THE TELEGRAPH BOY. 

 BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. , AUTHOR OF "RAGGED DICK SERIES, " "LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES, " "BRAVE AND BOLDSERIES, " ETC. , ETC. 

 HORATIO ALGER'S BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 

 THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. PHILADELPHIA CHICAGO TORONTO

 To THREE YOUNG FRIENDS, LORIN AND BEATRICE BERNHEIMER, AND FLORINE ARNOLD, This Story IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 

PREFACE. 

The "Telegraph Boy" completes the series of sketches of street-life inNew York inaugurated eleven years since by the publication of "RaggedDick. " The author has reason to feel gratified by the warm receptionaccorded by the public to these pictures of humble life in the greatmetropolis. He is even more gratified by the assurance that his laborshave awakened a philanthropic interest in the children whose strugglesand privations he has endeavored faithfully to describe. He feels it hisduty to state that there is no way in which these waifs can moreeffectually be assisted than by contributing to the funds of "TheChildren's Aid Society, " whose wise and comprehensive plans for thebenefit of their young wards have already been crowned with abundantsuccess. 

The class of boys described in the present volume was called intoexistence only a few years since, but they are already so numerous thatone can scarcely ride down town by any conveyance without having one fora fellow-passenger. Most of them reside with their parents and havecomfortable homes, but a few, like the hero of this story, are whollydependent on their own exertions for a livelihood. The variety oferrands on which they are employed, and their curious experiences, areby no means exaggerated in the present story. In its preparation theauthor has been assisted by an excellent sketch published perhaps a yearsince in the "New York Tribune. "

 HORATIO ALGER, JR. NEW YORK, Sept. 1, 1879. 

THE TELEGRAPH BOY. 

CHAPTER I. 

A YOUNG CARPET-BAGGER. 

"Twenty-five cents to begin the world with!" reflected Frank Kavanagh, drawing from his vest-pocket two ten-cent pieces of currency and anickel. "That isn't much, but it will have to do. "

The speaker, a boy of fifteen, was sitting on a bench in City-Hall Park. He was apparently about fifteen years old, with a face not handsome, butfrank and good-humored, and an expression indicating an energetic andhopeful temperament. A small bundle, rolled up in a handkerchief, contained his surplus wardrobe. He had that day arrived in New York by aboat from Hartford, and meant to stay in the city if he could make aliving. 

Next to him sat a man of thirty-five, shabbily dressed, who clearly wasnot a member of any temperance society, if an inflamed countenance andred nose may be trusted. Frank Kavanagh's display of money attracted hisattention, for, small as was the boy's capital, it was greater than hisown. 

"Been long in the city, Johnny?" he inquired. 

"I only arrived to-day, " answered Frank. "My name isn't Johnny, though. "

"It's immaterial. Johnny is a generic term, " said the stranger. "Isuppose you have come here to make your fortune. "

"I shall be satisfied with a living to begin with, " said Frank. 

"Where did you come from?"

"A few miles from Hartford. "

"Got any relations there?"

"Yes, --an uncle and aunt. "

"I suppose you were sorry to leave them. "

"Not much. Uncle is a pretty good man, but he's fond of money, and auntis about as mean as they make 'em. They got tired of supporting me, andgave me money enough to get to New York. "

"I suppose you have some left, " said the stranger, persuasively. 

"Twenty-five cents, " answered Frank, laughing. "That isn't a very bigcapital to start on, is it?"

"Is that all you've got?" asked the shabbily dressed stranger, in a toneof disappointment. 

"Every cent. "

"I wish I had ten dollars to give you, " said the stranger, thoughtfully. 

"Thank you, sir; I wish you had, " said Frank, his eyes resting on thedilapidated attire of his benevolent companion. Judging from that, hewas not surprised that ten dollars exceeded the charitable fund of thephilanthropist. 

"My operations in Wall street have not been fortunate of late, " resumedthe stranger; "and I am in consequence hard up. "

"Do you do business in Wall street?" asked Frank, rather surprised. 

"Sometimes, " was the reply. "I have lost heavily of late in Erie andPacific Mail, but it is only temporary. I shall soon be on my feetagain. "

"I hope so, sir, " said Frank, politely. 

"My career has been a chequered one, " continued the stranger. "I, too, as a mere boy, came up from the country to make my fortune. I embarkedin trade, and was for a time successful. I resigned to get time to writea play, --a comedy in five acts. "

Frank regarded his companion with heightened respect. He was a boy ofgood education, and the author of a play in his eyes was a man ofgenius. 

"Was it played?" he inquired. 

"No; Wallack said it had too many difficult characters for his company, and the rest of the managers kept putting me off, while they wereproducing inferior plays. The American public will never know what theyhave lost. But, enough of this. Sometime I will read you the'Mother-in-law, ' if you like. Have you had dinner?"

"No, " answered Frank. "Do you know where I can dine cheap?" heinquired. 

"Yes, " answered the stranger. "Once I boarded at the Astor House, butnow I am forced, by dire necessity, to frequent cheap restaurants. Follow me. "

"What is your name, sir?" asked Frank, as he rose from the bench. 

"Montagu Percy, " was the reply. "Sorry I haven't my card-case with me, or I would hand you my address. I think you said your name was notJohnny. "

"My name is Frank Kavanagh. "

"A very good name. 'What's in a name?' as Shakespeare says. "

As the oddly assorted pair crossed the street, and walked down Nassaustreet, they attracted the attention of some of the Arabs who werelounging about Printing-House square. 

"I say, country, is that your long-lost uncle?" asked a boot-black. 

"No, it isn't, " answered Frank, shortly. 

Though he was willing to avail himself of Mr. Percy's guidance, he wasnot ambitious of being regarded as his nephew. 

"Heed not their ribald scoffs, " said Montagu Percy, loftily. "Theirwords pass by me 'like the idle wind, ' which I regard not. "

"Who painted your nose, mister?" asked another boy, of course addressingFrank's companion. 

"I will hand you over to the next policeman, " exclaimed Percy, angrily. 

"Look out he don't haul you in, instead, " retorted the boy. 

Montagu Percy made a motion to pursue his tormentors, but desisted. 

"They are beneath contempt, " he said. "It is ever the lot of genius tobe railed at by the ignorant and ignoble. They referred to my nose beingred, but mistook the cause. It is a cutaneous eruption, --the result oferysipelas. "

"Is it?" asked Frank, rather mystified. 

"I am not a drinking man--that is, I indulge myself but rarely. But herewe are. "

So saying he plunged down some steps into a basement, Frank followinghim. Our hero found himself in a dirty apartment, provided with a bar, over which was a placard, inscribed:--

"FREE LUNCH. "

"How much money have you got, Frank?" inquired Montagu Percy. 

"Twenty-five cents. "

"Lunch at this establishment is free, " said Montagu; "but you areexpected to order some drink. What will you have?"

"I don't care for any drink except a glass of water. "

"All right; I will order for you, as the rules of the establishmentrequire it; but I will drink your glass myself. Eat whatever you like. "

Frank took a sandwich from a plate on the counter and ate it withrelish, for he was hungry. Meanwhile his companion emptied the twoglasses, and ordered another. 

"Can you pay for these drinks?" asked the bar-tender, suspiciously. 

"Sir, I never order what I cannot pay for. "

"I don't know about that. You've been in here and taken lunch more thanonce without drinking anything. "

"It may be so. I will make up for it now. Another glass, please. "

"First pay for what you have already drunk. "

"Frank, hand me your money, " said Montagu. 

Frank incautiously handed him his small stock of money, which he sawinstantly transferred to the bar-tender. 

"That is right, I believe, " said Montagu Percy. 

The bar-keeper nodded, and Percy, transferring his attention to the freelunch, stowed away a large amount. 

Frank observed with some uneasiness the transfer of his entire cashcapital to the bar-tender; but concluded that Mr. Percy would refund apart after they went out. As they reached the street he broached thesubject. 

"I didn't agree to pay for both dinners, " he said, uneasily. 

"Of course not. It will be my treat next time. That will be fair, won'tit?"

"But I would rather you would give me back a part of my money. I may notsee you again. "

"I will be in the Park to-morrow at one o'clock. "

"Give me back ten cents, then, " said Frank, uneasily. "That was all themoney I had. "

"I am really sorry, but I haven't a penny about me. I'll make it rightto-morrow. Good-day, my young friend. Be virtuous and you will behappy. "

Frank looked after the shabby figure ruefully. He felt that he had beentaken in and done for. His small capital had vanished, and he was adriftin the streets of a strange city without a penny. 

CHAPTER II. 

DICK RAFFERTY. 

"I've been a fool, " said Frank to himself, in genuine mortification, ashe realized how easily he had permitted himself to be duped. "I ought tohave stayed in the country. "

Even a small sum of money imparts to its possessor a feeling ofindependence, but one who is quite penniless feels helpless andapprehensive. Frank was unable even to purchase an apple from the snuffyold apple-woman who presided over the stand near by. 

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself, soberly. 

"What has become of your uncle?" asked a boot-black. 

Looking up, Frank recognized one of those who had saluted Percy andhimself on their way to the restaurant. 

"He isn't my uncle, " he replied, rather resentfully. 

"You never saw him before, did you?" continued the boy. 

"No, I didn't. "

"That's what I thought. "

There was something significant in the young Arab's tone, which ledFrank to inquire, "Do you know him?"

"Yes, he's a dead-beat. "

"A what?"

"A dead-beat. Don't you understand English?"

"He told me that he did business on Wall street. "

The boot-black shrieked with laughter. 

"He do business on Wall street!" he repeated. "You're jolly green, youare!"

Frank was inclined to be angry, but he had the good sense to see thathis new friend was right. So he said good-humoredly, "I suppose I am. You see I am not used to the city. "

"It's just such fellows as you he gets hold of, " continued theboot-black. "Didn't he make you treat?"

"I may as well confess it, " thought Frank. "This boy may help me withadvice. "

"Yes, " he said aloud. "I hadn't but twenty-five cents, and he made mespend it all. I haven't a cent left. "

"Whew!" ejaculated the other boy. "You're beginnin' business on a smallcapital. "

"That's so, " said Frank. "Do you know any way I can earn money?"

Dick Rafferty was a good-natured boy, although rough, and now that Frankhad appealed to him for advice he felt willing to help him, if he could. 

"What can you do?" he asked, in a business-like tone. "Have you everworked?"

"Yes, " answered Frank. 

"What can you do?"

"I can milk cows, hoe corn and potatoes, ride horse to plough, and--"

"Hold up!" said Dick. "All them things aint goin' to do you no good inNew York. People don't keep cows as a reg'lar thing here. "

"Of course I know that. "

"And there aint much room for plantin' corn and potatoes. Maybe youcould get a job over in Jersey. "

"I'd rather stay in New York. I can do something here. "

"Can you black boots, or sell papers?"

"I can learn. "

"You need money to set up in either of them lines, " said Dick Rafferty. 

"Would twenty-five cents have been enough?" asked Frank. 

"You could have bought some evening papers with that. "

"I wish somebody would lend me some money, " said Frank; "I'd pay it backas soon as I'd sold my papers. I was a fool to let that fellow swindleme. "

"That's so, " assented Dick; "but it's no good thinkin' of that now. I'dlend you the money myself, if I had it; but I've run out my account atthe Park Bank, and can't spare the money just at present. "

"How long have you been in business?" asked Frank. 

"Ever since I was eight years old; and I'm goin' on fifteen now. "

"You went to work early. "

"Yes, I had to. Father and mother both died, and I was left to take careof myself. "

"You took care of yourself when you were only eight years old?" askedFrank, in surprise. 

"Yes. "

"Then I ought to make a living, for I am fifteen, --a year older than youare now. "

"Oh, you'll get along when you get started, " said Dick, encouragingly. "There's lots of things to do. "

"Is there anything to do that doesn't require any capital?" inquiredFrank, anxiously. 

"Yes, you can smash baggage. "

"Will people pay for that?" asked Frank, with a smile. 

"Of course they will. You jest hang round the ferries and steamboatlandin's, and when a chap comes by with a valise or carpet-bag, you jestoffer to carry it, that's all. "

"Is that what you call smashing baggage?"

"Of course. What did you think it was?"

Frank evaded answering, not caring to display his country ignorance. 

"Do you think I can get a chance to do that?" he asked. 

"You can try it and see. "

"I came in by the Hartford boat myself, to-day, " said Frank. "If I'dthought of it, I would have begun at once. "

"Only you wouldn't have knowed the way anywhere, and if a gentlemanasked you to carry his valise to any hotel you'd have had to ask whereit was. "

"So I should, " Frank admitted. 

"I'll show you round a little, if you want me to, " said Dick. "I shan'thave anything to do for an hour or two. "

"I wish you would. "

So the two boys walked about in the lower part of the city, Dickpointing out hotels, public buildings, and prominent streets. Frank hada retentive memory, and stored away the information carefully. Pennilessas he was, he was excited and exhilarated by the scene of activity inwhich he was moving, and was glad he was going to live in it, or toattempt doing so. 

"When I am used to it I shall like it much better than the country, " hesaid to Dick. "Don't you?"

"I don't know about that, " was the reply. "Sometimes I think I'll goWest;--a lot of boys that I know have gone there. "

"Won't it take a good deal of money to go?" asked Frank. 

"Oh, there's a society that pays boys' expenses, and finds 'em nicehomes with the farmers. Tom Harrison, one of my friends, went out sixweeks ago, and he writes me that it's bully. He's gone to some town inKansas. "

"That's a good way off. "

"I wouldn't mind that. I'd like ridin' in the cars. "

"It would be something new to you; but I've lived in the country all mylife, I'd rather stay here awhile. "

"It's just the way a feller feels, " said Dick philosophically. "I'vebummed around so much I'd like a good, stiddy home, with three squaremeals a day and a good bed to sleep on. "

"Can't you get that here?" asked Frank. 

"Not stiddy. Sometimes I don't get but one square meal a day. "

Frank became thoughtful. Life in the city seemed more precarious andless desirable than he anticipated. 

"Well, I must go to work again, " said Dick, after a while. 

"Where are you going to sleep to-night?" asked Frank. 

"I don't know whether I'd better sleep at the Astor House or Fifthavenue, " said Dick. 

Frank looked perplexed. 

"You don't mean that, do you?" he asked. 

"Of course I don't. You're too fresh. Don't get mad, " he continuedgood-naturedly, seeing the flush on Frank's cheek. "You'll know as muchabout the city as I do before long. I shall go to the Newsboys' Lodgin'House, where I can sleep for six cents. "

"I wish I had six cents, " said Frank. "If I could only get work I'd soonearn it. You can't think of anything for me to do, can you?"

Dick's face lighted up. 

"Yes, " he said, "I can get you a job, though it aint a very good one. Iwonder I didn't think of it before. "

"What is it?" asked Frank, anxiously. 

"It's to go round with a blind man, solicitin' contributions. "

"You mean begging?"

"Yes; you lead him into stores and countin' rooms, and he asks formoney. "

"I don't like it much, " said Frank, slowly, "but I must do something. After all, it'll be he that's begging, not I. "

"I'll take you right round where he lives, " said Dick. "Maybe he'll goout this evenin'. His other boy give him the slip, and he hasn' got anew one yet. "

CHAPTER III. 

FRANK FINDS AN EMPLOYER. 

A stone's throw from Centre street stands a tall tenement-house, sheltering anywhere from forty to fifty families in squalidwretchedness. The rent which each family pays would procure a neat housein a country town, with perhaps a little land beside; but the city has amysterious fascination for the poorer classes, and year after year manywho might make the change herd together in contracted and noisomequarters, when they might have their share of light and space in countryneighborhoods. 

It was in front of this tenement-house that Dick halted, and plungedinto a dark entrance, admonishing Frank to follow. Up creaking anddilapidated staircases to the fourth floor the boys went. 

"Here we are, " said Dick, panting a little from the rapidity of hisascent, and began a vigorous tattoo on a door to the left. 

"Is this where the blind gentleman lives?" asked Frank, looking aroundhim dubiously. 

"He isn't much of a gentleman to look at, " said Dick, laughing. "Do youhear him?"

Frank heard a hoarse growl from the inside, which might have been "Comein. " At any rate, Dick chose so to interpret it, and opened the door. 

The boys found themselves in a scantily furnished room, with a close, disagreeable smell pervading the atmosphere. In the corner was a lowbedstead, on which lay a tall man, with a long, gray beard, and adisagreeable, almost repulsive, countenance. He turned his eyes, which, contrary to Frank's expectations, were wide open, full upon hisvisitors. 

"What do you want?" he asked querulously. "I was asleep, and you havewaked me up. "

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mills, " said Dick; "but I come on business. "

"What business can you have with me?" demanded the blind man. "Who areyou?"

"I am Dick Rafferty. I black boots in the Park, " replied Dick. 

"Well, I haven't got any money to pay for blacking boots. "

"I didn't expect you had. I hear your boy has left you. "

"Yes, the young rascal! He's given me the slip. I expect he's robbed metoo; but I can't tell, for I'm blind. "

"Do you want a new boy?"

"Yes; but I can't pay much. I'm very poor. I don't think the place willsuit you. "

"Nor I either, " said Dick, frankly. "I'd rather make a living outside. But I've got a boy with me who has just come to the city, and is out ofbusiness. I guess he'll engage with you. "

"What's his name? Let him speak for himself. "

"My name is Frank Kavanagh, " said our hero, in a clear, distinct voice. 

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen. "

"Do you know what your duties will be?"

"Yes; Dick has told me. "

"I told him you'd want him to go round on a collecting tour with youevery day, " said Dick. 

