisfaction.

One evening Loammi happened upon his cousin coming out of a store on Sixth Avenue.

This was enough for Loammi, who saw a chance to do his cousin an ill turn. Accordingly he said to his father that evening: "Pa, did you know that Scott had money?"

"I asked him how much he had, and he wouldn't[Pg 131] tell me. It seems to me he ought to have handed it to you."

"I told you in what light I considered it. But I won't dwell upon that now. You deceived me in letting me think you had given up all your money."

"Then how do you explain your having money at present. Was it given you by Mr. Lawton?"

"It was money that I was swindled out of by a fellow passenger. I induced him to return a part of it."

"You have given me a home, but it is in return for services in your store. As for this money, it was given me by my father and I prefer to keep it."

Ezra Little was taken aback by the boy's resolute tone. On the whole, he decided not to press the demand.

"Be it so," he said; "but understand that I shall, hereafter, give you nothing but your board and lodging. When you require clothing or anything else, you must buy it yourself."

"Seth has been talking to that boy," reflected Ezra Little. "It would serve him right for me to discharge him."

But Ezra Little knew that Scott was an excellent salesman, and that he could not supply his place at less than eight dollars a week, so he did not care to dismiss him.

CHAPTER XVI. LOAMMI'S TEMPTATION.

Loammi had a high idea of his personal qualities and social standing. But he had one grievance.

He received an allowance from his father, but it was much less than he thought he needed. Ezra Little was not a liberal man. He gave Loammi a dollar every Saturday night, and obstinately refused to give him more.

"You have no clothes to buy. I provide for you in that respect, and I think you are as well dressed as most of the boys you associate with."

"I don't complain of my clothes, but a boy[Pg 135] wants to keep up his end with his school friends. Yesterday afternoon, Henry Bates proposed to me to go in and get an ice cream, but I couldn't, for I had no money."

"Then you should manage better. If you limited yourself to ten cents a day for the first five days, you would be able to spend twenty-five cents on Friday and Saturday."

"He will have to spend it for clothes. He won't be able to buy ice cream with it."

"Still, it makes a fellow feel good to have as much money as that in his pocket."

"Pa," suggested Loammi, insinuatingly,[Pg 136] "couldn't you let me have a five-dollar bill to carry round with me, so that I could show it to my friends? They would think more of me."

"I don't wish to try the experiment. Your friends will respect you without that. They know that you are the son of a man who is well off."

"No, they don't think so, when they see that I am always short of money and hard up."

"Then let them think what they please. If they thought you had money they would want to borrow it, or urge you to spend it on them."

One day—it was Friday—he particularly wanted to use some money and was without a penny. Under these circumstances it occurred to him that his despised cousin was well supplied with cash, and might be induced to accommodate him with a loan.

Scott was rather surprised when, as he was going out after supper, Loammi joined him.

"He is doing something, but I don't know what it is. He doesn't seem to say much about his affairs."

"Oh, by the way," he said, suddenly, "I find I have left my purse at home. Could you lend me a dollar?"

Then it flashed upon Scott what was the meaning of his cousin's agreeable manner. He was of an obliging disposition, but he knew Loammi well enough to be certain that he would never see his money back.

"Yes, but I have to buy my own clothes, as you know, and I need some underclothing."

"I don't ask you to give me the money. To-morrow evening I shall get my allowance from pa, and then I can pay you back."

"You must excuse me, Loammi, but I have so little money that I have to be very careful of that little. If I had some one to buy my clothes for me, as you have, it would be different."

"Oh, well," said Loammi, offended, "do as you like. You seem to forget that but for pa you would be in the poorhouse."

"I think I could have got work somewhere else. However, I don't deny that your father gave me employment."

"Oh, you needn't go on. You have refused me a small favor. Good-evening!" and Loammi left his cousin, and went off in a huff.

"Now, I suppose Loammi will dislike me more than ever," thought Scott. "Well, I must put up with it. I am not rich enough to lend him money which he won't pay back."

Meanwhile, Loammi went home in a very unsatisfactory frame of mind. He was disgusted with himself now because he had humiliated himself so far as to ask his cousin for a loan.

Before he reached home he met a schoolmate named Paul Granger. He wished he could have avoided him for a reason that will immediately appear, but Paul met him as he turned in from the corner of West Forty-fourth Street.

"I am glad to meet you, Loammi," said Paul. "You are owing me a dollar, you know. I should like it back, as I want to go to a picnic to-morrow."

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, in apparent astonishment. "My purse is empty. I shall have to make you wait a day or two."

"I am sorry, but I really can't do anything for you to-night. About the first of next week."

"Yes, but he would be angry if he knew that I had borrowed money. He is very strict about such matters."

"Oh, I'll make it all right in a day or two," said Loammi. "Good-evening, I am in a little of a hurry."

Paul Granger walked away, pretty well assured that he would never get back his dollar.

"I suppose that fellow will be annoying me every day," said Loammi to himself. "Heigh-ho! it's awful inconvenient to be so poor. Pa could make it all right if he'd open his heart and give me five or ten dollars."

Loammi entered the house fully convinced that he was very ill used, and that his father was a very selfish man.

He walked upstairs slowly, and as he passed through the upper hall he saw the door of his mother's chamber open. He went in, thinking that he might be able to borrow from her, when as his eyes glanced around the room he saw something that made his heart beat quicker.

Without any definite idea of what he would do, he walked softly to the bureau, and taking the pocketbook in his hand, opened it. It contained two bills, a five-dollar note and a one.

"This would just get me out of my trouble," he thought. "I wish this money was mine."

It was a strong temptation. With the one dollar he could pay Paul Granger, and the five would last him some time, supplementing what he called his miserable allowance.

He put the pocketbook in his pocket, and slipping downstairs stealthily, went out again into the street.

CHAPTER XVII. SUSPICION FALLS UPON SCOTT.

As he reached the street, Loammi paused, for a thought came to him. It was a mean, despicable thought, worse than the theft. But it struck him favorably, and he decided to act upon it.

He opened the front door—for he had a latchkey—and went upstairs again. But not to his mother's room. Instead, he went one floor higher, and opened the door of Scott's little chamber. Then he took the two bills from the pocketbook and thrust them into his vest pocket.

Next he looked about his cousin's chamber, and after some deliberation lifted the lid of a small box that stood on a shelf and dropped the pocketbook inside.

Then, with a look of satisfaction, he closed the door of the room and went into the hall. As he did so another door opened upon the landing, and Ellen, the servant, came out of her own room.

She looked with some surprise at Loammi, who did not very often show himself upon the third floor.

Loammi was somewhat disconcerted by this sudden encounter. He felt that it might prove awkward for him.

"I thought he might be in his room, and so came up. But he doesn't appear to be there."

"It is well I had my wits about me," he thought, complacently. "That was a pretty good explanation. Ellen won't suspect anything. She will think it is all right."

Loammi walked briskly. He was in good spirits, for it made him feel comfortable to think he had six dollars in his pocket. He could not remember[Pg 144] the time when he had so much money in his pocket at once.

He walked over to Sixth Avenue, and entered a small ice cream saloon. Just at the door he met Paul Granger. He was already entering the saloon, when he caught sight of Paul.

Had he seen him sooner he would perhaps have walked on, and put off the ice cream. As it was, he made the best of the situation.

They sat down at a small table, and the ice cream was brought, with a plate of cake besides.

Paul Granger began to think Loammi was a nice fellow, after all—especially when he received[Pg 145] back the dollar a little later on. In paying for the ice cream, Loammi got the five-dollar bill changed.

"Whew! I should think your ship had come in," exclaimed Paul. "You'll be in funds now."

As the two boys left the ice-cream saloon they came upon Scott, who was just passing. This annoyed Loammi, who didn't care to have his cousin know that he had been spending money.

The two boys walked as far as Bryant Park and sat down on a bench. They talked about such[Pg 146] subjects as interest schoolboys, till Paul, looking at his watch, said: "It is time for me to go home; mother has a bad headache, and I promised I wouldn't stay out late."

Meanwhile, Mrs. Little had a call from her seamstress, who brought home some work upon which she had been engaged.

Mrs. Little felt in her pocket for her money, and didn't find it. She looked puzzled at first, then her brow cleared up.

"That is strange," she soliloquized. "I distinctly remember laying it down on the bureau."

"Ellen," she said, "have you by chance been into my chamber within an hour or two?"

"My pocketbook is missing. I laid it down on the bureau and forgot to take it up again."

"It is a little awkward. Miss Green, my seamstress, is here, and I want to pay her two dollars. Do you happen to have any money with you?"

"Who can have taken the money?" thought Mrs. Little. "It can't be Ellen, for she is an old and trusted servant, and there doesn't seem to be anyone else. It is certainly mysterious."

Mrs. Little did not so much care for the money; it was the mystery that perplexed her. She was sure she had placed the pocketbook on the bureau, and it could not have got away without hands.

"Really," thought Mrs. Little, "if the amount were larger, I might think it necessary to call in a detective."

Possibly the pocketbook had fallen on the carpet. She instituted a search, but it proved unsuccessful.

"I wonder whether the loss has been discovered?" he said to himself. "I'll find ma, and then I shall learn."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Loammi, in innocent surprise. "I hope there wasn't much money in it."

"Well, it may not mean anything, but I know Scott has a five-dollar bill. I saw it to-night. But, of course, there are plenty of five-dollar bills."

CHAPTER XVIII. TRAPPED.

"I don't like to think so myself," rejoined Loammi, "but some one must have taken it."

Mrs. Little looked embarrassed. She was a kind-hearted woman, and she shrank from charging Scott with theft.

"Yes; I have met with a loss. My pocketbook, containing a sum of money, has disappeared."

"I don't know what to think. Loammi tells me[Pg 152] that you have in your possession a five-dollar bill. The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill."

"Yes, Mrs. Little; I have a five-dollar bill of my own, I have had it for some time. This Loammi knew, and also where I got it."

"I don't know anything about that. But it seems very strange what can have become of the money."

"I have something to propose. Suppose you search my chamber and Scott's, to see if there is any such pocketbook in either."

The three went into Loammi's room. Of course the search revealed nothing of the lost pocketbook.

Loammi lifted the pillow, then the bedclothes, peered behind the table, and under the bed.

"Of course, I haven't the slightest idea of finding it here, Scott," he said, "but it is just as well to look thoroughly."

With a nonchalant air Loammi went to the shelf, and raised the cover of a small tin box.

"That is my pocketbook," said Mrs. Little, quickly. "Oh, Scott, how could you have taken it?"

"That the person who stole the pocketbook took out the money and placed it where it was found."

He gazed fixedly at Loammi, who flushed a little, for he saw that he was suspected.

"Ma," he said, "I hope you'll forgive Scott. Probably he will be willing to give up the money."

"I consider that remark an insulting one, Loammi. I don't want to be forgiven, nor can I give up money that I didn't take."

"We won't continue the discussion," said Mrs. Little, sadly. "I would a great deal rather have given away the money than lose it in this way."

"I shall have to, if you don't explain how the pocketbook came to be in your room."

It will readily be supposed that Scott did not sleep much that night. He saw the awkwardness of his position.

He felt convinced that Loammi, if he had not taken the money, had secreted the pocketbook in his room with the design of throwing suspicion upon him. But how could he prove this?

Of course it was a despicable thing to do, but he believed that his cousin was quite capable of it.

The next morning Scott shrank from going down to breakfast. It was embarrassing for him to be looked upon as a thief, even though he were supported by the consciousness of innocence.

As soon as he entered the dining room, he saw by Mr. Little's cold and frigid expression that he had been told.

When Scott rose from the table, Mr. Little said: "Stay behind a minute, young man. I have something to say to you."

"Mrs. Little has told me of the discovery that was made in your chamber last evening."

"The pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill. I learn that you have a five-dollar bill."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Little, but you yourself probably have a five-dollar bill in your pocket. It proves nothing."

"You are very plausible, but I am not easily fooled. I have just one thing to say. Give up that five-dollar bill, and we will overlook the theft."