"That isn't all. You'll have to buy my groceries and all I need. "

"I can do that, " said Frank, cheerfully, reflecting that this would bemuch more agreeable than accompanying the old man round the streets. 

"Are you honest?" queried the blind man, sharply. 

Frank answered, with an indignant flush, "I never stole a cent in mylife. "

"I supposed you'd say that, " retorted the blind man, with a sneer. "Theyall do; but a good many will steal for all that. "

"If you're afraid I will, you needn't hire me, " said Frank, independently. 

"Of course I needn't, " said Mills, sharply; "but I am not afraid. If youtake any of my money I shall be sure to find it out, if I am blind. "

"Don't mind him, Frank, " said Dick, in a low voice. 

"What's that?" asked the blind man, suspiciously. "What are you twowhispering about?"

"I told Frank not to mind the way you spoke, " said Dick. 

"Your friend will lend you some, then. "

"Not much, " answered Dick, laughing. "I'm dead-broke. Haven't you gotany money, Mr. Mills?"

"I have a little, " grumbled the blind man; "but this boy may take it, and never come back. "

"If you think so, " said Frank, proudly, "you'd better engage some otherboy. "

"No use; you're all alike. Wait a minute, and I'll give you some money. "

He drew from his pocket a roll of scrip, and handed one to Frank. 

"I don't think that will be enough, " said Frank. "It's only five cents. "

"Are you sure it isn't a quarter?" grumbled Mills. 

"Yes, sir. "

"What do you say, --you, Dick?"

"It's only five cents, sir. "

"Is that twenty-five?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Then take it, and mind you don't loiter. "

"Yes, sir. "

"And be sure to bring back the change. "

"Of course I will, " said Frank indignantly, resenting his employer'ssuspicion. 

"What do you think of him, Frank?" asked Dick, as they descended thestairs. 

"I don't like him at all, Dick, " said Frank, decidedly. "I wish I couldget something else to do. "

"You can, after a while. As you have no capital you must take what youcan get now. "

"So I suppose; but I didn't come to the city for this. "

"If you don't like it you can leave in a few days. "

This Frank fully resolved to do at the first favorable opportunity. 

Dick showed him where he could buy the articles he was commissioned topurchase; and Frank, after obtaining them, went back to thetenement-house. 

Mills scrupulously demanded the change, and put it back into his pocket. Then he made Frank pour out the ale into a glass. This he drank withapparent zest, but offered none to Frank. 

"Ale isn't good for boys, " he said. "You can cut the bread, and eat twoslices. Don't cut them too thick. "

The blind man ate some of the bread himself, and then requested Frank tohelp him on with his coat and vest. 

"I haven't taken any money to-day, " he said "I must try to collect some, or I shall starve. It's a sad thing to be blind, " he continued, hisvoice changing to a whine. 

"You don't look blind, " said Frank, thoughtfully. "Your eyes are open. "

"What if they are?" said Mills, testily. "I cannot see. When I go out Iclose them, because the light hurts them. "

Led by Frank, the blind man descended the stairs, and emerged into thestreet. 

CHAPTER IV. 

"PITY THE BLIND. "

"Where shall I lead you?" asked Frank. 

"To Broadway first. Do you know Broadway?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Be careful when we cross the street, or you will have me run over. "

"All right, sir. "

"If any one asks you about me, say I am your uncle. "

"But you are not. "

"What difference does that make, you little fool?" said the blind man, roughly. "Are you ashamed to own me as your uncle?"

Frank felt obliged, out of politeness, to say "No;" but in his own mindhe was not quite sure whether he would be willing to acknowledge anyrelationship to the disagreeable old man whom he was leading. 

They reached Broadway, and entered a store devoted to gentlemen'sfurnishing goods. 

"Charity for a poor blind man!" whined Mills, in the tone of aprofessional beggar. 

"Look here, old fellow, you come in here too often, " said a youngsalesman. "I gave you five cents yesterday. "

"I didn't know it, " said Mills. "I am a poor blind man. All places arealike to me. "

"Then your boy should know better. Nothing for you to-day. "

Frank and his companion left the store. 

In the next they were more fortunate. A nickel was bestowed upon theblind mendicant. 

"How much is it?" asked Mills, when they were on the sidewalk. 

"Five cents, sir. "

"That's better than nothing, but we ought to do better. It takes a goodmany five-cent pieces to make a dollar. When you see a well-dressed ladycoming along, tell me. "

Frank felt almost as much ashamed as if he were himself begging, but hemust do what was expected of him. Accordingly he very soon notified theblind man that a lady was close at hand. 

"Lead me up to her, and say, Can you spare something for my poor, blinduncle?"

Frank complied in part, but instead of "poor, blind uncle" he said"poor, blind man. " Mills scowled, as he found himself disobeyed. 

"How long has he been blind?" asked the lady, sympathetically. 

"For many years, " whined Mills. 

"Is this your boy?"

"Yes, ma'am; he is my young nephew, from the country. "

"You are fortunate in having him to go about with you. "

"Yes, ma'am; I don't know what I should do without him. "

"Here is something for you, my good man, " said the lady, and passed on. 

"Thank you, ma'am. May Heaven bless you!"

"How much is it?" he asked quickly, when the lady was out of hearing. 

"Two cents, " answered Frank, suppressing with difficulty an inclinationto laugh. 

"The mean jade! I should like to wring her neck!" muttered Mills. "Ithought it was a quarter, at least. "

In the next store they did not meet a cordial reception. 

"Clear out, you old humbug!" shouted the proprietor, who was inill-humor. "You ought to be put in the penitentiary for begging aboutthe streets. "

"I pray to God that you may become blind yourself, " said Mills, passionately. 

"Out of my store, or I'll have you arrested, both of you!" said theangry tradesman. "Here, you boy, don't you bring that old fraud in thisstore again, if you know what's best for yourself. "

There was nothing to do but to comply with this peremptory order. 

"He's a beast!" snarled Mills; "I'd like to put his eyes out myself. "

"You haven't got a very amiable temper, " thought Frank. "I wouldn'tlike to be blind; but even if I were, I would try to be pleasanter. "

Two young girls, passing by, noticed the blind man. They weresoft-hearted, and stopped to inquire how long he had been blind. 

"Before you were born, my pretty maid, " said Mills, sighing. 

"I have an aunt who is blind, " said one of the girls; "but she is notpoor, like you. "

"I am very poor, " whined Mills; "I have not money enough to pay my rent, and I may be turned out into the street. "

"How sad!" said the young girl, in a tone of deep sympathy. "I have notmuch money, but I will give you all I have. "

"May God bless you, and spare your eyes!" said Mills, as he closed hishand upon the money. 

"How much is it?" he asked as before, when they had passed on. 

"Twenty-five cents, " said Frank. 

"That is better, " said Mills, in a tone of satisfaction. 

For some time afterwards all applications were refused; in some cases, roughly. 

"Why don't you work?" asked one man, bluntly. 

"What can I do?" asked Mills. 

"That's your lookout. Some blind men work. I suppose you would ratherget your living by begging. "

"I would work my fingers to the bone if I could only see, " whined Mills. 

"So you say; but I don't believe it. At any rate, that boy of yours cansee. Why don't you set him to work?"

"He has to take care of me. "

"I would work if I could get anything to do, " said Frank. 

As he spoke, he felt his hand pressed forcibly by his companion, who didnot relish his answer. 

"I cannot spare him, " he whined. "He has to do everything for me. "

When they were again in the street, Mills demanded, roughly, "What didyou mean by saying that?"

"What, sir?"

"That you wanted to go to work. "

"Because it is true. "

"You are at work; you are working for me, " said Mills. 

"I would rather work in a store, or an office, or sell papers. "

"That wouldn't do me any good. Don't speak in that way again. "

The two were out about a couple of hours, and very tiresome Frank foundit. Then Mills indicated a desire to go home, and they went back to theroom in the old tenement-house. Mills threw himself down on the bed inthe corner, and heaved a sigh of relief. 

"Now, boy, count the money we have collected, " he said. 

"There's ninety-three cents, " Frank announced. 

"If I had known it was so near a dollar we would have stayed a littlelonger. Now, get me my pipe. "

"Where is it, sir?"

"In the cupboard. Fill it with tobacco, and light it. "

"Are you not afraid of setting the bedding on fire, sir?"

"Mind your own business. If I choose to set it on fire, I will, " snarledMills. 

"Very well, sir; I thought I'd mention it. "

"You have mentioned it, and you needn't do it again. "

"What a sweet temper you've got!" thought Frank. 

He sat down on a broken chair, and, having nothing else to do, watchedhis employer. "He looks very much as if he could see, " thought Frank;for Mills now had his eyes wide open. 

"What are you staring at me for, boy?" demanded his employer, ratherunexpectedly. 

"What makes you think I am staring at you, sir?" was Frank's naturalquestion. "I thought you couldn't see. "

"No more I can, but I can tell when one is staring at me. It makes mecreep all over. "

"Then I'll look somewhere else. "

"Would you like to do some work, as you said?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Then take twenty-five cents, and buy some evening papers and sell them;but mind you bring the money to me. "

"Yes, sir, " said Frank, with alacrity. 

Anything he thought would be better than sitting in that dull room withso disagreeable a companion. 

"Mind you don't run off with the money, " said the blind man, sharply. "If you do I'll have you put in the Tombs. "

"I don't mean to run away with the money, " retorted Frank, indignantly. 

"And when you've sold the papers, come home. "

"Yes, sir. "

With a feeling of relief, Frank descended the stairs and directed hissteps to the Park, meaning to ask Dick Rafferty's advice about theproper way to start in business as a newsboy. 

CHAPTER V. 

FRANK THROWS UP HIS SITUATION. 

Frank found his friend on Park Row, and made known his errand. 

"So old Mills wants you to sell papers for his benefit, does he?"

"Yes, but I'd rather do it than to stay with him. "

"How much has he agreed to pay you?"

"That isn't settled yet. "

"You'd better bring him to the point, or he won't pay you anythingexcept board and lodging, and mighty mean both of them will be. "

"I won't say anything about it the first day, " said Frank. "What papersshall I buy?"

"It's rather late. You'd better try for Telegrams. "

Frank did so, and succeeded in selling half a dozen, yielding a profitof six cents. It was not a brilliant beginning, but he was late in thefield, and most had purchased their evening papers. His papers sold, Frank went home and announced the result. 

"Umph!" muttered the blind man. "Give me the money. "

"Here it is, sir. "

"Have you given me all?" sharply demanded Mills. 

"Of course I have, " said Frank, indignantly. 

"Don't you be impudent, or I will give you a flogging, " said the blindman, roughly. 

"I am not used to be talked to in that way, " said Frank, independently. 

"You've always had your own way, I suppose, " snarled Mills. 

"No, I haven't; but I have been treated kindly. "

"You are only a boy, and I won't allow you to talk back to me. Do youhear?"

"Yes. "

"Then take care to remember. "

"You've got a sweet disposition, " thought Frank. "I won't stay with youany longer than I am obliged to. "

Several days passed without bringing any incidents worth recording. Frank took a daily walk with the blind man, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon. These walks were very distasteful to him. The companion of a beggar, he felt as if he himself were begging. Heliked better the time he spent in selling papers, though he reaped nobenefit himself. In fact, his wages were poor enough. Thus far his farehad consisted of dry bread with an occasional bun. He was a healthy, vigorous boy, and he felt the need of meat, or some other hearty food, and ventured to intimate as much to his employer. 

"So you want meat, do you?" snarled Mills. 

"Yes, sir; I haven't tasted any for a week. "

"Perhaps you'd like to take your meals at Delmonico's?" sneered theblind man. 

Frank was so new to the city that this well-known name did not conveyany special idea to him, and he answered "Yes. "

"That's what I thought!" exclaimed Mills, angrily. "You want to eat meout of house and home. "

"No, I don't; I only want enough food to keep up my strength. "

"Well, you are getting it. I give you all I can afford. "

Frank was inclined to doubt this. He estimated that what he ate did notcost his employer over six or eight cents a day, and he generally earnedfor him twenty to thirty cents on the sale of papers, besides helpinghim to collect about a dollar daily from those who pitied his blindness. 

He mentioned his grievance to his friend, Dick Rafferty. 

"I'll tell you what to do, " said Dick. 

"I wish you would. "

"Keep some of the money you make by selling papers, and buy a squaremeal at an eatin' house. "

"I don't like to do that; it wouldn't be honest. "

"Why wouldn't it?"

"I am carrying on the business for Mr. Mills. He supplies the capital. "

"Then you'd better carry it on for yourself. "

"I wish I could. "

"Why don't you?"

"I haven't any money. "

"Has he paid you any wages?"

"No. "

"Then make him. "

Frank thought this a good suggestion. He had been with Mills a week, andit seemed fair enough that he should receive some pay besides a wretchedbed and a little dry bread. Accordingly, returning to the room, hebroached the subject. 

"What do you want wages for?" demanded Mills, displeased. 

"I think I earn them, " said Frank, boldly. 

"You get board and lodging. You are better off than a good many boys. "

"I shall want some clothes, some time, " said Frank. 

"Perhaps you'd like to have me pay you a dollar a day, " said Mills. 

"I know you can't afford to pay me that. I will be satisfied if you willpay me ten cents a day, " replied Frank. 

Frank reflected that, though this was a very small sum, in ten days itwould give him a dollar, and then he would feel justified in setting upa business on his own account, as a newsboy. He anxiously awaited ananswer. 

"I will think of it, " said the blind man evasively, and Frank did notventure to say more. 

The next day, when Mills, led by Frank, was on his round, the twoentered a cigar-store. Frank was much surprised when the cigar-venderhanded him a fifty-cent currency note. He thought there was somemistake. 

"Thank you, sir, " he said; "but did you mean to give me fifty cents?"

"Yes, " said the cigar-vender, laughing; "but I wouldn't have done it, ifit had been good. "

"Isn't it good?"

"No, it's a counterfeit, and a pretty bad one. I might pass it, but itwould cost me too much time and trouble. "

Frank was confounded. He mechanically handed the money to Mills, but didnot again thank the giver. When they returned to the tenement-house, Mills requested Frank to go to the baker's for a loaf of bread. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Here is the money. "

"But that is the counterfeit note, " said Frank, scrutinizing the billgiven him. 

"What if it is?" demanded Mills, sharply. 

"It won't pass. "

"Yes, it will, if you are sharp. "

"Do you want me to pass counterfeit money, Mr. Mills?"

"Yes, I do; I took it, and I mean to get rid of it. "

"But you didn't give anything for it. "

"That's neither here nor there. Take it, and offer it to the baker. Ifhe won't take it, go to another baker with it. "

"I would rather not do it, " said Frank, firmly. 

"Rather not!" exclaimed Mills, angrily. "Do you pretend to dictate tome?"

"No, I don't, but I don't mean to pass any counterfeit money for you orany other man, " said Frank, with spirit. 

Mills half rose, with a threatening gesture, but thought better of it. 

"You're a fool, " said he. "I suppose you are afraid of being arrested;but you have only to say that I gave it to you, and that I am blind, andcouldn't tell it from good money. "

"But you know that it is bad money, Mr. Mills. "

"What if I do? No one can prove it. Take the money, and come back asquick as you can. "

"You must excuse me, " said Frank, quietly, but firmly. 

"Do you refuse to do as I bid you?" demanded Mills, furiously. 

"I refuse to pass counterfeit money. "

"Then, by Heaven, I'll flog you!"

Mills rose and advanced directly towards Frank, with his eyes wide open. Fortunately our hero was near the door, and, quickly opening it, dartedfrom the room, pursued by Mills, his face flaming with wrath. Itflashed upon Frank that no blind man could have done this. He decidedthat the man was a humbug, and could see a little, at all events. Hisblindness was no doubt assumed to enable him to appeal more effectivelyto the sympathizing public. This revelation disgusted Frank. He couldnot respect a man who lived by fraud. Counterfeit or no counterfeit, hedecided to withdraw at once and forever from the service of Mr. Mills. 

His employer gave up the pursuit before he reached the street. Frankfound himself on the sidewalk, free and emancipated, no richer than whenhe entered the service of the blind man, except in experience. 

"I haven't got a cent, " he said to himself, "but I'll get alongsomehow. "

CHAPTER VI. 

FRANK GETS A JOB. 

Though Frank was penniless he was not cast down. He was tolerablyfamiliar with the lower part of the city, and had greater reliance onhimself than he had a week ago. If he had only had capital to the extentof fifty cents he would have felt quite at ease, for this would have sethim up as a newsboy. 

"I wonder if I could borrow fifty cents of Dick Rafferty, " consideredFrank. "I'll try, at any rate. "

He ran across Dick in City-Hall Park. That young gentleman was engagedin pitching pennies with a brother professional. 

"I say, Dick, I want to speak to you a minute, " said Frank. 

"All right! Go ahead!"

"I've lost my place. "

Dick whistled. 

"Got sacked, have you?" he asked. 

"Yes; but I might have stayed. "

"Why didn't you?"

"Mills wanted me to pass a counterfeit note, and I wouldn't. "

"Was it a bad-looking one?"

"Yes. "

"Then you're right. You might have got nabbed. "

"That wasn't the reason I refused. If I had been sure there'd have beenno trouble I wouldn't have done it. "

"Why not?" asked Dick, who did not understand our hero's scruples. 

"Because it's wrong. "

Dick shrugged his shoulders. 

"I guess you belong to the church, " he said. 

"No, I don't; what makes you think so?"