"You are treating me with great injustice," he said. "My innocence will some day appear. In the meantime I shall leave your house at once, sir."

"That is for you to decide," said Mr. Little, coldly, as he rose from the table.

He was innocent, yet adjudged guilty. His home and situation were taken from him, and he was turned out into the street.

"No; he left last evening for the West, to be absent about a month. He asked me to say that he would write you in a day or two. He was called away suddenly by a telegram."

CHAPTER XIX. A NEW HOME.

"Have you a small room vacant, Mrs. Mead? I have left Mr. Little's house also, and I must find a room somewhere."

The room was small, as Mrs. Mead had described it, but it was scrupulously clean. Scott felt that he would be very well satisfied with it, if only he could continue to pay the rent. It was certainly pleasanter than the room he had occupied at Ezra Little's.

"You must dine with us to-night, Mr. Walton," said Mrs. Mead, hospitably. "Willie will be glad to see you, and then you can tell us how you came to leave the store."

As soon as he was settled, Scott went out and began to look for a position. He bought a morning paper, and looked over the advertisements of "Help Wanted."

He took down several names, and began to call in rotation. In several instances he found the places already filled. In one place he was offered two dollars and a half a week, which he knew it would be idle to accept, as it would do little more than pay his room rent.

Scott was depressed. He saw that any explanation he might give of his leaving his former place would only injure him. Yet, almost everywhere the question would be asked.

This made him feel all the more that he had been very unjustly treated by Ezra Little. He had been required to plead guilty to a theft which he had not committed, and to replace the money lost with money of his own. He had very properly declined to do this, and now he was thrown out of employment, with very little chance of securing another place.

Several days passed, and Scott must have made application for a hundred situations. But his luck did not improve. One obstacle was a general business depression which made employers averse to hiring new employees.

And all the while his scanty funds were diminishing. He sought out cheap restaurants and limited his orders to the barest necessities, but still his money melted away till at length he was reduced to fifty cents. Besides, his week was about[Pg 162] out and he would be called upon to pay a second week's rent.

This was, of course, out of the question. Poor Scott was deeply perplexed. He began to think it would have been better if he had complied with Ezra Little's demand for the five-dollar bill. It was about gone now, and he was without an income.

He chanced to be passing the Gilsey House at four o'clock in the afternoon, when he heard his name called.

Looking up, he recognized the familiar face of Justin Wood, whom he had not met for some weeks.

"I am glad to see you once more, Scott," said the young man, cordially. "Why haven't you called upon me?"

"It must have been when I was making a short visit to Philadelphia. But now come in, and give an account of yourself. How does it happen that you are in the streets at this hour?"

"Now take a seat at the window," said Justin Wood, pointing to an armchair, "and tell me why you were discharged."

"This money which Mr. Little wished you to give up was a part of what you recovered from that swindler at Staten Island, I presume?"

"I don't want to go back to Mr. Little's if I can find another place. Besides, it will still be said that the pocketbook was found in my room."

"There will be a difficulty. If you get evidence of his having changed a five-dollar bill about that time, now——"

"I have a room on West Sixteenth Street, at the house of a Mrs. Mead, but I shall have to leave it to-morrow."

"But," said Scott, "ought I accept so much? I don't know when I shall be able to repay you."

"It is hardly worth mentioning," he said. "If it will do you good I am glad. Now, you must come in and take some dinner with me. I have[Pg 165] eaten nothing since breakfast, and am almost famished."

The young man ordered a plain, but most appetizing dinner, to which Scott and himself did equal justice. Scott, too, had eaten nothing since breakfast, and that breakfast had been a meager one.

After dinner the two friends hailed a car and went uptown. They spent an hour in Central Park.

"Would you mind if I called at Mr. Little's house?" asked Scott. "There may be a letter for me from Cousin Seth."

Scott rang the bell, and the door was opened by Ellen. Her eye brightened when she saw Scott, whom she liked much better than Loammi.

"Only an hour before, I myself saw Loammi coming out of your chamber. He pretended that he went there expecting to see you."

"I do that. All this week he's been unusually flush of cash. It's easy to guess where it came from."

"And I have had to suffer for his theft. Oh, by the way, Ellen, has any letter come here for me?"

CHAPTER XX. SCOTT IS VINDICATED.

Scott opened the letter, which proved to be brief. It was dated at the Sherman House, Chicago, and ran thus:

"I shall be glad to make the acquaintance of Mr. Lawton," said Justin. "He is evidently a good friend of yours."

"If he were here now he might get me a place. I don't stand much chance myself."

"I must see if I can't find some temporary work for you to do. Suppose we take an ice cream. Do you know any good place near by?"

Scott led the way to the place already referred to, frequented by his cousin, Loammi. When they entered, Scott saw Loammi seated at a table in the rear part of the saloon.

He espied the new arrival, and was evidently surprised to meet Scott in such a place.

"Then how can you afford to buy ice cream?" Loammi was about to ask, but the presence of Justin Wood checked him. Mr. Wood was handsomely dressed, and looked like a man of means.

"I wonder where Scott picked him up," thought Loammi. He wished to be introduced, but Scott did not give any encouragement in that direction.

"I suppose I am prejudiced against him," said Scott. "I don't think I could ever like him."

Scarcely had Loammi left the saloon, when Scott was surprised to see Ezra Little and his wife enter.

Mrs. Little first caught sight of Scott, and spoke in a low tone to her husband.

"So this is where you spend your ill-gotten money," he said, not noticing that Scott was in the company of the fashionably dressed young man sitting on the opposite side of the table.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Justin Wood, "but it is my money that is being spent."

"I was not aware that you were in the boy's company," said Ezra Little, respectfully, for he saw that Mr. Wood was a gentleman of social position. "I must explain that your companion left my house a week since under discreditable circumstances."

"He told me the circumstances. You assumed that the money he had in his possession was stolen."

"There can hardly be a doubt of it. There was[Pg 170] a five-dollar bill—and the missing pocketbook contained a five-dollar bill."

"I am personally cognizant of the fact that the money was his own. Indeed, I helped to recover it for him from a swindler who had robbed him of it."

"Scott and I called at your house this evening. The servant said that an hour before the discovery of the pocketbook your son was seen by her coming out of Scott's room."

"Moreover, I think if you inquire, you will find that some of the stolen money was disposed of in this saloon. Your son only went out ten minutes since. Suppose you inquire whether he has changed a five-dollar bill here recently."

"Can you call to mind whether you have ever changed a five-dollar bill for him?"

"Scott," he said, "I think there may have been some mistake about your taking the pocketbook. If you will call at the store to-morrow, I will see about taking you back."

Scott bowed, but did not speak. He felt that he could never again be contented in Mr. Little's employment.

When they left the saloon he asked: "What do you advise me to do about going back, Mr. Wood?"

"Don't go," said Justin Wood, promptly. "I will stand by you, and see if I can't get you something better."

"Thank you, sir. I don't want to go back if I can help it. But I am glad my innocence has been proved."

Loammi was already at the house when his father and mother came in. He had no suspicion of trouble, but was eager to tell his father that he had seen Scott.

"At an ice-cream saloon on Sixth Avenue. His money seems to have lasted him pretty well."

"Once or twice, I believe," answered Loammi, wondering what his father meant by his strict cross-examination.

"Where," asked his father, sternly, "did you get the five-dollar bill that you got changed there a week ago to-day?"

Loammi would willingly have been excused from doing this, but he knew there was no alternative.

When Ellen appeared, Mr. Little said: "Do you remember the evening when the pocketbook was found in Master Scott's room?"

"Now, what have you to say?" demanded Ezra Little, addressing his son. "Did you or did you not take the pocketbook?"

"And you had the meanness to throw suspicion on your cousin. I am ashamed of you."

"I have myself seen Scott this evening, and I also learned from the keeper of the ice-cream saloon that you changed a five-dollar bill there a week since. I have told Scott to come back to the store. As for you, you deserve to be punished. I shall therefore reduce your allowance from a dollar a week to fifty cents till the sum you stole has been made up. Now, you can go upstairs to bed."

"Now Scott will be crowing over me," he[Pg 175] thought to himself. "I can't stand it; I think I will run away."

"You can come back to work on Monday morning," said Ezra, "and you can go round to the house this evening."

Ezra Little was very much surprised, for the firm mentioned was in the wholesale line and stood very high.

"Very well," said Mr. Little, curtly. "You will bear in mind that I offered you your position back. Of course, if you lose your new place I can make no promises."

CHAPTER XXI. A NEW PLACE.

The house of Tower, Douglas & Co. occupied a very high position in New York, and was known by reputation all over the country. The firm was liberal and considerate, and there were plenty of boys and young men who sought to enter their establishment.

Rich men sometimes offered the services of their sons, but Mr. Tower was never willing to accept them.

"A boy who works for nothing," he said, "is worth only what he receives. He loses his self-respect, and has no ambition to rise."

Generally, however, the wages paid to beginners were small, not over three or four dollars a week.

Of course it was impossible for Scott to live on such pay. Justin Wood was a relative of Mrs. Tower, and being personally liked by her husband, was the better able to secure favors.

When he obtained Scott's engagement he said: "Now as to the rate of compensation, Mr. Tower; how much are you willing to pay my young friend?"

"We usually pay three dollars a week. We will stretch a point and make it four in the case of young Walton."

"True," said Justin Wood, smiling, "but you may charge the extra six dollars to me."

"That will make a difference; but suppose our other employees find it out; then there will be dissatisfaction."

"Then let him understand that he is only paid ten dollars as a special favor to me, and that the arrangement must be kept strictly secret."

"He will. You need be under no apprehensions.[Pg 178] I am something of a judge of boys, and I can assure you that he has a talent for business."

When Scott was informed that he would receive ten dollars a week he was delighted, and thanked Mr. Tower warmly.

"I know you can't," said the merchant, "but Mr. Wood is a cousin of my wife, and it is on his account that I pay you so liberal a salary. I expect you to work zealously so that you may deserve it."

Scott spoke confidently, and Mr. Tower was pleased with his modest self-assurance.

"I don't think Justin is deceived in the boy," he said to himself. "At any rate, I will give him a fair chance."

Six months later, when Justin Wood called and asked how Scott was progressing, Mr. Tower said: "He is a born salesman. He is quick, shrewd, intelligent, and above all, he inspires confidence in customers. We will hereafter pay him ten dollars a week on our own account, and will not ask you[Pg 179] to reimburse us. But we will not raise him above that till the end of the year."

"Send him on the road as soon as you consider him competent. I think he will make a successful drummer."

"That is my intention. Some of my salesmen can never go outside the store. Young Walton will make a good record outside."

Scott had been with the new firm for a month, when Seth Lawton returned from Chicago. He was much pleased at Scott's success, but understood very well that he was indebted for it to the friendly offices of Justin Wood.

"Do your best, Scott," he said. "You are at the bottom of the ladder, but you must climb. Your future depends on yourself. Do you ever see anything of Loammi?"

"I have met him two or three times. He seems surprised, and I think a little disappointed, at my success."

"No; I promised to keep that a secret. But he knows that I live in a comfortable boarding house[Pg 180] on Lexington Avenue, and have a good room. If he knew I was paid ten dollars a week he would want to borrow money. His father has reduced his allowance to fifty cents a week, and he complains that he might as well be a newsboy. 'Don't you think the old man is mean?' he asked me yesterday."

"Good! I see you are discreet. What is Ezra going to do with his son? Will he train him up to business?"

"Would you really like to go to college, Scott?" asked Seth Lawton, thoughtfully.

"No, I think not as I am at present situated. I could not enter before I am eighteen, and by that time I shall be well advanced in the knowledge of business."

"I think you are right, but I advise you to study,[Pg 181] and read instructive books in your leisure hours."

"I am doing that, Cousin Seth, and I am thinking soon of taking a commercial course in some business college."

"I can afford to pay that myself, cousin. You are too generous. That is what keeps you poor."

"Oh, I am not so unselfish as you suppose," he said. "I make enough to live comfortably."

"Yes, Cousin Seth, but you ought to be saving up money. You are no longer a young man."

"I am afraid not," he answered; "but you have another relative who would be glad to help you."

"Good boy!" said Seth, and he looked moved. "Yes, I think you would be willing to help me if I were in need, but at present you have only enough for yourself."

"You are right. It will do you no harm to be economical. By the way, has Ezra Little never returned to you the forty dollars you placed in his hands?"

"I don't think I would like to speak to him on the subject," said Scott, thoughtfully.

In fact, Mr. Lawton lost no time in doing as he proposed. He called at Ezra Little's house and broached the subject.

"I don't look upon it in that light," said Mr. Little. "I gave the boy a place in my store."

"I don't agree with you. It strikes me, Ezra,[Pg 183] that it is small business to take the boy's small capital and appropriate it to your own use."

"On the contrary, as Scott has no one else to speak up for him, I consider that, as his near relative, it is my duty to do it."

"If you had attended to your own affairs, instead of meddling with others, you would not be in danger of going to the poorhouse, as you are at present."

"Am I?" asked Seth, looking amused. "You seem to know a good deal about my affairs."

"I don't suppose you have a hundred dollars in the world. If you should be in need you mustn't expect me to help you."

"Mr. Lawton, I will not submit to such insinuations. If Scott should lose his position, as he is likely to do if he is guided by your advice, I will help him out of the money in my hands."

"Very well; I will hold you to that. However, I don't think he is likely to be placed in that predicament."

"More than you paid him. However, I will not occupy any more of your time. If you become ashamed of your meanness, you can let me know."

"Seth Lawton, I won't stand any more of your impertinence. You appear to forget who I am."

"The beggar!" soliloquized the merchant. "He need never expect any favors from me. He will yet repent his impertinence."

CHAPTER XXII. THE POOR INVENTOR.

Had Scott spent all his salary he could not have been charged with extravagance, for ten dollars a week in a large city melts away, but he made it a matter of principle to save two dollars weekly. So at the end of a year he had one hundred dollars, and was fairly well clothed.

He answered it with some little trepidation, for it was possible that the firm had decided to dispense with his services.

"Take a seat, Scott," said Mr. Tower, pleasantly, when he entered the office. "I believe you have been with us for a year."

"We are quite satisfied with you. You have shown ability as a salesman, and have taken an[Pg 186] intelligent interest in the business. For this reason we are disposed to promote you."

"Though you are unusually young, we are disposed to try you on the road. How would you like that?"

"Your compensation, if you are successful, would be considerably greater than you are now paid. How much, will depend upon your success."

"We shall start you out probably within a week. One of our salesmen is sick, and we shall put you on his route. You will go to Cleveland and intermediate places. You will receive your instructions in due time."

Scott left the office much elated. He knew that there was no drummer employed by the firm less than twenty-three years of age, while he was barely eighteen. He resolved to succeed if success were possible, for he felt that this would give him an important position and an excellent income.

"How fortunate I did not stay with Cousin[Pg 187] Ezra," he thought. "If I had probably I should not be receiving more than six dollars a week now."

Scott, as has already been said, boarded on Lexington Avenue. He occupied a small room, and paid but five dollars a week, but those who occupied the larger rooms paid in proportion to the accommodation enjoyed.

In the room just opposite to his lived a man of about forty, whom Scott had met more than once on the stairs but did not feel very well acquainted with.

Just after supper he was preparing to go out, when there was a knock at the door.

Opening it, he found that the caller was his opposite neighbor. He was looking pale and depressed.

"Certainly, Mr. Babcock; won't you step in and sit down?" said Scott, cordially.

The visitor hesitated, then said, slowly: "I will do so, but I shall not be very good company."

"I am glad of the chance of making your acquaintance," said Scott. "I have only seen you on the stairs heretofore."

Scott could guess why, for his visitor was very poorly clad. His suit was frayed and rusty, and there were unmistakable marks of poverty about his whole appearance.

Scott felt delicate about speaking of this. He contented himself with saying: "I am sorry to hear it."

"The fact is," went on Babcock, with a sigh, "I am a failure, and have just begun to realize it."

"If you wouldn't mind telling me about it," said Scott, gently, "I can at least sympathize with you."

"You must know that I am an inventor. I need say no more to satisfy you that I am a visionary and unpractical man."

"I have used up all my money, and though the[Pg 189] invention is perfected, I am unable to reap the benefit of it."

"It is a window fastener. You may think it a trifle, but it is the small inventions which from their nature come into common use, and thus pay the best."

"A year. I had a little money when I began, and it has supported me while I was at work. Now that the invention is perfected, I am without funds. I may as well be plain, and say that I cannot pay my next week's board."

"It is what I have been hoping for. In fact, I called yesterday on a prominent merchant, and laid the matter before him."

"He listened to what I had to say, and promised[Pg 190] to write to me. He did so. Shall I show you the letter?"

The inventor drew from his pocket a typewritten letter, and showed it to Scott. It ran thus:

"No," answered the inventor, bitterly. "Think of the year's labor I have spent upon it, and the prospect before me if I accept this paltry sum. With economy it would last me a month, and then what would become of me?"

"True; but there are other men besides Mr. Little, who might perhaps deal with you more generously."

"You are right, but I don't think you understand my position. My available funds are reduced to two dollars. Sometimes in my desperation I have thought I would go down to Brooklyn Bridge, and end it all. I think I should have done so but for one thing."

"What is that?" asked Scott, beginning to show a strong personal interest in his unfortunate visitor.

"I know of a gentleman who is well supplied with money, and I will lay the matter before him. Meanwhile, as you need the money, accept this loan."

Scott drew from his pocket two five-dollar bills and tendered them to Mr. Babcock.

"You have given me new life and new hope," said the inventor, his pale face brightening. "Who is the gentleman?"

"A Mr. Wood—Justin Wood. He lives at the Gilsey House, and he has been very kind to me.[Pg 192] In fact, I owe the position I hold to him."

"When can we see him? Excuse my impatience, but you can understand how much it means to me."

"I do, Mr. Babcock, and I will therefore go with you to his hotel this very evening, though we may possibly not find him in."

CHAPTER XXIII. EZRA LITTLE'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

Arrived at the Gilsey House, Scott went into the reading room, thinking he might find Mr. Wood there. But he failed to see him.

"Whom are you looking for?" asked Edward Stripling, the telephone boy, who occupied one corner of the room.

"Perhaps you are the one he wanted to see. He told me to tell any one inquiring that he would be back in fifteen minutes."

The inventor took up a paper from the table, but he was so nervous that he could not concentrate his attention upon it.

Mr. Wood had a front room on the third floor a pleasant apartment, for which he paid a high rent.

"Now, Mr. Wood," began Scott, "I am going to ask your attention for ten minutes."

Thereupon Scott told the story of the inventor, to which Justin Wood listened attentively.

"I think well of your invention," said Mr. Wood, in conclusion. "Now, what do you want me to do?"

"Mr. Babcock has exhausted all his means and[Pg 195] is penniless," he said. "The invention is perfected, but he is not in a position to put it before the public. He has, to be sure, received offers of assistance from a gentleman whom we both know."

"He offers me thirty-five dollars for the invention," said Babcock, bitterly. "I have spent a whole year in perfecting it, and this is to be my compensation."

"I think you had better not trouble Mr. Little," observed Justin, quietly. "How much money do you need to put it before the public?"

"If I had one hundred and fifty dollars," said the inventor, hesitatingly, "I think I could manage. I would be willing to sell a one-half interest for that sum."

"I will tell you what I will do. I will give you five hundred dollars for one-third interest, on condition that you work zealously to make it a success."

"Oh, sir, you are too generous," said Babcock, with emotion. "With that money I see my way clear."

"I can make arrangements with a responsible party to manufacture it, and will myself travel and put it before the public."

"The friend is Scott Walton," he said, smiling. "Should it pay, I shall deduct the five hundred dollars from the first money received in the way of profit, and then make over the whole investment to you, Scott. I hope it may make you rich."

"There is no doubt about that," said the inventor, confidently. "You will excuse me for saying, Mr. Wood, that I shall work even harder for my young friend Walton than I would for you."

"That is just what I wish. I am already rich, while Scott has his fortune yet to make."

"Come around to-morrow, Mr. Babcock, at ten o'clock, and I will have the money ready. We will also have papers regularly drawn up, so that Scott's share of the investment may be secured to him. And now, I shall have to bid you good-evening, as I have an engagement with a friend at the Union League Club."

"Mr. Walton," he said, "you don't know what you have done for me. You have given me a new lease of life. When I came to your room to-night I was in a mood that might have led me to throw myself from the Brooklyn Bridge. Mr. Little's cold-blooded letter had much to do with bringing on that mood. I felt that there was no hope for me."

"Now I have hope—and confidence. I have a presentiment of success. I shall make myself rich and you also."

"I hope your presentiment will prove prophetic," said Scott, smiling. "I can assure you that[Pg 198] a fortune will be welcome. At present I have only accumulated one hundred dollars."

"No, I am going to travel for the firm. If I am lucky I shall soon earn an excellent income."

"I was not referring to your regular position. I was thinking of your interest in my invention."

"I hope you are right; mostly, however, on your account, for I think my future is tolerably secure."

"I shall not think seriously of it, but I will welcome any good that may come to me from it."

"My life will be changed," said Babcock. "I shall at once send for my little Molly."

"In the country. Now, I shall feel justified in bringing her to the city. She is a sweet little girl."

"No; I shall answer it in person to-morrow, after I have concluded arrangements with your friend."

About two o'clock the next day, the inventor took his way to Ezra Little's dry-goods store on Eighth Avenue. He sent in his name and was admitted.

He was a welcome visitor, for Mr. Little, who was a practical man, had a fair conception of the value of his invention, and meant to make a fortune out of it—for himself. As for the poor inventor, he cared little for him.

"Probably it is more than I shall make out of it, but you seemed to be in need, and I am willing to help you."

"Don't you think, however, you could let me have more? Thirty-five dollars would not support me a month."

"Mr. Little," he said, triumphantly, "I have sold a one-third interest in my invention for five hundred dollars."

"Why didn't you tell me that at first?" snarled Ezra Little. "Wood must have been a fool to be influenced by that boy. Good-morning!"

CHAPTER XXIV. LOAMMI HEARS GOOD NEWS.

On the Monday succeeding, Scott started on his trip with a supply of samples and full instructions. His route extended as far as Cleveland, including Albany and the principal towns in New York State, besides some in Ohio.

He traveled slowly, having been told to make a thorough canvass of the places he visited.

He was everywhere well received. His bright, pleasant manner made friends, and though sometimes his youth proved at first an obstacle, in a short time he won the confidence of customers. It became clear that he understood his business.

"You are rather young to represent such a large firm as Tower, Douglas & Co," said a careful Scotch merchant in Syracuse.

"Then you don't think it was because you were extra smart?" asked the merchant, pointedly.

Scott answered these questions freely and intelligently. He seemed to understand the different qualities of the goods he carried, and would not allow himself to make any claims for them that could not be substantiated. As a result, Mr. Cameron bought a large order.

At Elmira, Scott received the following in a letter from Mr. Douglas, the junior partner: "You are doing finely. You are beating the record."

This pleased Scott. He did not know whether he had done as well as was anticipated, but this reassured him.

Two days after Scott started on his mission, Loammi entered the store on a visit instigated by curiosity. It was partly also at the suggestion of his father, who thought through Scott's influence he might redeem his error and obtain an interest in the invention, which he believed would be very profitable.

Entering the store, Loammi looked about him, and finally spoke to a young man near the door.

The clerk addressed was a friend of Scott, and guessed who it was that was inquiring about him. He was tempted to play a joke on Loammi.

Loammi brightened up. It seemed too good news to be true. His despised cousin had been discharged.

"No, I don't," answered the other, with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you know him?"

"Yes; he'll never stay long anywhere. Pa had him in his store for a while—Ezra Little's store, Eighth Avenue—but he was obliged to send him away."

"Dear me! I am proud to know you. And I suppose you will some time own the store?" continued the clerk, inquiringly.

"Probably, though I am not sure but I may become a lawyer. Do you know where Walton lives?"