"Oh, 'cause you're so mighty particular. I wouldn't mind passing it if Iwas sure I wouldn't be cotched. "

"I think it's almost as bad as stealing to buy bread, or anything else, and give what isn't worth anything for it. You might as well give apiece of newspaper. "

Though Frank was unquestionably right he did not succeed in making aconvert of Dick Rafferty. Dick was a pretty good boy, considering thesort of training he had had; but passing bad money did not seem to himobjectionable, unless "a fellow was cotched, " as he expressed it. 

"Well, what are you going to do now?" asked Dick, after a pause. 

"I guess I can get a living by selling papers. "

"You can get as good a livin' as old Mills gave you. You'll get a betterbed at the lodgin'-house than that heap of rags you laid on up there. "

"But there's one trouble, " continued Frank, "I haven't any money tostart on. Can you lend me fifty cents?"

"Fifty cents!" repeated Dick. "What do you take me for? If I wasconnected with Vanderbuilt or Astor I might set you up in business, butnow I can't. "

"Twenty-five cents will do, " said Frank. 

"Look here, Frank, " said Dick, plunging his hands into his pocket, anddrawing therefrom three pennies and a nickel, "do you see them?"

"Yes. "

"Well, it's all the money I've got. "

"I am afraid you have been extravagant, Dick, " said Frank, indisappointment. 

"Last night I went to Tony Pastor's, and when I got through I went intoa saloon and got an ice-cream and a cigar. You couldn't expect a fellerto be very rich after that. I say, I'll lend you five cents if you wantit. "

"No, thank you, Dick. I'll wait till you are richer. "

"I tell you what, Frank, I'll save up my money, and by day afterto-morrow I guess I can set you up. "

"Thank you, Dick. If I don't have the money by that time myself I'llaccept your offer. "

There was no other boy with whom Frank felt sufficiently well acquaintedto request a loan, and he walked away, feeling rather disappointed. Itwas certainly provoking to think that nothing but the lack of a smallsum stood between him and remunerative employment. Once started hedetermined not to spend quite all his earnings, but to improve upon hisfriend Dick's practice, and, if possible, get a little ahead. 

When guiding the blind man he often walked up Broadway, and mechanicallyhe took the same direction, walking slowly along, occasionally stoppingto look in at a shop-window. 

As he was sauntering along he found himself behind two gentlemen, --onean old man, who wore gold spectacles; the other, a stout, pleasant-looking man, of middle age. Frank would not have noticed themparticularly but for a sudden start and exclamation from the elder ofthe two gentlemen. 

"I declare, Thompson, " he said, "I've left my umbrella down-town. "

"Where do you think you left it?"

"In Peckham's office; that is, I think I left it there. "

"Oh, well, he'll save it for you. "

"I don't know about that. Some visitor may carry it away. "

"Never mind, Mr. Bowen. You are rich enough to afford a new one. "

"It isn't the value of the article, Thompson, " said his friend, in someemotion. "That umbrella was brought me from Paris by my son John, whodied. It is as a souvenir of him that I regard and value it. I would notlose it for a hundred dollars, nay, five hundred. "

"If you value it so much, sir, suppose we turn round and go back forit. "

Frank had listened to this conversation, and an idea struck him. Pressing forward, he said respectfully, "Let me go for it, sir. I willget it, and bring it to your house. "

The two gentlemen fixed their eyes upon the bright, eager face of thepetitioner. 

"Who are you, my boy?" asked Mr. Thompson. 

"I am a poor boy, in want of work, " answered our hero promptly. 

"What is your name?"

"Frank Kavanagh. "

"Where do you live?"

"I am trying to live in the city, sir. "

"What have you been doing?"

"Leading a blind man, sir. "

"Not a very pleasant employment, I should judge, " said Thompson, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, have you lost that job?"

"Yes, sir. "

"So the blind man turned you off, did he?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Your services were unsatisfactory, I suppose?"

"He wanted me to pass counterfeit money for him, and I refused. "

"If that is true, it is to your credit. "

"It is true, sir, " said Frank, quietly. 

"Come, Mr. Bowen, what do you say, --shall we accept this boy's services?It will save you time and trouble. "

"If I were sure he could be trusted, " said Bowen, hesitating. "He mightpawn the umbrella. It is a valuable one. "

"I hope, sir, you won't think so badly of me as that, " said Frank, withfeeling. "If I were willing to steal anything, it would not be a giftfrom your dead son. "

"I'll trust you, my boy, " said the old gentleman quickly. "Your toneconvinces me that you may be relied upon. "

"Thank you, sir. "

The old gentleman drew a card from his pocket, containing his name andaddress, and on the reverse side wrote the name of the friend at whoseoffice he felt sure the umbrella had been left, with a brief notedirecting that it be handed to the bearer. 

"All right, sir. "

"Stop a moment, my boy. Have you got money to ride?"

"No, sir. "

"Here, take this, and go down at once in the next stage. The sooner youget there the better. "

Frank followed directions. He stopped the next stage, and got on board. As he passed the City-Hall Park, Dick Rafferty espied him. Frank noddedto him. 

"How did he get money enough to ride in a 'bus?" Dick asked himself inmuch wonderment. "A few minutes ago he wanted to borrow some money ofme, and now he's spending ten cents for a ride. Maybe he's found apocket-book. "

Frank kept on his way, and got out at Wall street. He found Mr. Peckham's office, and on presenting the card, much to his delight, theumbrella was handed him. 

"Mr. Bowen was afraid to trust me with it over night, " said Mr. Peckham, with a smile. 

"He thought some visitor might carry it off, " said Frank. 

"Not unlikely. Umbrellas are considered common property. "

Frank hailed another stage, and started on his way up-town. There was noelevated railway then, and this was the readiest conveyance, as Mr. Bowen lived on Madison avenue. 

CHAPTER VII. 

AN INVITATION TO DINNER. 

"Mr. Bowen must be a rich man, " thought Frank, as he paused on the stepsof a fine brown-stone mansion, corresponding to the number on his card. 

He rang the bell, and asked, "Is Mr. Bowen at home?"

"Yes, but he is in his chamber. I don't think he will see you. "

"I think he will, " said Frank, who thought the servant was taking toomuch upon herself, "as I come by his appointment. "

"I suppose you can come into the hall, " said the servant, reluctantly. "Is your business important?"

"You may tell him that the boy he sent for his umbrella has brought it. He was afraid he had lost it. "

"He sets great store by that umbrella, " said the girl, in a differenttone. "I'll go and tell him. "

Mr. Bowen came downstairs almost immediately. There was a look ofextreme gratification upon his face. 

"Bless my soul, how quick you were!" he exclaimed. "Why, I've only beenhome a few minutes. Did you find the umbrella at Mr. Peckham's office?"

"Yes, sir; it had been found, and taken care of. "

"Did Peckham say anything?"

"He said you were probably afraid to trust it with him over night, buthe smiled when he said it. "

"Peckham will have his joke, but he is an excellent man. My boy, I ammuch indebted to you. "

"I was very glad to do the errand, sir, " said Frank. 

"I think you said you were poor, " said the old man, thoughtfully. 

"Yes, sir. When I met you I hadn't a cent in the world. "

"Haven't you any way to make a living?"

"Yes, sir. I could sell papers if I had enough money to set me up inbusiness. "

"Does it require a large capital?"

"Oh, no, sir, " said Frank, smiling, "unless you consider fifty cents alarge sum. "

"Fifty cents!" repeated the old gentleman, in surprise. "You don't meanto say that this small sum would set you up in business?"

"Yes, sir; I could buy a small stock of papers, and buy more with what Ireceived for them. "

"To be sure. I didn't think of that. "

Mr. Bowen was not a man of business. He had an ample income, and histastes were literary and artistic. He knew more of books than of men, and more of his study than of the world. 

"Well, my boy, " he said after a pause, "how much do I owe you for doingthis errand?"

"I leave that to you, sir. Whatever you think right will satisfy me. "

"Let me see, you want fifty cents to buy papers, and you will requiresomething to pay for your bed. "

"Fifty cents in all will be enough, sir. "

"I think I had better give you a dollar, " said the old gentleman, opening his pocket-book. 

Frank's eyes sparkled. A dollar would do him a great deal of good; witha dollar he would feel quite independent. 

"Thank you, sir, " he said. "It is more than I earned, but it will bevery acceptable. "

He put on his hat, and was about to leave the house, when Mr. Bowensuddenly said, "Oh, I think you'd better stay to dinner. It will be onthe table directly. My niece is away, and if you don't stay I shall bealone. "

Frank did not know what to say. He was rather abashed by the invitation, but, as the old gentleman was to be alone, it did not seem soformidable. 

"I am afraid I don't look fit, " he said. 

"You can go upstairs and wash your face and hands. You'll find aclothes-brush there also. I'll ring for Susan to show you the way. "

He rang the bell, and the girl who had admitted Frank made herappearance. 

"Susan, " said her master, "you may show this young gentlemen into theback chamber on the third floor, and see that he is supplied with towelsand all he needs. And you may lay an extra plate; he will dine with me. "

Susan stared first at Mr. Bowen, and then at Frank, but did not ventureto make any remark. 

"This way, young man, " she said, and ascended the front stairs, Frankfollowing her closely. 

She led the way into a handsomely furnished chamber, ejaculating, "Well, I never!"

"I hope you'll find things to your satisfaction, sir, " she said, dryly. "If we'd known you were coming, we'd have made particular preparationsfor you. "

"Oh, I think this will do, " said Frank, smiling for he thought it a goodjoke. 

"I am glad you think it'll do, " continued Susan. "Things mayn't be asnice as you're accustomed to at home. "

"Not quite, " said Frank, good-humoredly; "but I shan't complain. "

"That's very kind and considerate of you, I'm sure, " said Susan, tossingher head. "Well, I never did!"

"Nor I either, Susan, " said Frank, laughing. "I am a poor boy, and I amnot used to this way of living; so if you'll be kind enough to give meany hints, so I may behave properly at the table, I'll be very muchobliged to you. "

This frank acknowledgment quite appeased Susan, and she readily compliedwith our hero's request. 

"But I must be going downstairs, or dinner will be late, " she said, hurriedly. "You can come down when you hear the bell ring. "

Frank had been well brought up, though not in the city, and he was awarethat perfect neatness was one of the first characteristics of agentleman. He therefore scrubbed his face and hands till they fairlyshone, and brushed his clothes with great care. Even then they certainlydid look rather shabby, and there was a small hole in the elbow of hiscoat; but, on the whole, he looked quite passable when he entered thedining-room. 

"Take that seat, my boy, " said his host. 

Frank sat down and tried to look as if he was used to it. 

"Take this soup to Mr. Kavanagh, " said Mr. Bowen, in a dignified tone. 

Frank started and smiled slightly, feeling more and more that it was anexcellent joke. 

"I wonder what Dick Rafferty would say if he could see me now, " passedthrough his mind. 

He acquitted himself very creditably, however, and certainly displayedan excellent appetite, much to the satisfaction of his hospitable host. 

After dinner was over, Mr. Bowen detained him and began to talk of hisdead son, telling anecdotes of his boyhood, to which Frank listened withrespectful attention, for the father's devotion was touching. 

"I think my boy looked a little like you, " said the old gentleman. "Whatdo you think, Susan?"

"Not a mite, sir, " answered Susan, promptly. 

"When he was a boy, I mean. "

"I didn't know him when he was a boy, Mr. Bowen. "

"No, to be sure not. "

"But Mr. John was dark-complected, and this boy is light, and Mr. John'shair was black, and his is brown. "

"I suppose I am mistaken, " sighed the old man; "but there was somethingin the boy's face that reminded me of John. "

"A little more, and he'll want to adopt him, " thought Susan. "Thatwouldn't do nohow, though he does really seem like a decent sort of aboy. "

At eight o'clock Frank rose, and wished Mr. Bowen good-night. 

"Come and see me again, my boy, " said the old gentleman, kindly. "Youhave been a good deal of company for me to-night. "

"I am glad of it, sir. "

"I think you might find something better to do than selling papers. "

"I wish I could, sir. "

"Come and dine with me again this day week, and I may have something totell you. "

"Thank you, sir. "

Feeling in his pocket to see that his dollar was safe, Frank set out towalk down-town, repairing to the lodging-house, where he met Dick, andastonished that young man by the recital of his adventures. 

"It takes you to get round, Frank, " he said. "I wonder I don't getinvited to dine on Madison avenue. "

"I give it up, " said Frank. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A NEWSBOY'S EXPERIENCES. 

Frank slept that night at the lodging-house, and found a much better bedthan he had been provided with by his late employer. He was up brightand early the next morning, and purchased a stock of morning papers. These he succeeded in selling during the forenoon, netting a profit ofthirty cents. It was not much, but he was satisfied. At any rate he wasa good deal better off than when in the employ of Mr. Mills. Of coursehe had to economize strictly, but the excellent arrangements of thelodging-house helped him to do this. Twelve cents provided him withlodging and breakfast. At noon, in company with his friend Dick, he wentto a cheap restaurant, then to be found in Ann street, near Park row, and for fifteen cents enjoyed a dinner of two courses. The firstconsisted of a plate of beef, with a potato and a wedge of bread, costing ten cents, and the second, a piece of apple-pie. 

"That's a good square meal, " said Dick, in a tone of satisfaction. "Ioughter get one every day, but sometimes I don't have the money. "

"I should think you could raise fifteen cents a day for that purpose, Dick. "

"Well, so I could; but then you see I save my money sometimes to go tothe Old Bowery, or Tony Pastor's, in the evenin'. "

"I would like to go, too, but I wouldn't give up my dinner. A boy that'sgrowing needs enough to eat. "

"I guess you're right, " said Dick. "We'll go to dinner together everyday, if you say so. "

"All right, Dick; I should like your company. "

About two o'clock in the afternoon, as Frank was resting on a bench inthe City-Hall Park, a girl of ten approached him. Frank recognized heras an inmate of the tenement-house where Mills, his late employer, lived. 

"Do you want to see me?" asked Frank, observing that she was lookingtowards him. 

"You're the boy that went round with the blind man, aint you?" sheasked. 

"Yes. "

"He wants you to come back. "

Frank was rather surprised, but concluded that Mills had difficulty inobtaining a boy to succeed him. This was not very remarkable, considering the niggardly pay attached to the office. 

"Did he send you to find me?" asked our hero. 

"Yes; he says you needn't pass that money if you'll come back. "

"Tell him that I don't want to come back, " said Frank, promptly. "I cando better working for myself. "

"He wants to know what you are doing, " continued the girl. 

"Does he? You can tell him that I am a newsboy. "

"He says if you don't come back he'll have you arrested for stealingmoney from him. You mustn't be mad with me. That's what he told me tosay. "

"I don't blame you, " said Frank, hotly; "but you can tell him that he isa liar. "

"Oh, I wouldn't dare to tell him that; he would beat me. "

"How can he do that, when he can't see where you are?"

"I don't know how it is, but he can go right up to where you are just aswell as if he could see. "

"So he can. He's a humbug and a fraud. His eyes may not be very good, but he can see for all that. He pretends to be blind so as to makemoney. "

"That's what mother and I think, " said the girl. "So you won't comeback?"

"Not much. He can hire some other boy, and starve him. He won't get me. "

"Aint you afraid he'll have you arrested for stealing?" asked the girl. 

"If he tries that I'll expose him for wanting me to pass a counterfeitnote. I never took a cent from him. "

"He'll be awful mad, " said the little girl. 

"Let him. If he had treated me decently I would have stayed with him. Now I'm glad I left him. "

Mills was indeed furious when, by degrees, he had drawn from his youngmessenger what Frank had said. He was sorry to lose him, for he was themost truthful and satisfactory guide he had ever employed, and he nowregretted that he had driven him away by his unreasonable exactions. Heconsidered whether it would be worth while to have Frank arrested on afalse charge of theft, but was restrained by the fear that he wouldhimself be implicated in passing counterfeit money, that is, inintention. He succeeded in engaging another boy, who really stole fromhim, and finally secured a girl, for whose services, however, he wasobliged to pay her mother twenty cents every time she went out with him. Mean and miserly as he was, he agreed to this with reluctance, and onlyas a measure of necessity. 

As he became more accustomed to his new occupation Frank succeededbetter. He was a boy of considerable energy, and was on the alert forcustomers. It was not long before his earnings exceeded those of DickRafferty, who was inclined to take things easily. 

One evening Dick was lamenting that he could not go to the Old Bowery. 

"There's a bully play, Frank, " he said. "There's a lot of fightin' init. "

"What is it called, Dick?"

"'The Scalpers of the Plains. ' There's five men murdered in the firstact. Oh, it's elegant!"

"Why don't you go, then, Dick?"

"Cause I'm dead-broke--busted. That's why. I aint had much luck thisweek, and it took all my money to pay for my lodgin's and grub. "

"Do you want very much to go to the theatre, Dick?"

"Of course I do; but it aint no use. My credit aint good, and I haint nomoney in the bank. "

"How much does it cost?"

"Fifteen cents, in the top gallery. "

"Can you see there?"

"Yes, it's rather high up; but a feller with good eyes can see all hewants to there. "

"I'll tell you what I'll do, Dick. You have been a good friend to me, and I'll take you at my expense. "

"You will? To-night?"

"Yes. "

"You're a reg'lar trump. We'll have a stavin' time. Sometime, when I'mflush, I'll return the compliment. "

So the two boys went. They were at the doors early, and secured a frontseat in the gallery. The performance was well adapted to please thetaste of a boy, and they enjoyed it exceedingly. Dick was uproarious inhis applause whenever a man was killed. 

"Seems to me you like to see men killed, Dick, " said his friend. 

"Yes, it's kinder excitin'. "

"I don't like that part so well as some others, " said Frank. 