Loammi took his departure in a very complacent frame of mind. He had always been jealous of Scott, and the intelligence that he had lost his place was very agreeable to him.

It so happened that on Broadway he met Seth Lawton, whom he had not seen for a good while. Under ordinary circumstances he would have taken no notice of him, but now he had an object in speaking to him.

"Oh, good-morning, Loammi," rejoined the old man, who was short-sighted, when he realized who it was that had addressed him.

"Is it possible?" ejaculated Seth, who at once guessed how Loammi had been misled.

"I don't think he will. If he don't do for Tower, Douglas & Co., he won't do for pa."

"Oh, well," said Loammi, carelessly, "he can get a chance to sell papers or—black boots."

"Surely your father would not allow his young cousin to sink to that employment."

"Pa wouldn't interfere. I have heard him say that he has washed his hands of Scott. If he had behaved himself it would have been different."

"You'd better not, Cousin Seth. You are a poor man, and it will be all you can do to look after yourself."

"He must look out for himself. I advise you not to call round and ask pa to take him back."

"The old man feels pretty bad," thought Loammi. "Well, they are a good match. For my part I don't think much of poor relations."

"Oh, I suppose he was too fresh. Now, I suppose, he will be trying to come back to you."

"One thing, he couldn't put on any airs after his disgrace. By the way, I met Mr. Lawton on Broadway."

"Oh, well, he will probably be coming around to see me after a while. I should like to have him, as I want to get at that inventor through him."

Mr. Little looked for Scott from day to day, but three weeks passed and he heard nothing from him.

CHAPTER XXV. AT NIAGARA FALLS.

On his way back from Cleveland, Scott, having the necessary leisure, stopped a couple of days at Niagara Falls. He registered his name at the Clifton House, on the Canada side.

He lost no time in visiting the objects of interest connected with the falls, and at the close of the first day sat on the piazza, with the falls in sight.

A blond-bearded young man of perhaps twenty-five, evidently an Englishman, sat near by. He looked at Scott once or twice, as if tempted to speak, but a certain reticence characteristic of his countrymen appeared to prevent.

"Yes," answered the young man, "you are right. The falls are grand. You Americans ought to be very proud of them."

The Englishman looked surprised, for Scott,[Pg 211] though he had only been in America a year, had come to resemble the people among whom he had cast his lot.

"You are not—in business?" queried the Englishman, noticing his youthful appearance.

"But how do you happen—excuse my asking—to be here? But perhaps it is your vacation."

"No, I am traveling for the firm. I am a traveling salesman for the house of Tower, Douglas & Co."

"I confess I am puzzled. You occupy such a responsible position, and yet you are so young."

He took from his pocket a card, from which Scott learned that he was Lord Cecil Grant, Earl of Windermere.

"I am honored in making your acquaintance," said Scott. "May I say that you seem young to be an earl? I fancied all earls were at least fifty years of age."

"I wish that I had waited till fifty for my title," said the young Englishman, gravely; "but my poor father died suddenly, six months ago, and partly to dissipate my grief I came to America."

"Have you been here long, my lord?" asked Scott, not knowing exactly how to address his distinguished companion.

"It comes awkwardly to an American to use it, and you are already half an American."

"You may call me Mr. Grant, if you like. If you come to know me better, you may call me Cecil. I shall take the liberty, since you are a boy, to call you Scott."

As he spoke there was a winning smile upon his face, and Scott felt that he should like him.

"I will try to forget that you are an earl," he said, "and then I shall feel more at home with you."

He put on his hat, and the two sauntered off together. They were both good walkers, and had covered several miles before they returned to the hotel.

"I wish I had met you before, Scott," said the earl, familiarly. "Won't you tell me something about yourself, and your history? I am sure you have one."

Almost before he knew it, Scott had told the story already familiar to the reader. The earl listened with evident interest.

"Really," he said, "it is worthy of telling in book form. That uncle of yours——"

"No matter. We will say relative. He must certainly be a mean, disagreeable fellow, don't you know, and as to your cousin with the peculiar name——"

"I think he is," said Scott, smiling; "but I assure you he considers himself infinitely above me."

"You compliment me. Well, here we are at the hotel. What are your plans for to-morrow? I hope you do not leave in the morning?"

"Then we will do so. I will secure a carriage in the morning, and we will make a day of it."

He was as good as his word, and Scott had a delightful time. He almost succeeded in forgetting[Pg 215] his companion's rank, and found him a congenial companion.

Just after supper, when the earl had gone up to his room, a pretentious-looking man of middle age, who seemed to be continually trying to assert his claim to superiority, came up to Scott.

"He will come up and speak to me, and then we shall probably go out to walk together."

Mr. Burton regarded Scott with new respect. He had unceremoniously called him "boy," but it was before he knew that he was a friend of an earl.

"I am not quite sure whether he would be willing," returned Scott, with hesitation.

"I am Nathan Burton, of Albany. I have been an alderman," said the other, consequentially.

"Stranger things have happened," rejoined Mr. Burton, complacently. "Did you come over with the earl?"

"An aristocratic name!" thought the Albany alderman. "Are you related to the earl?"

"Yes, but first——" And here in a low voice Scott communicated Mr. Burton's request.

"My lord," said Scott, formally, "allow me to present Mr. Alderman Burton, of Albany."

"I am glad to become acquainted with a representative American," said the earl, in a dignified voice, quite different from his tone in talking with Scott.

"My lord earl, I feel very much honored to make your acquaintance," said Mr. Burton, with another profound bow.

"I am sorry to leave you so soon, but my young friend and I propose to have a walk."

With a smile, the earl produced the coveted bit of pasteboard and handed it to the alderman.

CHAPTER XXVI. AN ADVENTURE.

Scott intended to start on his homeward journey the next morning, but an hour before he was to leave he received a telegram to the following effect:

Scott understood at once that the letter would contain instructions from the firm, and therefore informed the earl that he would remain a day longer.

"That will suit me admirably," said the earl. "If you are at leisure, we will take a long drive."

It turned out that the earl wished to ride across the country to a point some twenty miles distant. What the attraction was it is not necessary here to state. Probably the trip was undertaken chiefly for the drive.

At the end of twenty miles a village was reached,[Pg 220] which contained a passable hotel. Here the two tourists dined, and did not leave on their return till about six o'clock.

"We shall be rather late," said the earl. "Still, our horse is a good one, and we ought to reach the hotel in two hours, or little more."

When the travelers had proceeded half a dozen miles on their way, the horse suddenly showed signs of lameness. What had occasioned it neither could tell, but as he appeared to be in pain, it was decided, upon consultation, to stop at the next house and make arrangements to pass the night. It would be easy to start again on the following morning with the horse they had, or, if necessary, a substitute. Neither felt in haste, and the time lost would not be serious.

The next house proved to be situated on the edge of the woods. It occupied a lonely location, and seemed in rather a dilapidated state. Everything about it bore an aspect of neglect.

It was opened, after he had knocked two or three times, by a careworn woman of middle age.[Pg 221] Her face was lined, and she wore a look of depression and discouragement.

"Our horse has fallen lame, and we would like to stop here overnight, and let the horse rest. I see you have a barn."

"I am quite aware of that, and we must apologize for intruding. We shall give you some trouble, but we are willing to pay for it. If five dollars will compensate you we will be glad to pay that sum for supper, lodging and breakfast for ourselves, and accommodation for our horse."

The woman seemed surprised by the liberality of the offer. In such a household five dollars was a good deal of money.

"You can come in," she said, "and I will get you some supper. My man will soon be home, and if he is willing you can stay all night."

"I'll go right to work getting supper. I've got some eggs and bacon in the house, if that will do you."

"That's just as you like. I have tea for myself. My man won't drink it. He says it's only fit for women."

"Consider us women, then," said Scott, laughing. "I will go and tell my friend that you will receive us."

"Mr. Grant," answered Scott, knowing that the earl would not care to have his rank known in such a place. It might have led to extravagant terms for the accommodation rendered, and Scott considered that he had already offered liberal compensation.

"I think so, but we may have to rough it a little. It won't be equal to our hotel."

"Earls, as well as other men, are subject to circumstances, and can rough it, if necessary. Some time I will tell you how I fared in Italy last winter. I confess that my appetite has been sharpened, and I am exceedingly hungry."

"So am I. We are to have bacon and eggs. I hope you have no prejudice against such a dish."

"No, it is a favorite with me. My only apprehension is, that they won't have enough to satisfy me."

In the barn the visitors found stalls for two horses, both of them unoccupied. They unharnessed their horse, or rather Scott did, for the earl, who had always had this work done for him, seemed awkward and inexperienced.

"I can easily understand that you never had to do it. In England, father for a time kept a horse, and I had the care of him."

"Our new acquaintance, Mr. Alderman Burton, would be surprised to see you sitting on a fence rail."

"I shouldn't do it before him. I should keep up my dignity, or he might be shocked."

"Quite correct. As a matter of fact, I don't[Pg 225] think I ever was honored by such an invitation, or, as we consider it, a command."

"He also asked me to inquire of you whether the queen wore her crown at the dinner table."

Half an hour later the woman came to the door, and looking toward them, called out: "Supper's ready."

"And so am I," said the earl, in a low voice. "I hope our hostess has made a liberal provision for us."

On entering the kitchen, where the table was spread, they found she had done so. A dozen eggs, flanked by several slices of bacon, were on a dish in the center, and there was an ample supply of butter and corn bread.

"Thank you, madam, for kindly complying with our request. We appreciate it more because we know you do not keep a hotel."

"I hope you'll like it," replied the woman. "I misremember what the boy said your name was."

"Be you in any business, Mr. Grant?" asked the woman, who began to show curiosity.

"No, madam, not at present. I am an Englishman. Possibly my friend and I might buy out a store in Buffalo."

Scott could scarcely forbear smiling. It seemed a great joke to him to think of going into a business partnership with an earl.

They ate supper with evident enjoyment. They had about concluded it, when a heavy step was heard outside.

CHAPTER XXVII. RED RALPH.

The man who entered was of medium height, thickset, and his hair and beard were red. His face was far from prepossessing.

"Yes, Ralph," answered the woman, rather nervously. "I told them we didn't keep a hotel, but they offered me five dollars to take care of them and the horse till morning."

"I haven't decided yet," replied the earl, who did not choose to take the man into his confidence.

Their host took from a shelf a dirty clay pipe, filled it with tobacco, and began to smoke. The fumes were far from pleasant, and the earl, rising from his chair, signaled to Scott to go outside with him.

"That is safest. You might take your horse and give us the slip. Then we'd be so much out."

"This will settle the question," and the earl took out his wallet, and from a thick roll of bills picked out a five-dollar note, and handed it to the woman.

"Give it here to me, Sarah," said her husband, sharply. "I take charge of the money."

He scrutinized it closely, but the result of his inspection seemed to be favorable, and he put it away in his vest pocket.

Scott noticed that he had regarded the roll of bills with a covetous glance, and he felt that the earl had been imprudent in making such a display of his money.

"It's all right," their host said, slowly. "You're an honest man. You pay your bills."

"It may have been imprudent, but I don't think there is any danger of his attempting to rob me."

"To-morrow we shall leave the house, and we are never likely to meet him again," said the earl, indifferently. "So it is hardly worth thinking about."

They strolled along in a leisurely way, and sat down under a tree, about a mile distant from their home. Under the same tree reclined a young man who looked like a farmer or a farmer's assistant.

"Yes, I am working for my uncle, who owns a farm not far from here. You are a stranger, are you not?"

"Yes, my friend and myself are staying at Niagara. We were taking a long drive, but the horse went lame, and we engaged lodgings for the night about a mile from here."

"I will tell you, and you can perhaps tell me something of the man who occupies it."

The young man listened to the description, and when it was finished shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. You noticed his profusion of red hair. His real name is Moody, I believe, but everybody calls him Red Ralph."

"It is reported that he has been in jail. A[Pg 232] man who saw him there said that he was quite confident he had seen him in a visit to Joliet prison."

"Nothing has been proved against him, but more than one rough-looking man has been seen in his house."