"It's' a stavin' play, aint it?" asked Dick, greatly delighted. 

Frank assented. 

"I'll tell you what, Frank, " said Dick; "I'd like to be a hunter androam round the plains, killin' bears and Injuns. "

"Suppose they should kill you? That wouldn't suit you so well, wouldit?"

"No, I guess not. But I'd like to be a hunter, wouldn't you?"

"No, I would rather live in New York. I would like to make a journey tothe West if I had money enough; but I would leave the hunting to othermen. "

Dick, however, did not agree with his more sensible companion. Many boyslike him are charmed with the idea of a wild life in the forest, andsome have been foolish enough to leave good homes, and, providingthemselves with what they considered necessary, have set out on ajourney in quest of the romantic adventures which in stories had firedtheir imaginations. If their wishes could be realized it would not belong before the romance would fade out, and they would long for the goodhomes, which they had never before fully appreciated. 

When the week was over, Frank found that he had lived within his means, as he had resolved to do; but he had not done much more. He began witha dollar which he had received from Mr. Bowen, and now he had a dollarand a quarter. There was a gain of twenty-five cents. There would havebeen a little more if he had not gone to the theatre with Dick; but thishe did not regret. He felt that he needed some amusement, and he wishedto show his gratitude to his friend for various kind services. The timehad come to accept Mr. Bowen's second dinner invitation. As Frank lookedat his shabby clothes he wished there were a good pretext for declining, but he reflected that this would not be polite, and that the oldgentleman would make allowances for his wardrobe. He brushed up hisclothes as well as he could, and obtained a "_boss shine_" from Dick. Then he started for the house on Madison avenue. 

"I'll lend you my clo'es if you want 'em, " said Dick. 

"There are too many spots of blacking on them, Dick. As I'm a newsboy, it wouldn't look appropriate. I shall have to make mine answer. "

"I'll shine up the blackin' spots if you want me to. "

"Never mind, Dick. I'll wait till next time for your suit. "

CHAPTER IX. 

VICTOR DUPONT. 

As Frank was walking on Madison avenue, a little before reaching thehouse of Mr. Bowen he met a boy of his own age, whom he recognized. Victor Dupont had spent the previous summer at the hotel in the countryvillage where Frank had lived until he came to the city. Victor wasproud of his social position, but time hung so heavily upon his hands inthe country that he was glad to keep company with the village boys. Frank and he had frequently gone fishing together, and had beenassociated in other amusements, so that they were for the time quiteintimate. The memories of home and past pleasures thronged upon our heroas he met Victor, and his face flushed with pleasure. 

"Why, Victor, " he said, eagerly, extending his hand, "how glad I am tosee you!"

Frank forgot that intimacy in the country does not necessarily lead tointimacy in the city, and he was considerably surprised when Victor, notappearing to notice his offered hand, said coldly, "I don't think Iremember you. "

"Don't remember me!" exclaimed Frank, amazed. "Why, I am Frank Kavanagh!Don't you remember how much we were together last summer, and what goodtimes we had fishing and swimming together?"

"Yes, I believe I do remember you now, " drawled Victor, still notoffering his hand, or expressing any pleasure at the meeting. "When didyou come to the city?"

"I have been here two or three weeks, " replied Frank. 

"Oh, indeed! Are you going to remain?"

"Yes, if I can earn a living. "

Victor scanned Frank's clothes with a critical, and evidently rathercontemptuous, glance. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Are you in a store?"

"No; I am selling papers. "

"A newsboy!" said Victor, with a curve of the lip. 

"Yes, " answered Frank, his pleasure quite chilled by Victor's manner. 

"Are you doing well?" asked Victor, more from curiosity than interest. 

"I am making my expenses. "

"How do you happen to be in this neighborhood? I suppose you sell papersdown-town. "

"Yes, but I am invited to dinner. "

"Not here--on the avenue!" ejaculated Victor. 

"Yes, " answered Frank, enjoying the other's surprise. 

"Where?"

Frank mentioned the number. 

"Why, that is next to my house. Mr. Bowen lives there. "

"Yes. "

"Perhaps you know some of the servants, " suggested Victor. 

"I know one, " said Frank, smiling, for he read Victor's thoughts; "butmy invitation comes from Mr. Bowen. "

"Did you ever dine there before?" asked Victor, puzzled. 

"Yes, last week. "

"You must excuse my mentioning it, but I should hardly think you wouldlike to sit down at a gentleman's table in that shabby suit. "

"I don't, " answered Frank; "but I have no better. "

"Then you ought to decline the invitation. "

"I would, but for appearing impolite. "

"It seems very strange that Mr. Bowen should invite a newsboy todinner. "

"Perhaps if you'd mention what you think of it, " said Frank, somewhatnettled, "he would recall the invitation. "

"Oh, it's nothing to me, " said Victor; "but I thought I'd mention it, asI know more of etiquette than you do. "

"You are very considerate, " said Frank, with a slight tinge of sarcasmin his tone. 

By this time he had reached the house of Mr. Bowen, and the two boysparted. 

Frank could not help thinking a little about what Victor had said. Hissuit, as he looked down at it, seemed shabbier than ever. Again itoccurred to him that perhaps Mr. Bowen had forgotten the invitation, andthis would make it very awkward for him. As he waited for the door toopen he decided that, if it should appear that he was not expected, hewould give some excuse, and go away. 

Susan opened the door. 

"Mr. Bowen invited me to come here to dinner to-night, " began Frank, rather nervously. 

"Yes, you are expected, " said Susan, very much to his relief. "Wipe yourfeet, and come right in. "

Frank obeyed. 

"You are to go upstairs and get ready for dinner, " said Susan, and sheled the way to the same chamber into which our hero had been ushered theweek before. 

"There won't be much getting ready, " thought Frank. "However, I can staythere till I hear the bell ring. "

As he entered the room he saw a suit of clothes and some underclothinglying on the bed. 

"They are for you, " said Susan, laconically. 

"For me!" exclaimed Frank, in surprise. 

"Yes, put them on, and when you come down to dinner Mr. Bowen will seehow they fit. "

"Is it a present from him?" asked Frank, overwhelmed with surprise andgratitude, for he could see that the clothes were very handsome. 

"Well, they aint from me, " said Susan, "so it's likely they come fromhim. Don't be too long, for Mr. Bowen doesn't like to have any one lateto dinner. "

Susan had been in the service of her present mistress fifteen years, andwas a privileged character. She liked to have her own way; but hadsterling qualities, being neat, faithful, and industrious. 

"I wonder whether I am awake or dreaming, " thought Frank, when he wasleft alone. "I shouldn't like to wake up and find it was all a dream. "

He began at once to change his shabby clothes for the new ones. Hefound that the articles provided were a complete outfit, includingshirt, collar, cuffs, stockings; in fact, everything that was needful. The coat, pants, and vest were a neat gray, and proved to be anexcellent fit. In the bosom of the shirt were neat studs, and the cuffswere supplied with sleeve-buttons to correspond. When Frank stood beforethe glass, completely attired, he hardly knew himself. He was as welldressed as his aristocratic acquaintance, Victor Dupont, and looked morelike a city boy than a boy bred in the country. 

"I never looked so well in my life, " thought our young hero, complacently. "How kind Mr. Bowen is!"

Frank did not know it; but he was indebted for this gift to Susan'ssuggestion. When her master told her in the morning that Frank wascoming to dinner, she said, "It's a pity the boy hadn't some betterclothes. "

"I didn't notice his clothes, " said Mr. Bowen. "Are they shabby?"

"Yes; and they are almost worn out. They don't look fit for one who isgoing to sit at your table. "

"Bless my soul! I never thought of that. You think he needs some newclothes. "

"He needs them badly. "

"I will call at Baldwin's, and order some ready-made; but I don't knowhis size. "

"He's about two inches shorter than you, Mr. Bowen. Tell 'em that, andthey will know. He ought to have shirts and stockings, too. "

"So he shall, " said the old man, quite interested. "He shall have a fullrig-out from top to toe. Where shall I go for the shirts and things?"

Susan had a nephew about Frank's age, and she was prepared to give thenecessary information. The old gentleman, who had no business to attendto, was delighted to have something to fill up his time. He went outdirectly after breakfast, or as soon as he had read the morning paper, and made choice of the articles already described, giving strictinjunctions that they should be sent home immediately. 

This was the way Frank got his new outfit. 

When our hero came downstairs Mr. Bowen was waiting eagerly to see thetransformation. The result delighted him. 

"Why, I shouldn't have known you!" he exclaimed, lifting both hands. "Ihad no idea new clothes would change you so much. "

"I don't know how to thank you, sir, " said Frank, gratefully. 

"I never should have thought of it if it hadn't been for Susan. "

"Then I thank you, Susan, " said Frank, offering his hand to the girl, asshe entered the room. 

Susan was pleased. She liked to be appreciated; and she noted withsatisfaction the great improvement in Frank's appearance. 

"You are quite welcome, " she said; "but it was master's money that paidfor the clothes. "

"It was your kindness that made him think of it, " said Frank. 

From that moment Susan became Frank's fast friend. We generally likethose whom we have benefited, if our services are suitablyacknowledged. 

CHAPTER X. 

A NEW PROSPECT. 

"Well, Frank, and how is your business?" asked the old gentleman, whenthey were sitting at the dinner-table. 

"Pretty good, sir. "

"Are you making your expenses?"

"Yes, sir; just about. "

"That is well. Mind you never run into debt. That is a bad plan. "

"I shan't have to now, sir. If I had had to buy clothes for myself, Imight have had to. "

"Do you find the shirts and stockings fit you?"

"Yes, sir; they are just right. "

"I bought half a dozen of each. Susan will give you the bundle when youare ready to go. If they had not been right, they could have beenexchanged. "

"Thank you, sir. I shall feel rich with so many clothes. "

"Where do you sleep, Frank?"

"At the Newsboy's Lodging-House. "

"Is there any place there where you can keep your clothes?"

"Yes, sir. Each boy has a locker to himself. "

"That is a good plan. It would be better if you had a room to yourself. "

"I can't afford it yet, sir. The lodging-house costs me only forty-twocents a week for a bed, and I could not get a room for that. "

"Bless my soul! That is very cheap. Really, I think I could save moneyby giving up my house, and going there to sleep. "

"I don't think you would like it, sir, " said Frank, smiling. 

"Probably not. Now, Frank, I am going to mention a plan I have for you. You don't want to be a newsboy all your life. "

"No, sir; I think I should get tired of it by the time I was fifty. "

"My friend Thompson, the gentleman who was walking with me when wefirst saw you, is an officer of the American District Telegraph Company. They employ a large number of boys at their various offices to runerrands; and, in fact, to do anything that is required of them. Probablyyou have seen some of the boys going about the city. "

"Yes, sir; they have a blue uniform. "

"Precisely. How would you like to get a situation of that kind?"

"Very much, sir, " said Frank, promptly. 

"Would you like it better than being a newsboy?"

"Yes, sir. "

"My friend Thompson, to whom I spoke on the subject, says he will takeyou on in a few weeks, provided you will qualify yourself for the post. "

"I will do that, sir, if you will tell me how. "

"You must be well acquainted with the city in all its parts, know thelocations of different hotels, prominent buildings, have a faireducation, and be willing to make yourself generally useful. You willhave to satisfy the superintendent that you are fitted for theposition. "

"I think my education will be sufficient, " said Frank, "for I alwayswent to school till just before I came to the city. I know somethingabout the lower part of the city, but I will go about every day duringthe hours when I am not selling papers till I am familiar with all partsof it. "

"Do so, and when there is a vacancy I will let you know. "

"How much pay shall I get, sir, if they accept me?"

"About three dollars a week at first, and more when you get familiarwith your duties. No doubt money will also be given you by some whoemploy you, though you will not be allowed to ask for any fees. Verylikely you will get nearly as much in this way as from your salary. "

Frank's face expressed satisfaction. 

"That will be bully, " he said. 

"I beg pardon, " said the old gentleman, politely. "What did youremark?"

"That will be excellent, " said Frank, blushing. 

"I thought you spoke of a bully. "

"It was a word I learned from Dick Rafferty, " said Frank, feeling ratherembarrassed. 

"And who is Dick Rafferty?"

"One of my friends at the Lodging-House. "

"Unless his education is better than yours I would not advise you tolearn any of his words. "

"I beg your pardon, sir. "

"You must excuse my offering you advice. It is the privilege of the oldto advise the young. "

"I shall always be glad to follow your advice, Mr. Bowen, " said Frank. 

"Good boy, good boy, " said the old gentleman, approvingly. "I wish allboys were like you. Some think they know more than their grandfathers. There's one of that kind who lives next door. "

"His name is Victor Dupont, isn't it, sir?"

Mr. Bowen looked surprised. "How is it that you know his name?" heasked. 

"We were together a good deal last summer. His family boarded at thehotel in the country village where I used to live. He and I wentbathing and fishing together. "

"Indeed! Have you seen him since you came to the city?"

"I met him as I was on my way here this afternoon. "

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes, sir; though at first he pretended he didn't remember me. "

"Just like him. He is a very proud and conceited boy. Did you tell himyou were coming to dine with me?"

"Yes, sir. He seemed very much surprised, as I had just told him I was anewsboy. He said he was surprised that you should invite a newsboy todine with you. "

"I would much rather have you dine with me than him. What more did hesay?"

"He said he shouldn't think I would like to go out to dinner with such ashabby suit. "

"We have removed that objection, " said Mr. Bowen, smiling. 

"Yes, sir, " said Frank; "I think Victor will treat me more respectfullynow when he meets me. "

"The respect of such a boy is of very little importance. He judges onlyby the outside. "

At an early hour Frank took his leave, promising to call again beforelong. 

"Where can I send to you if you are wanted for a telegraph boy?" askedMr. Bowen. 

"A letter to me addressed to the care of Mr. O'Connor at thelodging-house will reach me, " said Frank. 

"Write it down for me, " said the old gentleman. "You will find writingmaterials on yonder desk. "

When Frank made his appearance at the lodging-house in his new suit, with two bundles, one containing his old clothes, and the other hisextra supply of underclothing, his arrival made quite a sensation. 

"Have you come into a fortun'?" asked one boy. 

"Did you draw a prize in the Havana lottery?" asked another. 

"Have you been playing policy?" asked a third. 

"You're all wrong, " said Dick Rafferty. "Frank's been adopted by a richman upon Madison avenue. Aint that so, Frank?"

"Something like it, " said Frank. "There's a gentleman up there who hasbeen very kind to me. "

"If he wants to adopt another chap, spake a good word for me, " saidPatsy Reagan. 

"Whisht, Patsy, he don't want no Irish bog-trotter, " said Phil Donovan. 

"You're Irish yourself, Phil, now, and you can't deny it. "

"What if I am? I aint no bog-trotter--I'm the son of an Irish count. Youcan see by my looks that I belong to the gintry. "

"Then the gintry must have red hair and freckles, Phil. There aint nochance for you. "

"Tell us all about it, Frank, " said Dick. "Shure I'm your best friend, and you might mention my name to the ould gintleman if he's got any moregood clothes to give away. "

"I will with pleasure, Dick, if I think it will do any good. "

"You won't put on no airs because you're better dressed than the likesof us?"

"I shall wear my old clothes to-morrow, Dick. I can't afford to wear mybest clothes every day. "

"I can, " said Dick, dryly, which was quite true, as his best clotheswere the only ones he had. 

Bright and early the next morning Frank was about his work, withoutbetraying in any way the proud consciousness of being the owner of twosuits. He followed Mr. Bowen's advice, and spent his leisure hours inexploring the city in its various parts, so that in the course of amonth he knew more about it than boys who had lived in it all theirlives. He told Dick his object in taking these long walks, and urged himto join him in the hope of winning a similar position; but Dick decidedthat it was too hard work. He preferred to spend his leisure time inplaying marbles or pitching pennies. 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE TELEGRAPH BOY. 

Six weeks later Frank Kavanagh, through the influence of his patron, found himself in the uniform of a District Telegraph Messenger. The bluesuit, and badge upon the cap, are familiar to every city resident. Theuniform is provided by the company, but must be paid for by weeklyinstalments, which are deducted from the wages of the wearers. Thiswould have seriously embarrassed Frank but for an opportune gift of tendollars from Mr. Bowen, which nearly paid the expense of his suit. 

[Illustration: FRANK, THE TELEGRAPH BOY. ]

Frank was employed in one of the up-town offices of the company. For theinformation of such of my young readers as live in the country it may beexplained that large numbers of houses and offices in the city areconnected with the offices of the District Telegraph by machines, through which, at any time in the day or night, a messenger may besummoned for any purpose. It is only necessary to raise a knob in thebox provided, and a bell is rung in the office of the company. Of coursethere is more or less transient business besides that of the regularsubscribers. 

Boys, on arriving at the office, seat themselves, and are called upon inorder. A boy just returned from an errand hangs up his hat, and takeshis place at the foot of the line. He will not be called upon again tillall who are ahead of him have been despatched in one direction oranother. 

Frank was curious to know what would be his first duty, and waitedeagerly for his turn to come. 

At length it came. 

"Go to No. -- Madison avenue, " said the superintendent. 

A few minutes later Frank was ascending the steps of a handsomebrown-stone residence. 

"Oh, you're the telegraph boy, " said a colored servant. "You're to goupstairs into missus's sitting-room. "

Upon entering, Frank found himself in the presence of a rather stoutlady, who was reclining on a sofa. 

He bowed politely, and waited for his instructions. 

"I hope you are a trustworthy boy, " said the stout lady. 

"I hope so, ma'am. "

"Come here, Fido, " said the lady. 

A little mass of hair, with two red eyes peeping out, rose from thecarpet and waddled towards the lady, for Fido was about as stout as hismistress. 

"Do you like dogs?" asked Mrs. Leroy, for this was the lady's name. 

"Yes, ma'am, " answered Frank, wondering what that had to do with hiserrand. 

"I sent for you to take my sweet darling out for an airing. His healthrequires that he should go out every day. I generally take him myself, but this morning I have a severe headache, and do not feel equal to thetask. My dear little pet, will you go out with this nice boy?"

Fido looked gravely at Frank and sneezed. 

"I hope the darling hasn't got cold, " said Mrs. Leroy, with solicitude. "My lad, what is your name?"

"Frank Kavanagh, ma'am. "

"Will you take great care of my little pet, Frank?"

"I will try to, madam. Where do you want him to go?"

"To Madison Park. He always likes the park, because it is so gay. Whenyou get there you may sit down on one of the benches and give him timeto rest. "

"Yes, ma'am. How long would you like me to stay out with him?"

"About an hour and a half. Have you a watch?"

"No; but I can tell the time by the clock in front of the Fifth-avenueHotel. "

"To be sure. I was going to lend you my watch. "

"Shall I start now?"

"Yes. Here is the string. Don't make Fido go too fast. He is stout, andcannot walk fast. You will be sure to take great care of him?"

"Yes, madam. "

"And you keep watch that no bad man carries off my Fido. I used to sendhim out by one of the girls, till I found that she ill-treated the poorthing. Of course I couldn't stand that, so I sent her packing, I cantell you. "

"I will try to follow your directions, " said Frank, who wanted to laughat the lady's ridiculous devotion to her ugly little favorite. 

"That is right. You look like a good boy. I will give you something foryourself when you come back. "

"Thank you, ma'am, " said Frank, who was better pleased with this remarkthan any the lady had previously made. 

Mrs. Leroy kissed Fido tenderly, and consigned him to the care of ourhero. 

"I suppose, " said Frank to himself, "that I am the dog's nurse. It israther a queer office; but as long as I am well paid for it I don'tmind. "

When Fido found himself on the sidewalk he seemed disinclined to move;but after a while, by dint of coaxing, he condescended to waddle alongat Frank's heels. 

After a while they reached Madison Park, and Frank, according to hisinstructions, took a seat, allowing Fido to curl up at his side. 

"This isn't very hard work, " thought Frank. "I wish I had a book orpaper to read, to while away the time. "

While he was sitting there Victor Dupont came sauntering along. 

"Halloa!" he exclaimed, in surprise, as he recognized Frank, "is thatyou?"

"I believe it is, " answered Frank, with a smile. 

"Are you a telegraph boy?"

"Yes. "

"I thought you were a newsboy?"

"So I was; but I have changed my business. "

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of a dog, " said Frank, laughing. 

"Is that the dog?"

"Yes. "

"It's a beastly little brute. What's its name?"

"Fido. "

"Who does it belong to?"

Frank answered. 

"I know, " said Victor; "it's a fat lady living on the avenue. I haveseen her out often with little pug. How do you feel, Fido?" and Victorbegan to pull the hair of the lady's favorite. 

"Don't do that, Victor, " remonstrated Frank. 

"Why not?"

"Mrs. Leroy wouldn't like it. "

"Mrs. Leroy isn't here. "

"I am, " said Frank, emphatically, "and that is the same thing. "

Victor, by way of reply, pinched Fido's ear, and the little animalsqueaked his disapproval. 

"Look here, Victor, " said Frank, decidedly, "you must stop that. "

"Must I?" sneered Victor, contemptuously. "'Suppose I don't?"

"Then I shall punch you, " said Frank, quietly. 

"You are impertinent, " said Victor, haughtily. "You needn't put on suchairs because you are nurse to a puppy. "

"That is better than being a puppy myself, " retorted Frank. 

"Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Victor, quickly. 

"No, unless you choose to think the remark fits you. "

"I have a great mind to give you a thrashing, " said Victor, furiously. 

"Of course I should sit still and let you do it, " said Frank, calmly. "Fido is under my care, and I can't have him teased. That is right, isn't it?"

"I did wrong to notice you, " said Victor. "You are only a dog's nurse. "

Frank laughed. 

"You are right, " he said. "It is new business for me, and though it iseasy enough I can't say I like it. However, I am in the service of theTelegraph Company, and must do whatever is required. "

Victor walked away, rather annoyed because he could not tease Frank. 

"The boy has no pride, " he said to himself, "or he wouldn't live out totake care of dogs. But, then, it is suitable enough for him. "

"Is that dawg yours?" asked a rough-looking man, taking his seat on thebench near Frank. 

"No, sir. "

"How old is it?"

"I don't know. "

"Looks like a dawg I used to own. Let me take him. "

"I would rather not, " said Frank, coldly. "It belongs to a lady who isvery particular. "

"Oh, you won't, won't you?" said the man, roughly. "Danged if I don'tthink it is my dawg, after all;" and the man seized Fido, and was aboutto carry him away. 

But Frank seized him by the arm, and called for help. 

"What's the matter?" asked a park policeman who, unobserved by either, had come up behind. 

"This man is trying to steal my dog, " said Frank. 

"The dog is mine, " said the thief, boldly. 

"Drop him!" said the officer, authoritatively. "I have seen that dogbefore. He belongs to neither of you. "

"That is true, " said Frank. "It belongs to Mrs. Leroy, of Madisonavenue, and I am employed to take it out for an airing. "

"It's a lie!" said the man, sullenly. 

"If you are seen again in this neighborhood, " said the policeman, "Ishall arrest you. Now clear out!"

The would-be thief slunk away, and Frank thanked the officer. 

"That man is a dog-stealer, " said the policeman. "His business is tosteal dogs, and wait till a reward is offered. Look out for him!"

CHAPTER XII. 

A WAYWARD SON. 

When Frank carried Fido back to his mistress, he thought it his duty totell Mrs. Leroy of the attempt to abduct the favorite. 

Mrs. Leroy turned pale. 

"Did the man actually take my little pet?" she asked. 

"Yes, ma'am. He said it was his dog. "

"The horrid brute! How could I have lived without my darling?" and thelady caressed her favorite tenderly. "How did you prevent him?"

"I seized him by the arm, and held him till a policeman came up. "

"You are a brave boy, " said Mrs. Leroy, admiringly. "But for you, Fidowould have been stolen. "

"The policeman said the man was a professional dog-stealer. He stealsdogs for the reward which is offered. "

"I was sure I could trust you with my pet, " said Mrs. Leroy. "Youdeserve a reward yourself. "

"I was only doing my duty, ma'am, " said Frank, modestly. 

"It isn't everybody that does that. "

Mrs. Leroy rose, and, going to her bureau, drew an ivory portemonnaiefrom a small upper drawer; from this she extracted a two-dollar bill, and gave it to Frank. 

"This is too much, " said Frank, surprised at the size of the gift. 

"Too much for rescuing my little pet? No, no, I am the best judge ofthat. I wouldn't have lost him for fifty times two dollars. "

"You are very liberal, and I am very much obliged to you, " said Frank. 

"If I send again for a boy to take out Fido, I want you to come. "

"I will if I can, ma'am. "

For several days, though Frank was employed on errands daily, there wasnothing of an unusual character. About eleven o'clock one evening (forFrank had to take his turn at night work) he was sent to a house onWest Thirty-eighth street. On arriving, he was ushered into the presenceof a lady of middle age, whose anxious face betrayed the anxiety thatshe felt. 

"I have a son rather larger and older than you, " she said, "who, to mygreat sorrow, has been led away by evil companions, who have induced himto drink and play cards for money. I will not admit them into my house, but I cannot keep him from seeking them out. He is no doubt with themto-night. "

Frank listened with respectful sympathy, and waited to hear what he wasdesired to do in the matter. 

"The boy's father is dead, " continued Mrs. Vivian, with emotion, "and Icannot fill his place. Fred is unwilling to obey his mother. Hiscompanions have persuaded him that it is unmanly. "

"I would gladly obey my mother if I could have her back, " said Frank. 

"Is your mother dead, then?" inquired Mrs. Vivian, with quick sympathy. 

"I have neither father nor mother, " Frank answered gravely. 

"Poor boy! And yet you do not fall into temptation. "

"I have no time for that, ma'am; I have to earn my living. "

"If I could get Fred to take a position it might be a benefit to him, "said Mrs. Vivian, thoughtfully. "But the question now is, how I may beable to find him. "

"When did you see him last?" asked Frank. 

"About three o'clock this afternoon I gave him seventy-five dollars, andsent him to pay a bill. I was perhaps imprudent to trust him with such asum of money; but for a few days past he has been more steady thanusual, and I thought it would show my confidence in him if I employedhim in such a matter. "

"I should think it would, ma'am. "

"But I am afraid Fred fell in with some of his evil companions, and letthem know that he was well provided with money. That would be enough toexcite their cupidity. "

"Who are the companions you speak of?" asked Frank. 

"Boys, or rather young men, for they are all older than Fred, of lowersocial rank than himself. I don't attach any special importance to that, nor do I object to them on that ground; but they are, I have reason tothink, ill-bred and disreputable. They know Fred to be richer thanthemselves, and induce him to drink and play, in the hope of gettingsome of his money. I have sent for you to go in search of my son. If youfind him you must do your best to bring him home. "

"I will, " said Frank. "Can you give me any idea where he may be found?"

Mrs. Vivian wrote on a card two places, --one a billiard saloon, whichshe had reason to suspect that her son frequented. 

"Now, " said Frank, "will you be kind enough to describe your son to me, so that I may know him when I see him?"

"I will show you his photograph, " said Mrs. Vivian. 

She opened an album, and showed the picture of a boy of seventeen, witha pleasant face, fair complexion, and hair somewhat curly. His foreheadwas high, and he looked gentlemanly and refined. 

"Is he not good-looking?" said the mother. 

"He looks like a gentleman, " said Frank. 

"He would be one if he could throw off his evil associates. Do you thinkyou will know him from the picture?"

"Yes, I think so. Is he tall?"

"Two or three inches taller than you are. You had better take thepicture with you. I have an extra one, which you can put in your pocketto help you identify him. By the way, it will be as well that you shouldbe supplied with money in case it is necessary to bring him home in acab. "

Frank understood what the mother found it difficult to explain. Shefeared that her boy might be the worse for drink. 

She handed our hero a five-dollar bill. 

"I will use it prudently, madam, " said he, "and account to you for all Ido not use. "

"I trust you wholly, " said the lady. "Now go as quickly as possible. "

Frank looked at the two addresses he had on the card. Thebilliard-saloon was on the east side of the city, in an unfashionablelocality. 

"I'll go there first, " he decided. 

Crossing to Third avenue he hailed a car, and rode down-town. Hisknowledge of the city, gained from the walks he took when a newsboy, made it easy for him to find the place of which he was in search. Thoughit was nearly midnight, the saloon was lighted up, and two tables werein use. On the left-hand side, as he entered, was a bar, behind whichstood a man in his shirt-sleeves, who answered the frequent calls fordrinks. He looked rather suspiciously at Frank's uniform when heentered. 

"What do you want?" he asked. "Have you any message for me?"

"No, " said Frank, carelessly. "Let me have a glass of lemonade. "

The bar-keeper's face cleared instantly, and he set about preparing thebeverage required. 

"Won't you have something in it?" he asked. 

"No, sir, " said Frank. 

"You boys are kept out pretty late, " said the bar-keeper, socially. 

"Not every night, " said Frank. "We take turns. "

Frank paid ten cents for his lemonade, and, passing into thebilliard-saloon, sat down and watched a game. He looked around him, butcould not see anything of Fred. In fact, all the players were men. 

Sitting next to him was a young fellow, who was watching the game. 

"Suppose we try a game, " he said to Frank. 

"Not to-night. I came in here to look for a friend, but I guess he isn'there. "

"I've been here two hours. What does your friend look like?"

"That's his picture, " said Frank, displaying the photograph. 

"Oh, yes, " said his new acquaintance, "he is here now. His name is Fred, isn't it?"

"Yes, " answered Frank, eagerly; "I don't see him. Where is he?"

"He's playing cards upstairs, but I don't believe he can tell one cardfrom the other. "

"Been drinking, I suppose, " said Frank, betraying no surprise. 

"I should say so. Do you know the fellows he's with?"

"I am not sure about that. How long has Fred been upstairs?"

"About an hour. He was playing billiards till he couldn't standstraight, and then they went upstairs. "

"Would you mind telling him that there is a friend downstairs who wishesto see him, that is, if you know the way?"

"Oh, yes, I live here. Won't you come up with me?"

"Perhaps I had better, " said Frank, and followed his companion through adoor in the rear, and up a dark and narrow staircase to the streetfloor. 

"It'll be a hard job to get him away, " thought Frank; "but, for hismother's sake, I will do my best. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

A TIMELY RESCUE. 

As Frank entered the room he hastily took in the scene before him. Rounda table sat three young men, of not far from twenty, the fourth sidebeing occupied by Fred Vivian. They were playing cards, and sippingdrinks as they played. Fred Vivian's handsome face was flushed, and hewas nervously excited. His hands trembled as he lifted the glass, andhis wandering, uncertain glances showed that he was not himself. 

"It's your play, Fred, " said his partner. 

Fred picked up a card without looking at it, and threw it down on thetable. 

"That settles it, " said another. "Fred, old boy, you've lost the game. You're another five dollars out. "

Fred fumbled in his pocket for a bill, and it was quickly taken from hishand before he could well see of what value it was. Frank, however, quickly as it was put away, saw that it was a ten. It was clear thatFred was being cheated in the most barefaced manner. 

Frank's entrance was evidently unwelcome to most of the company. 

"What are you bringing in that boy for, John?" demanded a low-browedfellow, with a face like a bull-dog. 

"He is a friend of Fred, " answered John. 

"He's a telegraph boy. He comes here a spy. Fred don't know him. Clearout, boy!"

Frank took no notice of this hostile remark, but walked up to FredVivian. 

"Fred, " said he, thinking it best to speak as if he knew him, "it isgetting late, and your mother is anxious about you. Won't you come homewith me?"

"Who are you?" asked Fred, with drunken gravity. "You aint my mother. "

"I come from your mother. Don't you know me? I am Frank Kavanagh. "

"How do, Frank? Glad to see you, ol' feller. Take a drink. Here, youboy, bring a drink for my frien', Frank Kavanagh. "

The three others looked on disconcerted. They were not ready to partwith Fred yet, having secured only a part of his money. 

"You don't know him, Fred, " said the one who had appropriated theten-dollar bill. "He's only a telegraph boy. "

"I tell you he's my frien', Frank Kav'nagh, " persisted Fred, with anobstinacy not unusual in one in his condition. 

"Well, if he is, let him sit down, and have a glass of something hot. "

"No, I thank you, " said Frank, coldly. "Fred and I are going home. "

"No, you're not, " exclaimed the other, bringing his fist heavily downupon the table. "We won't allow our friend Fred to be kidnapped by a boyof your size, --not much we won't, will we, boys?"

"No! no!" chimed in the other two. 

Fred Vivian looked at them undecided. 

"I guess I'd better go, " he stammered "There's something the matter withmy head. "

"You need another drink to brace you up. Here, John, bring up anotherpunch for Fred. "

Frank saw that unless he got Fred away before drinking any more, hewould not be in a condition to go at all. It was a critical position, but he saw that he must be bold and resolute. 

"You needn't bring Fred anything more, " he said. "He has had enoughalready. "

"I have had enough already, " muttered Fred, mechanically. 

"Boys, are we going to stand this?" said the low-browed young man. "Arewe going to let this telegraph boy interfere with a social party ofyoung gentlemen? I move that we throw him downstairs. "

He half rose as he spoke, but Frank stood his ground. 

"You'd better not try it, " he said quietly, "unless you want to pass thenight in the station-house. "

"What do you mean, you young jackanapes?" said the other angrily. "Whatcharge can you trump up against us?"

"You have been cheating Fred out of his money, " said Frank, firmly. 

"It's a lie! We've been having a friendly game, and he lost. If we'dlost, we would have paid. "

"How much did he lose?"

"Five dollars. "

"And you took ten from him. "

"It's a lie!" repeated the other; but he looked disconcerted. 

"It is true, for I noticed the bill as you took it from him. But it'snot much worse than playing for money with him when he is in nocondition to understand the game. You'd better give him back thatten-dollar bill. "

"I've a great mind to fling you downstairs, you young scamp!"

"You are strong enough to do it, " said Frank, exhibiting no trace offear, "but I think you would be sorry for it afterwards. Come, Fred. "

Though Frank was so much younger and smaller, there was something in hiscalm, self-possessed manner that gave him an ascendency over the weak, vacillating Fred. The latter rose, and, taking our hero's arm, turned toleave the room. 

"Let him go, " said the leader, who had been made uneasy by Frank'sthreat, and saw that it was politic to postpone his further designs uponhis intended victim. "If he chooses to obey a small telegraph boy, hecan. "

"Don't mind him, Fred, " said Frank. "You know I'm your friend. "

"My friend, Frank Kavanagh!" repeated Fred, drowsily. "I'm awful sleepy, Frank. I want to go to bed. "

"You shall go to bed as soon as you get home, Fred. "

"I say, boy, " said the leader, uneasily, "that was all a lie about theten-dollar bill. You didn't see straight. Did he, Bates?"

"Of course he didn't. "

"One lies and the other swears to it, " thought Frank. 