"Decidedly, Scott," said the earl, "we have not been fortunate in our selection of a lodging house. However, it is only for one night."

"I shall do so. Without knowing anything of our worthy host, I had formed an unfavorable opinion of him before I spoke with you."

"What could have been his object in establishing himself here? If he is a rogue, I don't see what opportunities he has of practicing dishonesty."

"Bear in mind that this house is not many miles from the border. If he committed a robbery in[Pg 233] the States, he could easily take refuge in his Canadian home, where he would be safe from arrest."

"If you don't care to remain in his house overnight, I think I could insure you a welcome from my uncle, who lives not far away."

"Thank you, but it would be awkward to make a change at this late hour. Besides, what explanation could we give?"

"I should not mind forfeiting five dollars," said the earl. "There is one thing I should mind more."

"To leave now would be a confession of cowardice. We ought—the two of us—to be a match for Red Ralph."

"Yes, you look like a brave boy." Then, turning to the young man, "I thank you for your kind offer, but I think we will stay with Red Ralph for this one night."

"Let us go back, Scott," said the earl. "It is[Pg 234] not very late, but I feel sleepy, and I think I shall retire early."

It was not quite nine o'clock when they entered the farmhouse. There was a fire of logs in the fireplace, and before it, with his legs stretched out, sat Red Ralph. But he was not alone.

A man of dark complexion sat opposite him. He was tall and swarthy, and, though differing in appearance seemed a fitting companion for Red Ralph. Both had pipes in their mouths, and the room was pervaded by the fumes of bad tobacco.

CHAPTER XXVIII. ON WATCH.

There was nothing especially noticeable about the chamber into which Scott and the earl were ushered. It was a corner apartment, and had two windows on different sides of the room.

There was a double bed, a washstand, a small table, and two chairs, besides a plain pine bureau. There was no carpet on the floor, but beside the bed was a cheap rug.

"When I am at home—yes; but I have knocked about the world so much that I can stand a little discomfort. How is the bed?"

He felt of the mattress, and found that it was of straw. Had there been a feather bed over it there would have been greater comfort.

"Only a straw bed," he said. "This is, certainly, Spartan simplicity. I don't think Red Ralph would be a success as an innkeeper."

"I wonder," said the earl, very thoughtfully, "whether the key has been lost or intentionally removed?"

"No. That would make it evident that we were distrustful. Besides, it may be that the people below are not aware that there is no means of locking them out. On the whole, we will not call attention to our defenseless condition."

While they were talking, a step was heard on the stairs—a heavy step, too heavy for the woman. Then came a knock at the door.

"I have brought you a nightcap," he said. "I had my wife mix some whisky and water. It is good for the stomach. I drink some every night before I go to bed."

He took the pitcher and set it down on the table. Red Ralph lingered a moment, and his eyes wandered about the apartment.

There was nothing to see, however, as the travelers had brought no luggage with them, not expecting to be detained overnight.

"Oh, I never wake from the time I strike the bed. At what hour shall I wake you?"

"By the way, may I trouble you to look after my horse? I meant to go out to the barn before I retired."

"Our friend is unusually attentive," said the earl, with a glance at the pitcher.

He took the pitcher and peered into it attentively, rather to Scott's surprise. Then he poured out a small quantity, and tasted it.

"I hope you will excuse me from drinking, Mr. Grant," said Scott. "I promised my father I would never drink whisky."

"I am quite confident that it is drugged. It has a peculiar taste, and I detect minute particles of some foreign substance which has been mixed with it."

"Not so bad as that. It is only a sleeping potion. Our friend had an object in asking if we slept soundly. He means that we shall."

The earl poured out a glass of the whisky and emptied it out of the window. He filled the glass a second time, and again emptied it.

"That is better than to have swallowed it," he said. "I will leave a small portion in the pitcher to disarm suspicion."

"I think he intends to make us a visit during[Pg 240] the night. As there is no way of locking the door, that will be very easily managed. Had we drunk the whisky, we should have slept so profoundly that Ralph could have ransacked the room without interference.

"Yes; I will consider whether that is best. It interposes only a temporary obstacle. Then Ralph and his companion may be armed, while we are not. The two would be more than a match for us."

"Probably, but though the loss of the money would not seriously embarrass me—it is only five hundred dollars—I decidedly object to being robbed of it. By the way, have you a newspaper with you?"

The earl took the paper, and carefully tore it into strips about the size of a bank bill. Then he removed the bank bills from his wallet, put them in an inside pocket in his vest, and replaced them with strips of newspaper.

"It is a good plan to oppose roguery with artifice," he said. "Possibly this will help to circumvent the enemy."

Scarcely had he done this when Ralph's step was heard on the staircase, and a moment afterward there was a knock at the door.

"Have you drunk the whisky, gentlemen?" he asked. "Would you like to have me fill the pitcher again?"

"We shall not need any more, thank you," said the earl. "Perhaps you will kindly take the pitcher?"

Ralph looked into the pitcher, and his face indicated satisfaction. From the little that remained he felt assured that both his guests had drunk liberally.

"You were very kind to think of us," rejoined the earl, avoiding a reply to his question.

"No, we shall not need any more. I think you said it would make us sleep sound?"

"I think you are right. I can hardly keep my eyes open," and the earl yawned ostentatiously.

"Yes," he said, "I am sure you will have a good night's sleep. I will remember to call you at seven. I won't stay any longer, for you must wish to retire."

"We will lie on the bed, but it will be better not to undress. We must be prepared for any contingency."

"No. We will try to keep awake for an hour. My opinion is that our friend will make us a visit within that time."

CHAPTER XXIX. A PLOT FOILED.

Though the two travelers had not removed their clothes, they covered themselves up with the quilt, in order to deceive anyone entering the room. Then they lay and waited.

It was perhaps ten minutes less than the hour when they heard the door softly opened. In the half light they saw Red Ralph enter. He had removed his shoes, and was walking in his stocking feet.

Ralph saw it, and at once began to search the pockets. He only glanced carelessly at the bed, for he felt sure that the potion had done its work, and that both his guests were asleep.

In the side pocket he found the wallet. He uttered an ejaculation of satisfaction, and quickly transferred it to his own pocket.

He could not very well examine it in the [Pg 244]darkness. But he could tell from the feeling that it was well filled, and naturally concluded that the contents represented a large sum of money.

Having got what he wanted, he withdrew as quietly as he came, carefully shutting the door behind him.

"What will he do when he discovers that the wallet is stuffed with waste paper?"

"If he does, and complains of the deception, it will involve a confession that he is a thief. I confess I don't know what to anticipate."

Scott and the earl listened in excitement. They could not forecast the next act in the drama.

The steps paused before the door, but the door was not opened. In place of this they heard a key turn in the lock outside. It was clear that they were locked in.

"I shall go to sleep. I think we are secure from any other visit. Hostilities are probably deferred till morning. What will be done then I am quite at a loss to understand, but when that time comes we can decide what to do."

When Red Ralph went downstairs after purloining the wallet, it was with a feeling of satisfaction at the apparent success of his dishonest scheme.

"I don't like such doings," said his wife, wearily. "Heaven will never prosper dishonesty."

"Shut up, Sarah," commanded Ralph, harshly. "I can't stand a sniveling woman. What I have done is my business, not yours."

Ralph seated himself in the chair which he had vacated before he went upstairs, and, with a smile, opened the wallet.

But the smile quickly faded from his face, and it grew dark with anger, as the contents were disclosed.

"It means that we have been fooled—tricked! They have filled the wallet with this trash, in order to deceive us."

"Sure? Why, I saw it with my own eyes. Didn't you, Sarah? Didn't the man pull out a thick roll of bills when he paid the five dollars he agreed upon?"

"There was no mistake about that. The money was real, fast enough. There must have been two or three hundred dollars."

"Be careful, Conrad! I don't allow any man to insult me," said Ralph, with lowering brow.

"Probably it is, but it is concealed. I can't get at it without waking them up."

"I don't know whether they did drink it or not. They pretended to, but if they suspected me, they may have emptied it out of the window."

"I will lock them in. I will see, at any rate, that they don't escape from the room. In the morning I will consider what is best to be done."

The woman breathed a sigh of relief. She was honest at heart, and felt no sympathy with her outlaw husband.

It was perhaps by way of consoling themselves[Pg 248] for their disappointment that the two men resumed their drinking, and drank heavily.

"Go and get some more whisky, Sarah," said Ralph, for the pitcher was about empty.

The woman did so, but an idea had occurred to her. She was resolved to prevent the robbery of her guests, and to afford them a chance to escape.

She turned the tables upon her husband, and dropped into the whisky some of the same sleeping potion which had been intended for the two travelers.

Red Ralph and his accomplice were too much affected already to notice any peculiar taste in the whisky. They drank deep, getting more and more drowsy, until at last Ralph slipped from his chair to the floor, where he lay without sense or motion.

"Good-night, old fellow!" hiccoughed Conrad. "I'm with you," and he was soon lying beside his friend.

"Ought I to have done it?" she asked herself. "But there was no other way. I have perhaps saved my husband from prison, for the theft would surely have been found out. The man looked strong and resolute, and would not have[Pg 249] allowed himself to be robbed without seeking to punish the robber."

"They won't wake till late," she reflected, "and I can let the travelers lie till morning. I won't deprive them of their night's rest."

She went upstairs and saw the key in the lock. "I guess I will leave it there," she said, "till morning."

About five o'clock—her usual time for rising—she dressed and went upstairs. She unlocked the door, and knocked loudly upon it.

"You must get up at once," she said, "you and your friend. It is not safe to remain here."

"He is sound asleep, and won't wake for hours.[Pg 250] But you had better get up now, and avoid difficulty."

"Are you not exposing yourself to danger on our account?" he asked, earnestly, of the woman.

"No, I shall know how to manage, but go now. It is morning, and the sooner you get away the better."

"Yes, there will be no difficulty. Make as little noise as possible coming downstairs. My husband might awake."

"Madam," said the earl, "we are much indebted to you. Take this as an acknowledgment," and he tendered her a ten-dollar bill.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Should my husband discover that I had money he would suspect that I had let you out. Then I should be in danger."

They were already dressed, and followed the woman downstairs. They saw Ralph and his friend lying like logs on the floor, and suspected[Pg 251] why they slept so soundly. Both were snoring loudly.

With a sensation of disgust they left the house, and led the horse out of the barn. He seemed to be much better of his lameness, so that he was able to travel, though slowly. They reached Niagara in time for breakfast.

CHAPTER XXX. RED RALPH'S SURPRISE.

Red Ralph and his companion slept soundly till after nine o'clock. The drug was only of moderate strength, or they would have slept longer.

When Ralph opened his eyes he saw the breakfast table spread, and his wife moving about the room. He looked around him half dazed.

"I must have their money. I may as well take Conrad with me. Here, Conrad, wake up!" and he shook his companion with no gentle hand.

"You took too much whisky and got stupid drunk," said Ralph, not mentioning that he, too, had been in the same box. "Is breakfast ready, Sarah?"

"No. That will do afterward. If I get their money, you may give them some breakfast, too."

The woman spoke calmly, but she was inwardly excited. She knew that her husband would be enraged when he learned that the prisoners had escaped, but she hoped that her agency in the matter would not be suspected.

He turned the key, and opened the door of the chamber. What he expected to see was the two travelers in a profound slumber. What he did see was the bed disarranged and the chamber empty.

This was a piece of strategy on the part of his wife. After the departure of Scott and the earl,[Pg 255] she had removed the bed cord, and fastened it to the window to mislead her husband into supposing that it was in this way their guests had escaped.

"What I can't understand is how a man of good weight could have been held up by such a slender cord. And it doesn't seem to be stretched at all."

Conrad was a man who inclined to be venturesome. He got out of the window, and tried to lower himself by the rope. The slender cord broke, and he fell and lay an inglorious heap on the greensward below.

"Conrad," called out Ralph, with a sudden thought, "go out to the barn, and see if they have taken the horse."

"Then I've been taken in, and done for. What beats me is, how did they suspect anything?"