"Nothing will be done about it, " he said, "if you will let Fred alonehereafter. The money you have won from him belongs to his mother, and, unless you keep away from him, she will order your arrest. "

"You're altogether too smart for a boy of your size, " sneered the other. "Take your friend away. We don't care to associate with a milksop, whoallows himself to be ordered around by women and children. "

Fortunately Fred was too drowsy to pay heed to what was being said; infact he was very sleepy, and was anxious to go to bed. Frank got himinto a cab, and in twenty minutes they safely reached his mother's housein Thirty-eighth street. 

Mrs. Vivian was anxiously awaiting the return of the prodigal. 

"O Fred, " she said, "how could you stay away so, when you know howworried I get? You have been drinking, too. "

"This is my friend, Frank Kavanagh, " hiccoughed Fred. 

"Shall I go up and help put him to bed?" asked Frank. 

"Does he require help?" asked Mrs. Vivian, sorrowfully. 

"He has been drinking a good deal. "

"Yes, you may go up. I will lead the way to his chamber. Afterwards Iwant to speak to you. "

"All right. "

"Where did you find him?" asked Mrs. Vivian, when Frank with somedifficulty had prepared his charge for bed. 

"In the billiard-saloon to which you directed me. He was upstairsplaying cards for money. They were cheating him in the most outrageousmanner. "

"I suppose they got all his money. "

"Not all; but they would soon have done so. Here is his pocket-book, which I just took from his pocket. "

"There are twenty dollars left, " said 'Mrs. Vivian, after anexamination. "They must have secured the rest. O my poor boy! Would thatI could shield you from these dangerous companions!"

"I don't think they will trouble him again, Mrs. Vivian. "

"Why not? You do not know them. "

"I told them that, if they came near him, hereafter, you would have themarrested for swindling your son out of money belonging to you. "

"Will that have any effect upon them?"

"Yes, because they know that I am ready to appear as a witness againstthem. "

"Did Fred show any unwillingness to come with you?"

"No; I made him think I was an old acquaintance of his. Besides, he wasfeeling sleepy. "

"You have acted with great judgment for so young a lad, " said Mrs. Vivian. "I wish Fred had a companion like you to influence him for good. Where do you live?"

"At the Newsboys Lodging-House. I cannot afford to hire a room. "

Mrs. Vivian looked thoughtful. 

"Give me your name and address, " she said. 

These she noted down. 

"I won't keep you any longer to-night, " she said, "for you must betired. You will hear from me again. "

"Oh, " said Frank, "I nearly forgot. Here is the balance of the money youhanded me for expenses. "

"Keep it for yourself, " said Mrs. Vivian, "and accept my thanksbesides. "

Though Frank had paid for the cab, there was a balance of nearly twodollars in his hands which he was very glad to keep. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

FRANK MAKES AN EVENING CALL. 

The next day Frank chanced to meet Mrs. Vivian in the street. Sherecognized him at once. 

"I see you are kept busy, " she said, pleasantly. 

"Yes, " answered Frank. "Our business is pretty good just now. How isyour son?"

"He slept well, and woke much refreshed this morning. He is a good boynaturally, but unable to withstand temptation. I have decided to sendhim to the country for a few weeks, to visit a cousin of about his ownage. There he will be secure from temptation, and will have a chance toride. I would have sent him away before, but that it would leave mealone in the house. You told me last evening that you had noboarding-place. "

"My only home is at the lodging-house, " said Frank. 

"How would you like to occupy a room at my house while my son is away?"

"Very much, " said Frank, promptly. 

"I shall find it convenient to have you in the house, and shall feelsafer. "

"I am afraid I shouldn't be a match for an able-bodied burglar, " saidFrank, smiling. 

"Perhaps not; but you could summon a policeman. When can you come andsee me about this arrangement?"

"I am off duty to-night. "

"Very well; I will expect you. Fred will not go away till to-morrow, andyou will have a chance to see him under more favorable circumstancesthan last evening. "

"Thank you very much for your kind invitation, " said Frank, politely. 

Mrs. Vivian bade him good-morning, very favorably impressed with hismanners and deportment. 

Frank looked upon the proposal made him by Mrs. Vivian as a piece ofgreat good-fortune. In his new position, excellent as were the beds atthe lodging-house, he found it inconvenient to go there to sleep. Onceor twice, on account of the late hour at which he was released fromduty, he was unable to secure admittance, and had to pay fifty cents fora bed at a hotel on the European system. He had for some time beenthinking seriously of hiring a room; but the probable expense deterredhim. At Mrs. Vivian's he would have nothing to pay. 

In the evening he changed his uniform for the neat suit given him by Mr. Bowen, and about eight o'clock rang the bell of the house inThirty-eighth street. 

He was at once ushered into the presence of Mrs. Vivian and her son. 

"I am glad to see you, my young friend, " said Mrs. Vivian, glancing withapproval at the neat appearance of her young visitor. "Fred, this is theyoung man who brought you home last night. "

"I am much obliged to you, " said Fred Vivian, offering his hand toFrank. "I am ashamed of having been found in such a place. "

"I don't think the young men with you were very much your friends, " saidFrank; "I detected one in cheating you. "

"You mean at cards?"

"I don't mean that, though I presume they did; but you handed aten-dollar bill to one of them, and he took it as a five. "

"Are you sure of that?" asked Fred, his face flushing with indignation. 

"Yes, I saw the number of the bill, though he put it away very quickly. "

"And I had been treating that fellow all the afternoon! I gave him agood dinner, too. "

"Are you surprised at such treatment from such a person?" asked hismother. "I should have expected it. "

"I will never notice the fellow again as long as I live, " said Fred, whoseemed a good deal impressed by his companion's treachery. "Why, it'snothing better than robbery. "

"You have given it the right name, Fred, " said his mother, quietly. 

"He ought to give the money back, " said Fred. 

"Let it go, my son. I am willing to lose it, if it severs allacquaintance between you and your unworthy companions. "

"Have I ever met you before?" asked Fred, turning to Frank. 

"Not before last evening. "

"I thought you spoke of yourself as an old acquaintance. "

"That was to induce you to come with me, " explained Frank. "I hope youwill excuse the deception. "

"Certainly I will. I had been drinking so much that it was quitenecessary to treat me as a child; but I don't mean to be caught in sucha scrape again. "

"May you keep that resolution, Fred!" said his mother, earnestly. 

"I will try to, mother. "

"My mother tells me that you are going to take my place while I am inthe country, " said Fred, turning to Frank. 

"I shall be very glad to do so, " said our hero. "I never had such a goodhome before. "

"You are a telegraph boy, are you not?" asked Fred. 

"Yes, " answered Frank. 

"Tell me about it. Is it hard work?"

"Not hard, but sometimes when I have been kept pretty busy, I get tiredtowards night. "

"I should think it would be rather good fun, " said Fred. 

"Do you think you would like it?" asked his mother, with a smile. 

"I might like it for about half a day, but all day would be too much forme. However, I am too old for such a position. "

Fred had no false pride, and though he knew that Frank was in a socialposition considerably below his own, he treated him as an equal. Thosewho are secure of their own position are much more likely to avoid"putting on airs" than those who have recently been elevated in thesocial scale. Frank was destined that same evening to see the contrastbetween true and false gentility. 

It so happened that Victor Dupont, already mentioned, was anacquaintance and former school-fellow of Fred Vivian. It also chancedthat he selected this evening for a call, as the Vivians stood very highsocially, being an old family. Victor was rather proud of hisacquaintance with them, and took occasion to call frequently. 

As he was ushered into the room he did not at first recognize Frank inhis new clothes. 

"Victor, this is a friend of mine, Frank Kavanagh, " said Fred, introducing his two visitors. "Frank, let me introduce my oldschool-fellow Victor Dupont. "

"We are already acquainted, " said Frank. "Good-evening, Victor. "

Victor stared in amusing astonishment at Frank. 

"How do you happen to be here?" asked Victor, brusquely. 

"By Mrs. Vivian's kind invitation, " said Frank, quite at ease. 

"How do you two happen to know each other?" asked Fred. 

"We met in the country last summer, " said Frank, finding Victor did notanswer. 

"I suppose you had a very good time together, " said Mrs. Vivian. 

"Our acquaintance was very slight, " said Victor superciliously. 

"We must have gone fishing together at least a dozen times, " said Frank, quietly. 

"How in the world did the fellow thrust himself in here?" said Victor tohimself. "They can't know his low position. "

In the amiable desire of enlightening the Vivians Victor took an earlyopportunity to draw Fred aside. 

"Have you known Frank Kavanagh long?" he asked. 

"Not very long. "

"Do you know that he is a telegraph boy?"

"Oh, yes, " answered Fred, smiling. 

"He used to be a newsboy, and sell papers in the lower part of thecity. "

"I didn't know that, " said Fred indifferently. 

"I must say that I am rather surprised to see him here. "

"Why?" asked Fred, with provoking calmness. 

"Oh, you know, he is much below us in a social point of view. "

"I know that he is a poor boy; but some of our most prominent men wereonce poor boys. "

"I don't believe in mixing up different ranks. "

"You didn't think so in the country last summer. "

"Oh, well, a fellow must have some company, and there was no better tobe had. "

"You will probably be surprised to hear that your old acquaintance is tolive here while I am in the country. I am going away to-morrow to spenda few weeks with my cousin. "

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Victor, in surprise and annoyance. "Perhapshe is to be here as an errand boy?" he suggested, evidently relieved bythe idea. 

"Oh, no; he will be treated in all respects as one of the family. "

"Hadn't you better tell your mother that he was once a newsboy? Shemight recall the invitation. "

"It would make no difference with her. It seems to me, Victor, you areprejudiced against Frank. "

"No, I am not; but I like to see newsboys and telegraph messengers keeptheir place. "

"So do I. I hope Frank will keep his place till he can find a betterone. "

"That isn't what I meant. How can you associate with such a boy on anequality?"

"Because he seems well-bred and gentlemanly. "

"I don't believe he gets more than three or four dollars a week, " saidVictor, contemptuously. 

"Then I really hope his wages will soon be increased. "

Victor saw that he could do Frank no harm, and was forced, out ofpolicy, to treat our hero with more politeness than he wished. 

When Frank rose to go, Mrs. Vivian desired him to send round his trunk, and take possession of his room the next day. 

"She doesn't suspect that I never owned a trunk, " thought Frank. "I willbuy one to-morrow, though I haven't got much to put in it. "

CHAPTER XV. 

AT WALLACK'S THEATRE. 

The next day Frank devoted what small leisure he had to the purchase ofa trunk, in which he stored his small supply of clothing, leaving out, however, the clothes in which he made his first appearance in the city. These he gave to his friend, Dick Rafferty, to whom they were a welcomegift, being considerably better than those he usually wore. Dick might, out of his earnings, have dressed better, but when he had any extramoney it went for some kind of amusement. He was one of the steadiestpatrons of the Old Bowery, and was often to be seen in the gallery ofother places of amusement. He was surprised to hear of Frank's intendedremoval from the lodging-house. 

"I say, Frank, " he said, "you're gettin' on fast. Here you are, goin' tolive in a tip-top house up-town. You'll be a reg'lar swell. "

"I hope not, Dick. I don't like swells very much. "

"You won't notice your old friends bimeby. "

"That shows you don't know me, Dick. I shall be glad to notice youwhenever we meet. "

"I don't see why I can't be in luck too, " said Dick. "I wish I couldfind some rich lady to give me a room in her house. "

"You'll have to get some new clothes first, Dick. "

"I know I aint got a genteel look, " said Dick, surveying his well-wornclothes, soiled and ragged; "but it wouldn't be no use if I was to dressin velvet. "

"Unless you kept your face clean, " suggested Frank. 

"A feller can't be washin' his face all the time, " said Dick. 

"It's the fashion to have a clean face in good society, " said Frank, smiling. 

"It must be a good deal of trouble, " said Dick. "Is my face very dirty?"

"Not very. There's a black spot on each cheek, and one on the side ofyour nose, and your chin looks a little shady. "

"A feller can't keep very clean in my business. "

"I suppose it is rather hard, " Frank admitted; "but you won't be aboot-black always, I hope. "

"I'd just as lieves give it up for bankin', or cashier of asavings-bank, " said Dick. "Them's light, genteel kinds of business, anddon't dirty the hands. "

"Well, Dick, if I hear of an opening in either line I'll let you know. Now I must go and buy a trunk. "

"I never expect to get as far as a trunk, " said Dick. "I shall feel likea gentleman when I can set up one. It wouldn't be no use to me now. I'dhave to stuff it with rocks to make a show. "

"Poor Dick!" thought Frank as he left his friend. "He takes the worldtoo easy. He hasn't any ambition, or he wouldn't be content to keep onblacking boots when there are so many better ways of making a living. IfI ever get a chance to give him a lift I will. He aint much to look at, but he's a good-hearted boy, and would put himself to a good deal oftrouble to do me a favor. "

It was not much trouble to pack his trunk. Indeed, he had scarcelyenough clothing to fill it one-third full. 

"I may have to adopt Dick's plan, and fill it with rocks, " said Frank tohimself. "Some day I shall be better supplied. I can't expect to get ontoo fast. "

The room assigned to Frank was a small one; but it was neatly furnished, and provided with a closet. The bed, with its clean white spread, lookedvery tempting, and Frank enjoyed the prospect of the privacy he wouldhave in a room devoted to his sole use. At the lodging-house, though hisbed was comfortable, there were sixty to eighty boys who slept in thesame room, and of course he had no more rights than any other. 

"I hope you like your room, Frank, " said Mrs. Vivian. 

"It is the best I ever had, " he replied. 

"How early are you obliged to be on duty?" she asked. 

"At eight o'clock. "

"I do not breakfast till that hour; but I will direct the cook to have acup of coffee and some breakfast ready for you at seven. "

"Am I to take my meals here?" asked Frank, in surprise. 

"Certainly. Did you think I was going to send you out to a restaurant?"inquired Mrs. Vivian, smiling. 

"I am very much obliged to you; but I am afraid it will inconveniencethe cook to get me an early breakfast. "

"I am glad to see you so considerate of others. I can answer for Mary, however, who is very obliging. You can get lunch outside, as I supposeit will be inconvenient for you to leave your duties to come so far asThirty-eighth street. "

"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Vivian, " said Frank, gratefully. 

"I shall claim an occasional service of you in return, " said Mrs. Vivian. 

"I hope you will, " said Frank, promptly. 

Two days after he had taken up his residence in his new quarters Frankwas called upon to render a very agreeable service. 

"I have two tickets for Wallack's theatre for this evening, " said Mrs. Vivian. "Will it be agreeable for you to accompany me?"

"I should like it very much. "

"Then you shall be my escort. When Fred is at home he goes with me; butnow I must depend on you. Have you a pair of kid gloves?"

Frank was obliged to confess that he had not. In fact he had never owneda pair in his life. 

"I will give you a pair of mine. Probably there is little difference inthe size of our hands. "

This proved to be true. 

Somehow Frank in his new life seemed always running across VictorDupont. That young gentleman and his sister sat in the row behind Mrs. Vivian and her youthful escort, but did not immediately become aware ofit. 

"Why, Victor, " said his sister, who had been looking about her, "thereis Mrs. Vivian in the next row. Who is that nice-looking boy with her?It can't be Fred, for he is larger. "

Victor turned his glance in the direction of Mrs. Vivian. His surpriseand disgust were about equal when he saw the country-boy he had lookeddown upon, faultlessly attired, with neat-fitting gloves, and a rose inhis button-hole and looking like a gentleman. 

"I never saw such cheek!" he exclaimed, in disgust. 

"What do you mean, Victor?" asked his sister, looking puzzled. 

"Do you want to know who that boy is with Mrs. Vivian?"

"Yes; he is very nice-looking. "

"Then you can marry him if you like. That boy is a telegraph messenger. I used to know him in the country. A few weeks ago he was selling papersin front of the Astor House. "

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Flora Dupont, "Aren't you mistaken?"

"I guess not. I know him as well as I know you. "

"He is a good-looking boy, at any rate, " said Flora, who was lesssnobbish than her brother. 

"I can't see it, " said Victor, annoyed. "He looks to me very common andvulgar. I don't see how Mrs. Vivian can be willing to appear with him ata fashionable theatre like this. "

"It's a pity he is a telegraph boy, he is so nice-looking. "

Just then Frank, turning, recognized Victor and bowed. Victor could notafford not to recognize Mrs. Vivian's escort, and bowed in return. 

But Victor was not the only one of Frank's acquaintances who recognizedhim that evening. In the upper gallery sat Dick Rafferty and Micky Shea, late fellow-boarders at the lodging-house. It was not often that theseyoung gentlemen patronized Wallack's, for even a gallery ticket therewas high-priced; but both wanted to see the popular play of "Ours, " andhad managed to scrape together fifty cents each. 

"Dick, " said Micky, suddenly, "there's Frank Kavanagh down near thestage, in an orchestra seat. "

"So he is, " said Dick. "Aint he dressed splendid though, wid kid gloveson and a flower in his button-hole, and an elegant lady beside him? See, she's whisperin' to him now. Who'd think he used to kape company wid thelikes of us?"

"Frank's up in the world. He's a reg'lar swell now. "

"And it's I that am glad of it. He's a good fellow, Frank is, and hewon't turn his back on us. "

This was proved later in the evening, for, as Frank left the theatrewith Mrs. Vivian, he espied his two old friends standing outside, andbowed with a pleasant smile, much to the gratification of the two streetboys, who were disposed to look upon their old friend as one of thearistocracy. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

FRANK AS A DETECTIVE. 

Of course Frank's daily duties were far the most part of a commonplacecharacter. They were more varied, to be sure, than those of anerrand-boy, or shop-boy, but even a telegraph messenger does not have anadventure every day. Twice in the next three weeks our hero was summonedby Mrs. Leroy to give her pet dog an airing. It was not hard work, butFrank did not fancy it, though he never failed to receive a handsome feefrom the mistress of Fido. 

One day Frank was summoned to a fashionable boarding-house in a sidestreet above the Fifth-avenue hotel. On presenting himself, the servantsaid, "It's one of the boarders wants you. Stay here, and I'll let himknow you've come. "

"All right!" said Frank. 

"Come right up, " said the girl, directly after, speaking from the upperlanding. 

Frank ascended the stairs, and entered a room on the second floor. Agentleman, partially bald, with a rim of red hair around the barecentral spot, sat in a chair by the window, reading a morning paper. 

"So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" he said. 

"Yes, sir. "

"You are honest, eh?"

"I hope so, sir. "

"Because I am going to trust you with a considerable sum of money. "

"It will be safe, sir. "

"I want you to do some shopping for me. Are you ever employed in thatway?"

"I was once, sir. "

"Let me see, --I want some linen handkerchiefs and some collars. Are youa judge of those articles?"

"Not particularly. "

"However, I suppose you know a collar from a pair of cuffs, and ahandkerchief from a towel, " said the stranger, petulantly. 

"I rather think I can tell them apart, " said Frank. 

"Now let me see how many I want, " said the stranger, reflectively. "Ithink half-a-dozen handkerchiefs will do. "

"How high shall I go?" asked Frank. 

"You ought to get them for fifty cents apiece, I should think. "

"Yes, sir, I can get them for that. "

"And the collars--well, half-a-dozen will do. Get them of good quality, size 15, and pay whatever is asked. "

"Yes, sir; do you want anything more?"

"I think not, this morning. I have a headache, or I would go outmyself, " explained the stranger. "I live up the Hudson, and I must gohome this afternoon by the boat. "

"Do you want me to buy the articles at any particular store?" inquiredFrank. 

"No; I leave that to your judgment. A large store is likely to have abetter assortment, I suppose. "

"Very well, sir. "

"Come back as soon as you can, that's all. "

"You haven't given me the money yet, sir, " said Frank. 

"Oh, I beg pardon! That is an important omission. "

The stranger drew out a pocket-book, which appeared to be well filled, and extracted two bills of twenty dollars each, which he passed toFrank. 

"This is too much, sir, " said the telegraph boy. "One of these billswill be much more than sufficient. "

"Never mind. I should like to have them both changed. You can buy thearticles at different places, as this will give you a chance to getchange for both. "

"I can get them changed at a bank, sir. "

"No, " said the stranger, hastily, "I would rather you would pay them forgoods. Shopkeepers are bound to change bills for a customer. "

"I don't see what difference it makes to you as long as they arechanged, " thought Frank. However it was not his business to question hisemployer's decision. 

Sixth avenue was not far distant, and as Frank was left to his ownchoice he betook himself hither on his shopping tour. Entering a largeretail store, he inquired for gentleman's linen handkerchiefs. 

"Large or small?" asked the girl in attendance. 

"Large, I should think. "

He was shown some of good quality, at fifty cents. 

"I think they will do, " said Frank, after examination. "I will takehalf-a-dozen. "

So saying he drew out one of the twenty-dollar bills. 

"Cash!" called the saleswoman, tapping on the counter with her pencil. 

Several small boys were flitting about the store in the service ofcustomers. One of them made his appearance. 

"Have you nothing smaller?" asked the girl, noticing the denomination ofthe bill. 

"No, " answered Frank. 

She put the bill between the leaves of a small blank book, and handedboth that and the goods to the boy. 

Frank sat down on a stool by the counter to wait. 

Presently the cash-boy came back, and the proprietor of the store withhim. He was a portly man, with a loud voice and an air of authority. Tohim the cash-boy pointed out Frank. 

"Are you the purchaser of these handkerchiefs?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir, " answered Frank, rather surprised at the question. 

"And did you offer this twenty-dollar bill in payment?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Where did you get it? Think well, " said the trader, sternly. 

"What is the matter? Isn't the bill a good one?" asked Frank. 

"You have not answered my question. However, I will answer yours. Thebill is a counterfeit. "

Frank looked surprised, and he understood at a flash why he had beentrusted with two of these bills when one would answer. 

"I have nothing to do with that, " said the telegraph boy. "I was sentout to buy some articles, and this money was given me to pay for them. "

"Have you got any other money of this description?" asked the trader, suspiciously. 

"Yes, " answered Frank, readily. "I have another twenty. "

"Let me see it. "

"Certainly. I should like to know whether that is bad too. "

The other twenty proved to be a fac-simile of the first. 

"I must know where you got this money, " said the merchant. "You may bein the service of counterfeiters. "

"You might know, from my uniform, that I am not, " said Frank, indignantly. "I once lost a place because I would not pass counterfeitmoney. "

"I have a detective here. You must lead him to the man who supplied youwith the money. "

"I am quite willing to do it, " said our hero. "He wanted to make a toolof me. If I can put him into the hands of the law, I will. "

"That boy is all right, " said a gentleman standing by. "The rogue wasquite ingenious in trying to work off his bad money through a telegraphmessenger. "

"What is the appearance of this man?" asked the detective as they walkedalong. 

"Rather a reddish face, and partly bald. "

"What is the color of the hair he has?"

"Red. "

"Very good. It ought to be easy to know him by that description. "

"I should know him at once, " said Frank, promptly. 

"If he has not changed his appearance. It is easy to do that, and thesefellows understand it well. "

Reaching the house, Frank rang the bell, the detective sauntering alongon the opposite side of the street. 

"Is Mr. Stanley at home?" asked Frank. 

"I will see. "

The girl came down directly, with the information that Mr. Stanley hadgone out. 

"That is queer, " said Frank. "He told me to come right back. He said hehad a headache, too, and did not want to go out. "

As he spoke, his glance rested on a man who was lounging at the corner. This man had black hair, and a full black beard. By chance, Frank's eyefell upon his right hand, and with a start he recognized a large ringwith a sparkling diamond, real or imitation. This ring he had last seenon Mr. Stanley's hand. He crossed the street in a quiet, indifferentmanner, and imparted his suspicions to the detective. 

"Good!" said the latter; "you are a smart boy. "

He approached the man alluded to, who, confident in his disguise, didnot budge, and, placing his hand on his shoulder, said, "Mr. Stanley, Ibelieve. "

"You are mistaken, " said the man, shrugging his shoulders in anonchalant way, with a foreign accent, "I am M. Lavalette. I do not knowyour M. Stanley. "

"I am afraid you are forgetful, monsieur. I beg pardon, but do you weara wig?" and with a quick movement he removed the stranger's hat, and, dislodging his black wig, displayed the rim of red hair. 

"This is an outrage!" said the rogue, angrily; "I will have youarrested, monsieur. "

"I will give you a chance, for here is an officer, " said the detective. 

"I give this man in charge for passing counterfeit money, " said thedetective. "The next time, Mr. Stanley, don't select so smart atelegraph boy. He recognized you, in spite of your disguise, by the ringupon your finger. "

The rogue angrily drew the ring from his finger, and threw it on thesidewalk. 

"Curse the ring!" he said. "It has betrayed me. "

It only remains to add that Stanley was convicted through Frank'stestimony. He proved to be an old offender, and the chief of a gang ofcounterfeiters. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

FRANK MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 

Frank was more fortunate than the generality of the telegraph boys inobtaining fees from those who employed him. He was not allowed tosolicit gifts, but was at liberty to accept them when offered. In oneway or another he found his weekly receipts came to about seven dollars. Out of this sum he would have been able to save money, even if he hadbeen obliged to pay all his expenses, that is by the exercise of stricteconomy. But, as we know, he was at no expense for room or board, withthe exception of a light lunch in the middle of the day. Making a littlecalculation, he found that he could save about four dollars a week. Asit had only been proposed to him to stay at Mrs. Vivian's while Fred wasin the country, it seemed prudent to Frank to "make hay while the sunshone, " and save up a little fund from which he could hereafter draw, incase it were necessary. 

So when he had saved ten dollars he presented himself at the counter ofthe Dime Savings-Bank, then located in Canal street, and deposited it, receiving a bank-book, which he regarded with great pride. 

"I begin to feel like a capitalist, " he said to himself. "I am ratherbetter off now than I was when I led round old Mills, the blind man. Iwonder how he is getting along. "

As Frank entered Broadway from Canal street, by a strange coincidence hecaught sight of the man of whom he had been thinking. Mills, with thesame querulous, irritable expression he knew well, was making his way upBroadway, led by a boy younger than Frank. 

"Pity a poor blind man!" he muttered from time to time in a whiningvoice. 

"Look out, you young rascal, or you will have me off the sidewalk, "Frank heard the blind man say; "I'll have a reckoning with you when Iget home. "

The boy, who was pale and slight, looked frightened. 

"I couldn't help it, Mr. Mills, " he said. "It was the crowd. "

"You are getting careless, that's what's the matter, " said Mills, harshly. "You are looking in at the shop windows, and neglect me. "

"No, I am not, " said the boy, in meek remonstrance. 

"Don't you contradict me!" exclaimed the blind man, grasping his sticksignificantly. "Pity a poor blind man!"

"What an old brute he is!" thought Frank; "I will speak to him. "

"How do you do, Mr. Mills?" he said, halting before the blind man. 

"Who are you?" demanded Mills, quickly. 

"You ought to know me; I am Frank Kavanagh, who used to go round withyou. "

"I have had so many boys--most of them good for nothing--that I don'tremember you. "

"I am the boy who wouldn't pass counterfeit money for you. "

"Hush!" said the blind man apprehensively, lest some one should hearFrank. "There was some mistake about that. I remember you now. Do youwant to come back? This boy doesn't attend to his business. "

Frank laughed. Situated as he was now, the proposal seemed to him anexcellent joke, and he was disposed to treat it as such. 

"Why, the fact is, Mr. Mills, you fed me on such rich food that Ishouldn't dare to go back for fear of dyspepsia. "

"Or starvation, " he added to himself. 

"I live better now, " said Mills. "I haven't had any boy since, thatsuited me as well as you. "

"Thank you; but I am afraid it would be a long time before I got rich onthe wages you would give me. "

"I'll give you fifty cents a week, " said Mills, "and more if I do well. You can come to-day, if you like. "

"You are very kind, but I am doing better than that, " said Frank. 

"What are you doing, --selling papers?"

"No; I have given that up. I am a telegraph boy. "

"How much do you make?"

"Seven dollars last week. "

"Why, you will be rich, " said the blind man, enviously. "I don't think Iget as much as that myself, and I have to pay a boy out of it. "

His poor guide did not have the appearance of being very liberally paid. 

"Then you won't come back?" said Mills, querulously. 

"No, I guess not. "

"Come along, boy!" said Mills, roughly, to his little guide. "Are yougoing to keep me here all day?"

"I thought you wanted to speak to this boy. "

"Well, I have got through. He has deserted me. It is the way of theworld. There's nobody to pity the poor, blind man. "

"Here's five cents for old acquaintance' sake. Mr. Mills, " said Frank, dropping a nickel into the hand of the boy who was guiding him. 

"Thank you! May you never know what it is to be blind!" said Mills, inhis professional tone. 

"If I am, I hope I can see as well as you, " thought Frank. "What aprecious old humbug he is, and how I pity that poor boy! If I had achance I would give him something to save him from starvation. "

Frank walked on, quite elated at the change in his circumstances whichallowed him to give money in charity to the person who had once been hisemployer. He would have given it more cheerfully if in his estimationthe man had been more worthy. 

Frank's errand took him up Broadway. He had two or three stops to make, which made it inconvenient for him to ride. A little way in front of himhe saw a boy of fourteen, whom he recognized as an errand-boy, and aformer fellow-lodger at the Newsboy's Lodging-House. He was about tohurry forward and join John Riley, --for this was the boy's name, --whenhis attention was attracted, and his suspicions aroused, by a man whoaccosted John. He was a man of about thirty, rather showily dressed, with a gold chain dangling from his vest. 

"Johnny, " he said, addressing the errand-boy "do you want to earn tencents?"

"I should like to, " answered the boy, "but I am going on an errand, andcan't spare the time. "

"It won't take five minutes, " said the young man. "It is only to takethis note up to Mr. Conant's room, on the fourth floor of thisbuilding. "

They were standing in front of a high building occupied as offices. 

The boy hesitated. 

"Is there an answer?" he asked. 

"No; you can come right down as soon as the letter is delivered. "

"I suppose I could spare the time for that, " said John Riley. 

"Of course you can. It won't take you two minutes. Here is the tencents. I'll hold your bundle for you while you run up. "

"All right!" said the errand-boy, and, suspecting nothing, hesurrendered his parcel, and taking the note and the dime, ran upstairs. 

No sooner was he out of sight than the young man began to walk offrapidly with the bundle. It was an old trick, that has been many timesplayed upon unsuspecting boys, and will continue to be played as long asthere are knavish adventurers who prefer dishonest methods of getting aliving to honest industry. 

In this case, however, the rogue was destined to disappointment. It maybe stated that he had been present in the dry-goods store from which theparcel came, and, knowing that the contents were valuable, had followedthe boy. 

No sooner did Frank understand the fellow's purpose than he pursued him, and seized him by the arm. 

"What do you want of me?" demanded the rogue, roughly. "I am in a hurryand can't be detained. "

"I want you to give me that bundle which you are trying to steal from myfriend, John Riley. "

The rogue's countenance changed. 

"What do you mean?" he demanded, to gain time. 

"I mean that I heard your conversation with him, and I know your game. Come back, or I will call a policeman. "

The young man was sharp enough to see that he must give up his purpose. 

"There, take the bundle, " he said, tossing it into Frank's arms. "I wasonly going for a cigar; I should have brought it back. "

When John Riley came downstairs, with the letter in his hand, --for hehad been unable to find any man named Conant in the building, --he foundFrank waiting with the parcel. 

"Holloa, Frank! Where's that man that sent me upstairs? I can't find Mr. Conant. "

"Of course you can't. There's no such man in the building. That man wasa thief; but for me he would have carried off your bundle. "

"What a fool I was!" said the errand-boy. "I won't let myself be fooledagain. "

"Don't give up a bundle to a stranger again, " said Frank. "I'm only acountry boy, but I don't allow myself to be swindled as easily as you. "

"I wish that chap would come here again, " said Johnny, indignantly. "ButI've come out best, after all, " he added, brightening up. "I've made tencents out of him. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A RICH WOMAN'S SORROW. 

One day Frank was summoned to a handsome residence on Madison avenue. 

"Sit down in the parlor, " said the servant "and I will call Mrs. Graham. "

As Frank looked around him, and noted the evidences of wealth in theelegant furniture and rich ornaments profusely scattered about, hethought, "How rich Mrs. Graham must be! I suppose she is very happy. Ishould be if I could buy everything I wanted. "

It was a boy's thought, and betrayed our hero's inexperience. Evenunlimited means are not sure to produce happiness, nor do handsomesurroundings prove wealth. 

Five minutes later an elderly lady entered the room. She was richlydressed, but her face wore a look of care and sorrow. 

As she entered, Frank rose with instinctive politeness, and bowed. 

"You are the telegraph boy, " said the lady, inquiringly. 

"Yes, ma'am. "

Mrs. Graham looked at him earnestly, as if to read his character. 

"I have sent for you, " she said, at length, "to help me in a matter ofsome delicacy, and shall expect you not to speak of it, even to youremployers. "

"They never question me, " said Frank, promptly. "You may rely upon mysecrecy. "

Frank's statement was correct. The business entrusted to telegraphmessengers is understood to be of a confidential nature, and they areinstructed to guard the secrets of those who make use of their services. 

"I find it necessary to raise some money, " continued the lady, apparently satisfied, "and am not at liberty, for special reasons, tocall upon my husband for it. I have a diamond ring of considerablevalue, which I should like to have you carry, either to a jeweller or apawnbroker, and secure what advance you can upon it. "

"And I believed she had plenty of money, " thought Frank, wondering. 

"I will do the best I can for you, madam, " said our hero. 

Mrs. Graham drew from her pocket a small box, containing a diamond ring, which sparkled brilliantly in the sunshine. 

"It is beautiful, " said Frank, admiringly. 

"Yes, it cost originally eight hundred dollars, " said the lady. 

"Eight hundred dollars!" echoed Frank, in wonder. He had heard ofdiamond rings, and knew they were valuable, but had no idea they were sovaluable as that. 

"How much do you expect to get on it?" he asked. 

"Nothing near its value, of course, nor is that necessary. Two hundreddollars will be as much as I care to use, and at that rate I shall beable the sooner to redeem it. I believe I will tell you why I want themoney. "

"Not unless you think it best, " said Frank. 

"It is best, for I shall again require your services in disposing of themoney. "

The lady sat down on the sofa beside Frank, and told him the story whichfollows:--

"I have two children, " she said, "a daughter and a son. The son hasrecently graduated from college, and is now travelling in Europe. Mydaughter is now twenty-six years of age. She was beautiful, and oursocial position was such that my husband, who is a proud man, confidently anticipated that she would make a brilliant match. But atthe age of nineteen Ellen fell in love with a clerk in my husband'semploy. He was a young man of good appearance and character, and nothingcould be said against him except that he was poor. This, however, wasmore than enough in Mr. Graham's eyes. When Lawrence Brent asked for thehand of our daughter, my husband drove him from the house with insult, and immediately discharged him from his employ. Ellen was high-spirited, and resented this treatment of the man she loved. He soon obtained aplace quite as good as the one he had lost, and one day Ellen left thehouse and married him. She wrote to us, excusing her action, and I wouldgladly have forgiven her; but her father was obdurate. He forbade mymentioning her name to him, and from that day to this he has neverreferred to her. 