"That's true. I should like to know how long they have been gone. I wonder you didn't hear the horse."

"Well, there's no use in crying over spilt milk,"[Pg 257] said Ralph, philosophically. "At any rate we've got the five dollars."

He seemed amused by the thought that their guests had, after all, been overreached, and this contributed to restore his good humor.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. Her stratagem had been successful, and there was no suspicion entertained by her husband that she had assisted the two to escape. Had he suspected it, she shuddered to think what would have happened.

When Scott and the earl reached the hotel at Niagara, they went up to their room to finish out a night's rest, their slumber at the farmhouse having been interrupted.

Meanwhile there had been an arrival at the hotel of two characters well known to the reader.

Two days previously, Ezra Little suddenly determined to go to Buffalo. By the failure of a large firm in that city a considerable stock of goods[Pg 258] had been thrown on the market. It was almost certain that the stock would be sold out for much less than its real value.

Ezra Little, among others, had received a notice from the assignee of the approaching sale. The goods were, many of them, in his line, and in several departments his own stock was getting short.

"I think, Mr. Allen," he said to his superintendent, "I shall run on to Buffalo, and examine the stock of Frost, Burks & Co., and if it is a sacrifice sale I shall probably make considerable purchases."

"It will be an excellent plan, I think, Mr. Little. We are running short in several departments. Besides, it will be a pleasant trip for you."

"That is true; I haven't been fifty miles from the city for three years. Three years since, I went to Philadelphia, and ever since then I have tied myself down to business."

When Ezra Little announced at home that he was going to Buffalo, the news made a sensation.

"No doubt, but the expense will be too great. The car fare and hotel rates will amount to considerable."

"But, pa, as you were just saying, you will probably clear more than a thousand dollars by the purchase you propose to make."

"You had better take Loammi, Ezra," she said. "It will be a pleasure to him, and if you are sick he can take care of you."

"Well, Loammi," said his father, with unwonted good humor, "I think I will let you go. But you must be ready at six o'clock this evening."

CHAPTER XXXI. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

Loammi and his father arrived late in the evening at Niagara, and put up at the International Hotel. Had they looked back in the book of arrivals they would have seen the name of Scott Walton, but they failed to do so.

As they sped over the Central Railroad, Loammi was in high spirits. It was his first long journey and he felt somehow that it would increase his consequence. He was prepared to make much of it on his return, and he felt that his friends and schoolfellows would be impressed.

The International Hotel seemed to him quite grand, and as he had never been a guest at a hotel before, he quite enjoyed his new way of living.

"It is fine enough," responded his father, practically, "but it costs money, Loammi; I expect[Pg 262] they'll be charging me four or five dollars a day."

"That may be, but I am afraid it is money thrown away to pay your expenses on such a trip. It would have been better to pay you ten dollars, and let you stay at home."

"I wouldn't have been willing to do it, pa. Wouldn't Scott like to be traveling as we are doing?"

"I think the boy has some business talent," his father remarked, who was not so much prejudiced as his son.

"Oh, I suppose he'd pass, but he couldn't hold a place. He had to leave you and now he's left Tower, Douglas & Co."

This was not quite correct, as it was Loammi who had designated his cousin in that way.

While they were waiting for breakfast, a [Pg 263]traveling acquaintance from Boston, a Mr. Norwood, greeted them.

"I hope we shall meet him, pa," said Loammi. "It would be quite a feather in our cap if we could get introduced to him."

"I should like that myself, Loammi. Do you know if he is a young man, or an old one, Mr. Norwood?"

When they took their seats at the table, Mr. Little said to the waiter: "I hear there's an earl staying at the hotel?"

"I don't rightly know. There's a boy goes round with him a good deal—about the age of this young gentleman."

"I will try to get acquainted with him, pa," said Loammi. "I guess that'll be the easiest way to get in with the earl."

The breakfast proceeded and was nearly over for Loammi and his father, when the waiter came up.

Both father and son looked toward the earl with eager curiosity. They did not at first take special notice of the boy. When they did, Loammi grasped his father's arm in excitement.

"Nonsense, pa, it can't be!" said Loammi. "It's ridiculous to think of Scott being in company with an earl."

"Perhaps they are not together," said Loammi, who did not like to believe that his humble cousin was in such aristocratic company. "Is that the[Pg 265] boy that usually goes around with the earl?" he asked, turning to the waiter.

"I never heard of such a thing," gasped Loammi. "That boy's cheek seems too great for anything. But perhaps he is the earl's valet, though I don't know how he could have got the position."

"I don't know but he's the earl's brother," said the waiter. "Anyhow, they're pretty thick. They went out riding together yesterday afternoon."

"He isn't the earl's brother," said Loammi, emphatically. "He's a—a relative of ours."

"I never was so astonished in my life, pa," said Loammi, when the waiter had left them.

Mr. Little and his son lingered at the table till they saw the earl and his young companion rise. Then they followed them out.

Scott had not noticed the presence of Loammi and his father, but it was soon made evident to him.

As he was walking with the earl, suddenly he felt a tap on his arm, and looking round espied Loammi.

"I can't say they are friends, but they are my cousins. I have told you of them. They are my cousin, Loammi Little, and his father."

"My lord," said Scott, formally, "let me present to you Mr. Ezra Little and his son, Loammi. They are relatives of mine."

"I am glad to meet any relative of my young friend, Mr. Walton," said the earl, with dignity.

"My lord earl," said Mr. Little, with a profound bow, "I am indeed honored in making your acquaintance."

"Yes," said Scott, "but I have nearly forgotten it. I intend to be an American citizen."

"I will meet you in half an hour, Scott," said the earl, familiarly. "You will find me in the reading room."

"I expected to leave this morning, but I have a letter from my employers with instructions that will detain me here a day or two longer. But how do you and Loammi happen to be here?"

As Scott walked away, Loammi said, enviously: "Did you notice how well Scott was dressed?"

"He doesn't look much like the poor relation we took in some months ago. But it won't last."

CHAPTER XXXII. A LARGE OPERATION.

Scott went to Buffalo in the same train as Ezra Little, but in a different car, so that the latter did not know his humble cousin was on board. The earl went along, and proposed to look about the city while his young companion was engaged.

Scott took a cab, feeling that the emergency justified it, while Ezra Little waited a considerable time for a horse car. The result was that Scott[Pg 271] was with the assignee twenty minutes before Mr. Little arrived.

When Scott was introduced, the assignee, a gentleman named Clark, regarded him impatiently.

"I am a boy," replied Scott, quietly, "but I represent the firm of Tower, Douglas & Co., of New York. There is my card."

"You can rely upon it. What could be my object in making a false representation?"

"That depends on the terms I obtain. I may take your whole stock if there's sufficient inducement."

Scott looked it carefully over. He was offered even better terms than his employers had stipulated for.

At the end of half an hour he had agreed to purchase the entire stock, conditioned upon the amount and quality of goods being as represented. He knew enough of the value of goods to feel that he had made a good bargain for the firm.

But he had to wait half an hour. Then, on entering the office, he found to his surprise Scott ahead of him. He nodded to him coolly, and in a tone of some importance said: "Mr. Clark, I have come to look over your stock, and if I find it and your terms satisfactory I may make considerable purchases."

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Little," said the assignee, referring to the card in his hand, "but you are too late."

"That is a mistake," said Ezra, indignantly. "He is an impostor. He was employed by them, but has been discharged."

"Simply that it is false," returned Scott. "If you have any doubts as to my being in the employ of the firm, you can look at this letter received this morning."

"Mr. Little, you appear to be mistaken," he said, severely. "What can be your object in [Pg 274]trying to discredit Mr. Walton, I will not inquire, though I can guess at it. If you wish to negotiate for any of the stock I refer you to him. He obtained it on such terms that he can afford to deal with you liberally."

This was gall and wormwood to Mr. Little, but he wished to make his journey pay, and broached the subject to Scott.

When Mr. Little made an examination of prices, he ascertained that even on these terms he would make a better bargain than he anticipated. The result was that he bought five thousand dollars' worth of goods from Scott, and felt sure that even then he would clear more than a thousand dollars on his purchases.

"Of course, Mr. Little," said Scott, "the sale must be ratified by my firm. I will, however, make a special request to that effect, and I don't anticipate that they will interfere with my arrangements."

"No; I must wire the firm of what I have done. Then I have agreed to meet the earl at the Mansion House, where we shall dine."

"Good-by, Scott. If you leave your present employer at any time I will give you five dollars a week and your board."

He was not conceited, but it struck him that one who had been intrusted with such a responsible commission was worth considerably more than this small sum.

"How have you succeeded, Scott?" asked the earl, when they met at the Mansion House.

"I'm sorry I can't go with you. I shall start in three days, and when I take up my residence in New York it will be at the Windsor Hotel. Will you call and see me there?"

Some time during the next day Scott reached New York. He lost no time in calling at the store, and reported his business operations in detail.

"Scott," said Mr. Tower, "you have quite surpassed my expectations. I own I had some hesitation about intrusting you with the Buffalo business, but you have managed it to my satisfaction."

"I will ratify it," said Mr. Tower, "and the five per cent. shall be your commission."

"Thank you, Mr. Tower. You are very liberal. Two hundred and fifty dollars will make me feel rich."

"We will pay you five hundred dollars besides for your general services during the six weeks you have been absent, and your salary will be raised to forty dollars a week."

"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Tower. It is only fair to tell you that I have an offer from another firm."

"Ezra Little. He offered me five dollars a week and my board, in case I ever leave you."

CHAPTER XXXIII. SCOTT GETS INTO SOCIETY.

Scott lost no time in responding to the invitation. He was greeted with the greatest cordiality.

"I am delighted to see you," said the earl. "I missed you more than I anticipated after you left me. Now I have a favor to ask."

"I have taken a suite of rooms here, and I have set aside a bedroom for you. I shall be in the city for four weeks, and I want you with me."

"No; I don't forget it. I respect you more for it. In fact, Scott, I want your company. Will you come?"

He brought a dinner invitation from a well-known social club. The earl good-naturedly accepted.

"You are in for it, Scott," he said. "I advise you to order a dress suit at once, if you are not provided with one."

"Won't the club think they are imposed upon when they find that I am only a humble business boy?"

"Then, Mr. Grant, I will throw the whole responsibility upon you," said Scott, smiling.

"True. Then you shall be plain Mr. Walton. Mind that you get a handsome suit. It will be expected, as you belong to my party."

One of the leading New York dailies, a few days later, in describing the dinner, after giving the earl's modest little speech, continued thus: "The earl was accompanied by a handsome young gentleman, Mr. Scott Walton, who is understood to be a near relative. Mr. Walton was called upon for a speech, but modestly declined."

"Humbug or not, he has got into the best society and his success reflects credit upon us, his cousins."

"I don't believe it. I feel sure Scott put him up to it. I'd like to tell him it is all a mistake."

"I won't allow you to do anything of the sort. As the matter stands, it may lead to the supposition that we also are related to the earl."

When one of his business acquaintances inquired whether Scott was really a connection of the earl's, he answered: "He is related to me, and there may also be a distant relationship to the earl. Probably the earl authorized the statement."

"I am glad," he said, "that I have been the means of so cordially uniting your cousin and yourself. Of course, I know that I am only invited as your friend."

"But as to accepting the invitation," continued the earl, "I am afraid I cannot. Should I accept Mr. Little's invitation, I should be overwhelmed by similar invitations from other parties."

"I can partially make it up to him. I will secure a box at one of the theatres for some evening next week, and invite your uncle's family to join our party. That will involve no embarrassment."

"Then I will make out an invitation which I will send by you. I will also invite Mr. Tower, your senior employer, as it may help you with him."

When Scott called at his uncle's house, Ezra inquired, eagerly: "Did you receive my note?"

"He would be glad to do so, but it would bring upon him so many others that it would prove embarrassing."

"Can't you influence him to accept?" he asked, with a degree of deference that was new to Scott.

"Tell the earl I shall be delighted, and so will Mrs. Little and Loammi," said the gratified merchant.

Scott did so, and succeeded in toning down the exuberant terms in which Mr. Little was at first inclined to couch his acceptance.

Mr. Tower, though a more sensible man, was[Pg 285] undeniably flattered by the invitation which Scott brought him. The earl had called at the store, so that the invitation was en règle.

"Really, Scott," he said, "I shall feel obliged to raise your pay, since, in addition to your services here, you are introducing me into such distinguished society."

"And you are really the guest of the earl at the Windsor Hotel? It is most extraordinary."

Mr. Little sent for reporters on two of the daily papers, and managed to have his presence in the earl's box prominently mentioned. Loammi was immensely gratified, and contrived to make himself conspicuous, while Scott modestly withdrew into the background.

Seth Lawton happened to reach New York on the morning following the theatre party. He read in amazement the paragraph which served to indicate the intimacy of his relatives with the earl.

Mr. Lawton himself was modest, and was considerably surprised when Scott brought him a cordial invitation to dine at the Windsor with the earl.

"I don't know, Scott," he said. "I am an old-fashioned fellow. I am not used to stylish company."

Scott was right. The Earl of Windermere could see the sterling gold in Cousin Seth's character, and treated him with a cordiality that pleased the old man.

"I never thought I should like an earl," he said afterward to Scott, "but your friend is a trump. He ought to be an American citizen."

Ezra Little was rather disgusted when he heard that Seth Lawton had been the earl's guest.

"You ought to have prevented it, Scott," he said. "What will the earl think of us when such a homely old fellow is introduced as a cousin?"

"Humph! I suppose he felt obliged to be polite to him. Seth is a mere clodhopper."

He would have been surprised to learn that the earl rated the "clodhopper" higher than himself.

CHAPTER XXXIV. MR. BABCOCK'S INVENTION.

From this time forth Ezra Little began to pay more attention to his poor relation. Scott's social and business success had surprised him. He was compelled, though reluctantly, to consider him a young man of promise.

He had no idea, however, how successful Scott was, and would have been very much amazed to learn the extent of his income.

One result, however, was to excite the jealousy of Loammi. He found that Scott dressed better than himself and had more command of money. Accordingly, he applied to his father for an increased allowance.

"What do you want more money for, Loammi?" asked his father, in a tone far from encouraging. "Don't you get a dollar a week?"

"I have some money," admitted Mr. Little, cautiously, "but it is only by great care that I am moderately well off."

"He is very foolish to spend all his spare money on clothes. By the time he is twenty-one he won't have a cent laid up."

"At any rate, he has plenty of cash now. The fact is, pa, people are beginning to notice that he dresses better than I. Percy Shelton was walking with me the other day when we met Scott. 'I thought your cousin was poor,' he said. 'He only has his wages to depend upon,' I said. 'Then he must be pretty well paid,' he replied. 'I saw him at Patti's concert Tuesday night, occupying a three-dollar seat.' That made me feel awfully mean, for you wouldn't let me go to hear Patti."

"All the fashionable people go. People that know you are rich think it strange not to see me there."

This argument had some effect on Mr. Little,[Pg 289] who was anxious that his son should be admitted into fashionable society, but was too close to supply him with the necessary means.

"Well, you won't," said his father, sharply. "You must think that I am made of money."

"You won't get that either. I will give you two dollars a week, and that ought to be enough to satisfy you."

Loammi was not satisfied, but did not think it prudent to say any more just then.

There was one more concert by Patti, and he had hoped to attend. Indeed, he had told Percy that he expected to do so. He might, indeed, have bought a dollar ticket, but he was ashamed to be seen occupying a cheap seat.

Loammi had not much taste for music, and cared chiefly to attend the concert because most of his fashionable friends would be there.

He met Scott one evening near the Fifth Avenue Hotel. His poor cousin was handsomely dressed,[Pg 290] and looked to be on good terms with the world, as indeed he was.

"I want to go ever so much; but pa, though he is rolling in wealth, keeps me very close. How much do you think I get for my weekly allowance?"

Scott smiled. He did not feel quite certain about that, but forbore to remind Loammi of certain recent experiences.

"That was very kind of you," said Percy, who naturally concluded that Scott went by Loammi's invitation.

But Scott preferred to keep this to himself. He knew that if Loammi were told, he would have frequent occasion to borrow, and he felt that it would be prudent in him to lay by a portion of his earnings.

It will be remembered that his friend, Justin Wood, had bought for him an interest in the invention of Mr. Babcock, advancing the inventor a sum of money, which put him on his feet.

Scott had not forgotten this, but forbore to look up Mr. Babcock, not having quite so much confidence in his success as the inventor himself.

One evening, however, as he was preparing to go out to walk, he met Babcock coming upstairs.

"I see you do not attach much importance to it. You have not considered what your profits will amount to."

"No, Mr. Babcock, I have not thought of that at all. I only hoped that it would give you a fair living."

"It will do more. In fact, I have come to see you on business to-night. The parties who are manufacturing my window fastener have made me an offer for it. As you hold a one-third interest, I cannot accept without consulting you."

Scott thought the sum might be a thousand dollars, and was very much surprised when the inventor answered: "Fifteen thousand dollars!"

"I thought you would be surprised. But it is true. That would give you five thousand dollars."

"I want to consult your interest in the matter, Mr. Babcock. This would give you ten thousand dollars, to be sure, but it would throw you out of work."

"No. They engage me as superintendent of the manufactory at a salary of a hundred dollars per month."

"I shall be occupied, but I am sure my employers will give me leave of absence when I tell them the cause. But I don't think I ought to receive so large a sum as five thousand dollars. It was you who made the discovery."

"True, but I never should have reaped any benefit from it if you had not introduced me to your friend, Mr. Wood."

The next day the sale was made, and Scott found[Pg 295] himself enriched by five thousand dollars. It seemed to him almost like a dream, from which he was afraid that he might awake.

"What would Mr. Little say if he knew?" thought Scott. "He did me a great favor when he discharged me from his store under a cloud."

CHAPTER XXXV. THE SEALED PACKET.

One day, in looking over his trunk, Scott's eye fell on the sealed packet, referred to at the opening of this story, which was inscribed:

Scott had been so busy that he had given little thought to this packet. Now his interest was excited, and the next day he broke the seal, and read the letter which it contained.

There was something more, but this was the substance of the letter. It was sufficient to interest Scott greatly.

"I wish I could find my father's friend," he reflected. "Though but a year has passed, I am amply able to pay the debt which my poor father owed. It would be pleasant, besides, to see one of his friends."

Naturally, Scott's first reference was to the New York directory. He found numerous Kents, but none that seemed likely to be Robert Kent. There was no artist of that name included in the list.

He thought of advertising, but this would involve a greater degree of publicity than he desired, and might lead to attempted imposture.

A month passed, and Scott was as perplexed as ever. To seek for any particular man in a crowded city like New York was like seeking a needle in a haystack. Besides, he might have left New York and gone to some other city, perhaps to the West.

Yet the man of whom he was in search was, at that very moment, occupying a shabby lodging on Bleecker Street, with his wife and two children. Moreover, his son, a boy a few months younger than Scott, was employed by Ezra Little, in his[Pg 299] Eighth Avenue store, at a salary of three dollars a week.

The apartments consisted of three rooms, after the usual fashion of New York tenements. In the one large room, sitting in a big rocking-chair, was a man of middle age, with an expression of pain upon his delicate and refined features. He had been for some time the victim of a rheumatic affection which at times prevented him from working.

At half-past six the door opened, and a slender, dark-haired boy entered the room.

"How do you feel, father?" asked the boy, with a glance of sympathy toward his suffering parent.

"No better, Harold. It is very trying to be tied hand and foot by pain when I ought to be at work."

"If your father would worry less," said Mrs. Kent, a pleasant-looking woman, somewhat younger than her husband, "he would be more likely to get well."

"How can I help worrying, Clara? We are barely able to live when I can work. Now, with only Harold's wages coming in, it is difficult to tell how we shall come out. Did you ask Mr. Little if he would raise you, Harold?"

"Yes, father; but he only shook his head, and told me he could get plenty of boys at the wages he paid me, and perhaps for less."

"Yet he is rich," said Mr. Kent, bitterly. "He and his can live on the fat of the land."

"He is the most disagreeable boy I ever met. When he comes to the store he struts through it as if he were a prince."

"If I were rich now, I would only be too glad to help those who were less fortunate than myself. I had one friend in England, an artist, like myself, John Walton, who would have done the same. I wish he were in Ezra Little's place."

"Then he may be in New York. I have heard that there was a boy named Scott Walton in the store a year since."

"No. I understand that he and Loammi could not get along together, and he was discharged. But I was told that his father was dead."

"Poor Walton! I am sorry to hear it. It seems to me that it is those who best deserve to live who are summoned first."

"Harold," said his mother, "will you go to the grocery at the corner and get a quarter of a pound of tea and half a pound of butter?"

"Ask Mr. Muller to trust us till Saturday night, when you get your week's salary."

The grocery store was kept by a stout, good natured German named Muller. It was a small place, but Herr Muller did a thriving trade.

"I have been thinking I might get him to paint me. In a month, my wife and I will be twenty-five years married. That is what they call a silver wedding. Gretchen wants to have my portrait to show our friends on that occasion."

Harold carried home the welcome intelligence to his father. It made Mr. Kent somewhat more cheerful.

Ten dollars would help him not a little, though the time had been when he received seventy-five dollars for a portrait no better than he produced now for ten.

"I am afraid your father will only worry the more if he finds that he is not soon in a condition to work."

"I should only be too glad if I could get all the work I could do at that price."

The new order somewhat cheered the poor artist. Once, in his early days, he was ambitious, and hoped for a reputation; but long since his ambitions had faded, and he was content and glad to work for a bare livelihood.

Even now, he would not have succeeded but for the small help his son was able to give him. Three dollars a week in many an unfortunate household in the metropolis plays an important part in the finances of a poor family.

But a new trial was in store for the Kent family. The next day, just before the store closed, Loammi visited it.

He wanted to ask a favor of his father, and as he walked through the store he looked about him with the air of a prince of the blood royal. It happened that as he passed along he managed to drop his handkerchief. Instead of picking it up himself, he signaled to Harold Kent to do it.

"That is not what I am hired to do," retorted Harold, indignant at the other's tone.

When, on Saturday night, Harold was paid his weekly wages he was told that he need not report for duty on Monday morning.

It was too late to appeal to the superintendent, and Harold left the store, grief-stricken and discouraged.

CHAPTER XXXVI. A TIMELY HELPER.

Walking along Eighth Avenue, Scott Walton saw a boy coming out of Ezra Little's store with sad face and eyes red as with weeping. The boy was poorly dressed, and Scott's experience of poverty had been so recent that he felt quick sympathy.

"You!" exclaimed Harold, in surprise, for he noticed that Scott was handsomely dressed.

"I have some influence with the firm of Tower, Douglas & Co. I think they will take you on at my request. But where do you live, and what is your name?"

"My name is Scott Walton. Our fathers were friends, and I will be your father's friend."

"I have heard my father speak of your family. He will be delighted to see you—and is your father living?"

"Yes, very poor. My father is an artist, but he has very little to do. Lately he has taken to portrait painting, but he only gets ten dollars for a portrait. Now he is sick with rheumatism and cannot work."

"Cheer up, Harold! Better times are in store for you. I am prosperous, and my father commissioned me to seek you out and help you."

Scott followed Harold up into the poor apartment occupied by his father. As he entered the room, Mr. Kent looked in surprise at his companion. "Is this one of your fellow clerks, Harold?" he asked.

"No, father. I have been discharged from Mr. Little's store, and I have no fellow clerks."

"Then we have no income," he said, sadly. "It only needed this blow. Why were you discharged?"

"It was on account of Loammi Little, but don't[Pg 308] be troubled, father. I am to have a better place, at five dollars a week."

"Yes; I have been looking for you for a month. This evening fortune threw your son in my way. He tells me that you have been unfortunate."

"Ezra Little took me into his store, and after a few week discharged me, as a result of Loammi's meanness and falsehood. I met with other friends, secured another situation, and I am able to help you, Mr. Kent. I want you to find better rooms."

"Take this," he said, "and when you have moved I will see what more I can do for you."

"Gladly, if you will call me Scott. I want to ask Mr. Kent about his early acquaintance with my poor father."

The evening was spent in social chat, and it was ten o'clock before Scott left his new friends.

"I shall expect to see you on Monday morning at the store, Harold," he said, as he went away.

CHAPTER XXXVII. CONCLUSION.

"Hi, you boy!" he said, with malicious pleasure; "you lost your place at my father's store, didn't you?"

"Then he had better mind his own business. My father may get him discharged from his place there."

A really mean person can receive no heavier blow than to find his malicious attempt to injure another of no avail. This was the case with Loammi.

When he was forced to believe that Scott really received the high salary he had contemptuously scoffed at, he became more discontented than ever. He tried to get his father to increase his allowance, but without success. He was mortified to find that even Harold vied with him in dress.

"How these beggarly upstarts are coming up!" he said to himself, bitterly. "It makes me sick."

But a heavier blow was in store for him. Dull times came in business, retail trade fell off, and one[Pg 312] morning it was announced in the papers that the great house of Ezra Little had suspended.

Mr. Little made desperate efforts to secure financial assistance, but in vain. No one liked him, and it looked as if he was irretrievably ruined.

When things looked darkest, a plain-looking old man entered the store, and asked to see Mr. Little.

"You help me!" repeated Ezra, scornfully. "What good will a few hundred dollars do?"

"With forty thousand dollars I could weather the storm handsomely," replied Mr. Little.

"It isn't the only mistake you have made, Cousin Ezra. At the time you looked down upon me I was richer than yourself. But I will only help you on conditions."

"I will agree to any conditions," said Ezra, his pride humbled. "Only help me out of my present trouble."

So the house of Ezra Little was saved, and its head received a lesson. His pride had had a fall. Those whom he looked down upon proved to surpass him in the only thing on which he prided himself—the possession of money.

One of Cousin Seth's conditions was that Loammi should go into his father's store, and exchange his elegant leisure for honest work. He complained a good deal, but Seth Lawton and his father insisted. He may in time become a useful, hard-working man of business, but he has a good deal to learn first.

Scott continues to prosper, and next year will become a partner in the firm of Tower, Douglas & Co. Harold is earning a good salary now, and his father's troubles are over. He gets more remunerative work at his profession, and, with his family, occupies a pleasant home in Bayonne.

Mr. Lawton has leased a handsome house uptown, and Scott lives with him. He is rich—how rich no one knows—and Scott is generally supposed to be his heir.

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Joe's Luck: A Boy's Adventures in California. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

The story is chock fell of stirring incidents, while the amusing situations are furnished by Joshua Bickford, from Pumpkin Hollow, and the fellow who modestly styles himself the "Rip-tail Roarer, from Pike Co., Missouri." Mr. Alger never writes a poor book, and "Joe's Luck" is certainly one of his best.

Tom the Bootblack; or, The Road to Success. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the Bootblack. He was not at all ashamed of his humble calling, though always on the lookout to better himself. The lad started for Cincinnati to look up his heritage. Mr. Grey, the uncle, did not hesitate to employ a ruffian to kill the lad. The plan failed, and Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a comfortable fortune. This is one of Mr. Alger's best stories.

Dan the Newsboy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

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Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, is under the control of Rudolph Rugg, a thorough rascal. After much abuse Tony runs away and gets a job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a large estate. Rudolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throws him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided for him, and by a brave act, a rich friend secures his rights and Tony is prosperous. A very entertaining book.

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Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village to seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an important mission to California. Some of his adventures in the far west are so startling that the reader will scarcely close the book until the last page shall have been reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style.

Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely determines to make a living for himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York he obtains a situation as cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a service to a wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter helps the lad to gain success and fortune.

Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Tom Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, unselfish boy. He supports his mother and sister on meagre wages earned as a shoe-pegger in John Simpson's factory. Tom is discharged from the factory and starts overland for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told in a way which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word in so many homes.

Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother and sister by selling books and papers on the Chicago and Milwaukee Railroad. He detects a young man in the act of picking the pocket of a young lady. In a railway accident many passengers are killed, but Paul is fortunate enough to assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude takes him into his employ. Paul succeeds with tact and judgment and is well started on the road to business prominence.

Mark Mason's Victory. The Trials and Triumphs of a Telegraph Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Mark Mason, the telegraph boy, was a sturdy, honest lad, who pluckily won his way to success by his honest manly efforts under many difficulties. This story will please the very large class of boys who regard Mr. Alger as a favorite author.

A Debt of Honor. The Story of Gerald Lane's Success in the Far West. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

The story of Gerald Lane and the account of the many trials and disappointments which he passed through before he attained success, will interest all boys who have read the previous stories of this delightful author.

Ben Bruce. Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newsboy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Ben Bruce was a brave, manly, generous boy. The story of his efforts, and many seeming failures and disappointments, and his final success, are most interesting to all readers. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style.

The Castaways; or, On the Florida Reefs. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This tale smacks of the salt sea. From the moment that the Sea Queen leaves lower New York bay till the breeze leaves her becalmed off the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of the wind through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she heels to the leeward. The adventures of Ben Clark, the hero of the story and Jake the cook, cannot fail to charm the reader. As a writer for young people Mr. Otis is a prime favorite.

Wrecked on Spider Island; or, How Ned Rogers Found the Treasure. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Ned Rogers, a "down-east" plucky lad ships as cabin boy to earn a livelihood. Ned is marooned on Spider Island, and while there discovers a wreck submerged in the sand, and finds a considerable amount of treasure. The capture of the treasure and the incidents of the voyage serve to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most captious boy could desire.

The Search for the Silver City: A Tale of Adventure in Yucatan. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Two lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam yacht Day Dream for a cruise to the tropics. The yacht is destroyed by fire, and then the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They hear of the wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians, and with the help of a faithful Indian ally carry off a number of the golden images from the temples. Pursued with relentless vigor at last their escape is effected in an astonishing manner. The story is so full of exciting incidents that the reader is quite carried away with the novelty and realism of the narrative.

A Runaway Brig; or, An Accidental Cruise. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

This is a sea tale, and the reader can look out upon the wide shimmering sea as it flashes back the sunlight, and imagine himself afloat with Harry Vandyne, Walter Morse, Jim Libby and that old shell-back, Bob Brace, on the brig Bonita. The boys discover a mysterious document which enables them to find a buried treasure. They are stranded on an island and at last are rescued with the treasure. The boys are sure to be fascinated with this entertaining story.

The Treasure Finders: A Boy's Adventures in Nicaragua. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.

Roy and Dean Coloney, with their guide Tongla, leave their father's indigo plantation to visit the wonderful ruins of an ancient city. The boys eagerly explore the temples of an extinct race and discover three golden images cunningly hidden away. They escape with the greatest difficulty. Eventually they reach safety with their golden prizes. We doubt if there ever was written a more entertaining story than "The Treasure Finders."

Jack, the Hunchback. A Story of the Coast of Maine. By James Otis. Price $1.00.

This is the story of a little hunchback who lived on Cape Elizabeth, on the coast of Maine. His trials and successes are most interesting. From first to last nothing stays the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream whose current varies in direction, but never loses its force.

With Washington at Monmouth: A Story of Three Philadelphia Boys. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Three Philadelphia lads assist the American spies and make regular and frequent visits to Valley Forge in the Winter while the British occupied the city. The story abounds with pictures of Colonial life skillfully drawn, and the glimpses of Washington's soldiers which are given shown that the work has not been hastily done, or without considerable study. The story is wholesome and patriotic in tone, as are all of Mr. Otis' works.

With Lafayette at Yorktown: A Story of How Two Boys Joined the Continental Army. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Two lads from Portmouth, N. H., attempt to enlist in the Colonial Army, and are given employment as spies. There is no lack of exciting incidents which the youthful reader craves, but it is healthful excitement brimming with facts which every boy should be familiar with, and while the reader is following the adventures of Ben Jaffrays and Ned Allen he is acquiring a fund of historical lore which will remain in his memory long after that which he has memorized from textbooks has been forgotten.

At the Siege of Havana. Being the Experiences of Three Boys Serving under Israel Putnam in 1762. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

"At the Siege of Havana" deals with that portion of the island's history when the English king captured the capital, thanks to the assistance given by the troops from New England, led in part by Col. Israel Putnam.

The principal characters are Darius Lunt, the lad who, represented as telling the story, and his comrades, Robert Clement and Nicholas Vallet. Colonel Putnam also figures to considerable extent, necessarily, in the tale, and the whole forms one of the most readable stories founded on historical facts.

The Defense of Fort Henry. A Story of Wheeling Creek in 1777. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

Nowhere in the history of our country can be found more heroic or thrilling incidents than in the story of those brave men and women who founded the settlement of Wheeling in the Colony of Virginia. The recital of what Elizabeth Zane did is in itself as heroic a story as can be imagined. The wondrous bravery displayed by Major McCulloch and his gallant comrades, the sufferings of the colonists and their sacrifice of blood and life, stir the blood of old as well as young readers.

The Capture of the Laughing Mary. A Story of Three New York Boys in 1776. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, price $1.50.

"During the British occupancy of New York, at the outbreak of the Revolution, a Yankee lad hears of the plot to take General Washington's person, and calls in two companions to assist the patriot cause. They do some astonishing things, and, incidentally, lay the way for an American navy later, by the exploit which gives its name to the work. Mr. Otis' books are too well known to require any particular commendation to the young."—Evening Post.

With Warren at Bunker Hill. A Story of the Siege of Boston. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.

"This is a tale of the siege of Boston, which opens on the day after the doings at Lexington and Concord, with a description of home life in Boston, introduces the reader to the British camp at Charlestown, shows Gen. Warren at home, describes what a boy thought of the battle of Bunker Hill, and closes with the raising of the siege. The three heroes, George Wentworth, Ben Scarlett and an old ropemaker, incur the enmity of a young Tory, who causes them many adventures the boys will like to read."—Detroit Free Press.

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CHAPTER		PAGE
I.	ON BOARD THE "ARCTURUS."	1
II.	THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.	10
III.	SCOTT LEARNS A LESSON.	19
IV.	TRACKING THE THIEF.	27
V.	AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.	36
VI.	SCOTT FINDS A RELATIVE AND A PLACE.	45
VII.	AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.	54
VIII.	SCOTT RECOVERS PART OF HIS MONEY.	63
IX.	BUSINESS EXPERIENCE.	72
X.	SETH LAWTON.	80
XI.	SCOTT CALLS ON HIS POOR RELATION.	89
XII.	THE SECOND-HAND SUIT.	98
XIII.	A CASH BOY'S TROUBLES.	107
XIV.	A HELPING HAND.	116
XV.	THE CASH BOY'S PROMOTION.	125
XVI.	LOAMMI'S TEMPTATION.	134
XVII.	SUSPICION FALLS UPON SCOTT.	142
XVIII.	TRAPPED.	150
XIX.	A NEW HOME.	159
XX.	SCOTT IS VINDICATED.	167
XXI.	A NEW PLACE.	176
XXII.	THE POOR INVENTOR.	185
XXIII.	EZRA LITTLE'S DISAPPOINTMENT.	193
XXIV.	LOAMMI HEARS GOOD NEWS.	202
XXV.	AT NIAGARA FALLS.	210
XXVI.	AN ADVENTURE.	219
XXVII.	RED RALPH.	227
XXVIII.	ON WATCH.	235
XXIX.	A PLOT FOILED.	243
XXX.	RED RALPH'S SURPRISE.	252
XXXI.	AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.	261
XXXII.	A LARGE OPERATION.	270
XXXIII.	SCOTT GETS INTO SOCIETY.	279
XXXIV.	MR. BABCOCK'S INVENTION.	287
XXXV.	THE SEALED PACKET.	296
XXXVI.	A TIMELY HELPER.	305
XXXVII.	CONCLUSION.	310
	A. L. Burt's Catalogue of Books	1