"I am now coming to the business in which you are to help me. For yearsmy son-in-law was able to support his wife comfortably, and also the twochildren which in time came to them. But, a year since, he became sick, and his sickness lasted till he had spent all his savings. Now he andhis poor family are living in wretched lodgings, and are in need of thecommon necessaries of life. It is for them I intend the money which Ican secure upon this ring. "

Frank could not listen without having his sympathies aroused. 

"I shall be still more glad to help you, " he said, "now that I know howthe money is to be used. "

"Thank you, " said the lady. "You are a good boy, and I see that I cantrust you implicitly. "

She handed Frank the box, enjoining upon him to be careful not to loseit. 

"It is so small that it might easily slip from your pocket, " she said. 

"I shall take the best care of it, " said Frank. "Where would you adviseme to go first?"

"I hardly know. If I wished to sell it I would carry it to Tiffany; butit was purchased there, and it might in that case come to my husband'sears. There is a pawnbroker, named Simpson, who, I hear, is one of thebest of his class. You may go there first. "

"How much shall I say you want on it?" asked Frank. 

"Don't mention my name at all, " said the lady, hastily. 

"I suppose I shall have to give some name, " said Frank, "in order thatthe ticket may be made out. "

"What is your own name?"

"Frank Kavanagh. "

"Have you a mother living?"

"No, " said Frank, gravely. 

"Then let the ticket be made out in your name. "

"If you wish it. "

"Shall I bring the money to you, Mrs. Graham?"

"No; my husband might be at home, and it would arouse his suspicions. Attwelve o'clock I will meet you at Madison Park, at the corner oppositethe Union League Club House. You can then report to me your success. "

"Very well, " said Frank. 

He went at once to the pawnbroker mentioned by Mrs. Graham. But for hisuniform he would have been questioned closely as to how he came by thering; but telegraph boys are so often employed on similar errands thatthe pawnbroker showed no surprise. After a careful examination he agreedto advance two hundred dollars, and gave Frank the money and the ticket. When Frank gave his own name, he said, "That is your name, is it not?"

"Yes, sir. "

"But the ring does not belong to you?"

"No; it belongs to a lady who does not wish her name known. "

"It is all the same to us. "

"That was easily done, " thought Frank. "Now I must go and meet Mrs. Graham. "

"Have you got the money?" asked Mrs. Graham, anxiously, as Frank madehis appearance. 

"Yes, " replied Frank. 

"How much?"

"The amount you asked for. "

"That is well. Now I shall be able to relieve my poor daughter. I cannotbear to think of her and her poor children suffering for the lack ofbread, while I am living in luxury. I wish Mr. Graham was not sounforgiving. "

"Will you take the money now?" asked Frank. 

"I wish you to take fifty dollars to my daughter. "

"I will do so with pleasure. What is her address?"

Mrs. Graham drew out a card, on which she had pencilled her daughter'saddress. It proved to be a tenement-house on the east side of the city, not far from Fourteenth street. 

"I wish I could go myself, " said Mrs. Graham, sadly; "but I do not dareto do so at present. Give Ellen this money, with my best love; and sayto her that a month hence I will again send her the same sum. Tell herto keep up good courage. Brighter days may be in store. "

"I will be sure to remember, " said Frank, in a tone of sympathy. 

The errand was to his taste; for he was about to carry help and comfortto those who needed both. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A MESSENGER OF GOOD TIDINGS. 

There stands a large tenement-house on East Fourteenth street, fivestories in height, and with several entrances. Scores of barefooted andscantily attired children play in the halls or on the sidewalk in front, and the great building is a human hive, holding scores of families. Someof them, unaccustomed to live better, are tolerably content with theirsqualid and contracted accommodations; but a few, reduced by gradualsteps from respectability and comfort, find their positions very hard tobear. 

On the third floor three small rooms were occupied by Mr. And Mrs. Robert Morgan, and their two children. She was the daughter of Mrs. Graham, and had been reared in affluence. How she had incurred herfather's displeasure has already been told. He had been taken sick somemonths before, his little stock of money had melted away, and now he wasunable even to pay the small expenses of life in a tenement-house. 

Just before Frank made his appearance there was sadness in the littlehousehold. 

"How much money is there left, Ellen?" asked Robert Morgan. 

"Seventy-five cents, " she answered, in a tone which she tried to makecheerful. 

"And our week's rent will become due to-morrow. "

"I may hear from mother, " suggested Mrs. Morgan. 

"If you don't, I don't know what will become of us all. We shall bethrust into the street. Even this squalid home will be taken from us. "

"Don't get discouraged, Robert. "

"Isn't there enough to make me despondent, Ellen? I can see now that Idid very wrong to marry you. "

"Do you regret our marriage, then, Robert?" asked his wife. 

"Only because it has brought you poverty and discomfort. "

"I have not yet regretted it. "

"How different a position you would have occupied if I had not draggedyou down! You would still be living in luxury. "

"I should not have you and these dear children. "

"And will they compensate you for what has come upon you?"

"Yes, " she answered, emphatically. 

"You have more philosophy than I have, Ellen. "

"More trust, perhaps. Do you know, Robert, I think we are on the eve ofgood fortune?"

"I hope so, but I see no prospects of it. "

Just then there was a knock at the door. 

Thinking that it might be some humble neighbor, on a borrowingexpedition, Mrs. Morgan opened the door. Before her stood our hero inhis uniform. 

"Is this Mrs. Robert Morgan?" asked Frank. 

"Yes, " she answered. 

"I come from your mother. "

"From my mother? Robert, do you hear that?" said the poor woman, in avoice of gladness. "Here is a messenger from my mother. Didn't I tellyou there was good luck in store for us?"

Mr. Morgan did not answer. He waited anxiously to hear what Frank had tocommunicate. 

"Your mother sends you her love, and fifty dollars, " continued Frank. "She hopes to call soon herself. "

"Fifty dollars!" exclaimed Ellen Morgan, in delight. "It is a fortune. "

"Thank Heaven!" ejaculated her husband, in great relief. 

"A month hence you may expect a similar sum, " said Frank. "I suppose Ishall bring it. Shall I find you here?"

Ellen Morgan looked at her husband. 

"No, " said he. "Let us get out of this neighborhood as soon as possible. Can't you find a respectable place to-day?"

"Yes, " said his wife. "I shall be glad to move. I saw some neat rooms onWest Twentieth street on Monday. They will cost us but little more, andwill suit us better. "

"I will send my mother my new address, " she said to Frank. 

"Then you may send it under cover to me, and I will see that she gets itprivately, " said Frank, who had received instructions to that effectfrom Mrs. Graham. 

When Frank had left the room the little household seemed quitetransformed. Hope had entered, and all looked more cheerful. 

"We are provided for, for two months, Robert, " said his wife. "Is notthat a piece of good luck?"

"Yes, indeed it is, " he answered heartily. "Before that time I can getto work again, and with health and employment I shall not need to askfavors of any one. "

"I wish father were as forgiving as mother, " said Ellen Morgan. 

"Your father is a hard man. He will never forgive you for marrying apoor man. He would punish you by starvation. "

"He is very proud, " said Mrs. Morgan. "I was an only daughter, you know, and he had set his heart upon my making a brilliant marriage. "

"As you might have done. "

"As I did not care to do. I preferred to make a happy marriage with theman of my choice. "

"You are a good wife, Ellen. "

"I hope you will always find me so, Robert. "

"I should have sunk utterly if you had been like some women. "

In the afternoon Mrs. Morgan went out, taking one of her children withher. She went to the rooms on West Twentieth street, and, finding themstill vacant, secured them, paying a month's rent in advance, as hermother's timely gift enabled her to do. Before the next evening theywere installed in their new home, and Mrs. Morgan sent a note to hermother, under cover to Frank, apprising her of the removal. 

Two days later Frank received a summons to the house on Madison avenue. He obeyed, thinking he should probably be sent with some message to Mrs. Morgan. 

He found Mrs. Graham in a state of nervous excitement. 

"My husband has been stricken with paralysis, " she said. "It is terriblysudden. He went out yesterday, apparently in vigorous health. He wasbrought home pale and helpless. "

"Can I do anything for him or you?" asked Frank. 

"Yes; you can go at once to my daughter, and summon her to her father'sbedside. "

Frank was surprised, remembering how obdurate Mrs. Graham had describedher husband to be. 

"You look surprised, " she said; "but sickness often produces a greatchange in us. My husband's pride has given way. His affection hasreturned; and it is at his request that I send for Ellen. "

Frank had come to feel a personal interest in the family, and he gladlyset out for the modest home in West Twentieth street. He felt that itwas pleasant to be a messenger of reconciliation. 

Mrs. Morgan recognized him at once, and received him cordially. 

"Do you come from my mother?" she asked. 

"Yes. She wishes you to come home at once. "

"But--my father. "

"Your father is very sick; and he joins in the request. "

"It has come at last, --the time I have looked forward to for so long, "said Ellen Morgan, clasping her hands. "Robert, do you feel equal tolooking after the children while I am gone?"

"Yes, Ellen. Go at once. God grant that your father's heart may besoftened, for your sake. For myself I am content to live in poverty; butI don't like to see you suffer. "

"What is the matter with father? Did my mother tell you?"

Frank explained, and thus gave her fresh cause for anxiety. 

On reaching her father's chamber she was shocked by his changedappearance; but her heart was gladdened by the wan smile that lightedup his face, assuring her that she was welcome. From the doctor shereceived the assurance that her father was in no immediate danger. Indeed, he expressed a confident hope that Mr. Graham would rally fromhis present attack, and be able to go about his business again, thoughcaution would be required against undue excitement or fatigue. 

The doctor's prediction was verified. Mr. Graham recovered; but his oldpride and obduracy did not come back. He became reconciled to hisson-in-law, and provided him a well-paid position in his own mercantileestablishment, and provided rooms in the Madison-avenue mansion for thelittle family whom Frank had first visited in the squalid tenement-housein Fourteenth street, and the glad voices of children made the house nolonger lonely. 

"You must call and see us often, " said Ellen Morgan to our hero. "Ishall always remember you as the messenger who brought us good tidingsat the darkest hour in our fortunes. We shall always welcome you as afriend. "

CHAPTER XX. 

A NEW JOB, AND A LETTER FROM HOME. 

One morning an elderly gentleman entered the office in which Frank wasemployed, and sought an interview with the superintendent. 

"I want a smart boy for detective work, " he said. "Have you one you canrecommend?"

The superintendent cast his eyes over the line of boys, and calledFrank. Our hero's recognition of the disguised counterfeiter by his ringhad given him a reputation for shrewdness. 

"I think this boy will suit you, " he said. "Do you wish him to go withyou now?"

"Yes; I may want him a week. "

"Very well. "

Frank accompanied the gentleman into the street. 

"Have you no other clothes except this uniform?" asked Mr. Hartley. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Then go and put them on. Then report to me at No. -- Broadway. "

"All right, sir. "

"It is fortunate I have a good suit, " thought Frank. 

He was not long in exchanging his uniform for the neat suit given him byMr. Bowen. Thus attired, he presented himself in Mr. Hartley'scounting-room. The merchant surveyed him with approval. 

[Illustration: THE MERCHANT SURVEYED WITH APPROVAL. ]

"You will enter my service as errand-boy, " he said. "You will be sent tothe post-office, the bank, and on similar errands, in order not toexcite suspicion of the real object of your presence. Keep your eyesopen, and I will take an opportunity of explaining to you later what Iwish you to do. "

Frank bowed. 

"Mr. Haynes, " said the merchant, calling a thin, sallow young man, "Ihave engaged this boy as an errand-boy. Has any one been to thepost-office this morning?"

"No, sir. "

"Then he will go. "

Haynes regarded Frank with disfavor. 

"I have a nephew who would have liked the position, " he said. 

"Too late now, " said the merchant, curtly. 

"What is your name, boy?" asked Haynes, coldly. . 

"Frank Kavanagh. "

"How did Mr. Hartley happen to engage you?" asked the subordinate. 

"A gentleman recommended me, " Frank answered. 

"I had already mentioned my nephew to him. I am surprised he saidnothing to me about engaging a boy. "

Frank said nothing, feeling no particular interest in the matter. As hewas only filling temporarily the position of errand boy, it made littledifference to him whether he was acceptable to Mr. Haynes or not. 

In the course of the day Mr. Hartley handed Frank a card, containing thestreet and number of his residence, with a pencilled invitation to callthat evening. 

Of course Frank did so. 

Seated alone with the merchant in his back parlor, the latter said, "Ihave invited you here because I could not speak with you freely at thestore. How do you like Mr. Haynes?"

Frank was surprised at the abruptness of the question. 

"I don't like him, " he answered, candidly. 

"Why not?"

"There is no good reason that I know of, " said Frank; "but I think hismanner is disagreeable. "

"Our instincts are often to be trusted, " said the merchant, thoughtfully. "I confess that I myself don't like Haynes, nor do I feelimplicit confidence in him, though he has been eight years in theservice of our house. He is outwardly very circumspect, and apparentlyvery faithful, but there is something in his eye which I don't like. "

Frank had noticed this, but Mr. Hartley's remark called fresh attentionto its furtive, crafty expression. 

Frank's curiosity was aroused, naturally enough. He wondered what Mr. Haynes had to do with his mission. He did not have long to wait forinformation. 

"I will come to the point, " said Mr. Hartley, after a pause. "I am animporting merchant, and deal, among other articles, in silks. During thelast year I have discovered that some one is systematically robbing me, and that parts of my stock have been spirited away. The loss I havesustained is already considerable, and unless the leakage is put a stopto, I may as well give up business. You can now guess why I have engagedyou. No one will suspect an errand boy of being a detective, while a manwould very probably excite distrust, and put the rogue on his guard. "

Frank listened attentively to his employer. 

"Do you suspect any one in particular, Mr. Hartley?" he asked. 

"It must be some one in my employ, " he said. "The man who, more than anyother, has facilities for robbing me is the man of whom I have spoken toyou. "

"Mr. Haynes?"

"Yes, Mr. Haynes. He holds an important position, and enjoys specialprivileges. On the other hand, so far as I can learn, he lives in asober, inexpensive way, quite within his salary, which is liberal. He isprominently connected with an up-town church, and it seems veryimprobable that he would be guilty of robbery, or breach of trust; yetthere have been such cases before. At any rate, I cannot wholly divestmyself of suspicion. "

"What do you wish me to do?" asked Frank. 

"To watch Mr. Haynes carefully, both in and out of the store, toascertain whether he has any unexplained expenses, or any questionablecompanions. I want to know how he spends his time out of the office. Itmay be that the result of my investigation will be to his credit. It maybe that he is all that he seems, --a reputable member of the church andof society, with nothing against him but an unpleasant manner. Shouldthis be the case, I shall be glad to correct my suspicions, and give himback my confidence. In that case, we must look elsewhere for the roguewho is robbing me. "

"Have you any particular instructions to give me?" asked Frank. 

"No, only to follow Haynes, and find out all you can about him. Usegreat care in doing it, not to arouse his or any one else's suspicion. Iwill find an opportunity for you to make your reports. "

"Very well, sir. "

 * * * * *

When Frank got home, he found a letter awaiting him from his countryhome. It was in answer to one which he had written to his uncle, DeaconPelatiah Kavanagh, in reference to a trunk which had belonged to hisfather. 

This is the letter:--

 MY DEAR NEPHEW, --I am glad to learn that you are making a living in the city. It is much better that you should earn your own living than to be a burden upon me, though of course I would not see you suffer. But a man's duty is to his own household, and my income from the farm is very small, and Hannah and I agreed that we had little to spare for others. 

 There is an old trunk, belonging to your deceased father, in the attic. It contains some old clothes, which may be made over for you, and so save you expense. I would use them myself, and allow you for them, but your father was a much smaller man than I, and his clothes would not fit me. I will send the trunk by express to the address which you gave me. Of course I shall expect you to pay the express, as I have no interest in it, or its contents. 

 Your cousin Jonathan has left school, and is working on the farm. I feel _so_ glad that he has no extravagant tastes, but inherits the careful and economical habits of his mother and myself. I am sure he will never waste or squander the little property which I hope to leave him. 

"I don't believe he will, " thought Frank, "for he is about as mean ashis mother, and that is saying a good deal. "

 Your aunt and I hope that you will steer clear of the temptations of the city. Do not seek after vain amusements, but live a sober life, never spending a cent unnecessarily, and you will in time become a prosperous man. I would invite you to come and stop with us over Sunday, but for the railroad fare, which is high. It will be better to save your money, and put off the visit till you can afford it. 

 Your uncle, PELATIAH KAVANAGH. 

Reading this letter, it would hardly be supposed that the writer ownedten thousand dollars in stocks, bonds, and mortgages, over and above anexcellent farm. Such, however, was the worldly position of the man whosent Frank to the city in quest of a living, because he could not affordto provide for him. With some men prudence is a virtue; with DeaconPelatiah Kavanagh it was carried so far as to be a positive defect. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

FRANK'S FIRST DISCOVERY. 

So far as Frank could observe, Mr. Haynes was an active, energeticsalesman. He appeared to understand his duties thoroughly, and to goabout them in a straightforward manner. So far as his personal habitswere concerned, they seemed irreproachable. He was neatly but plainlydressed, wore no jewelry, and carried a plain silver watch, which, whennew, probably did not cost over twenty dollars. 

Frank had no difficulty in ascertaining where he lived. It was in abrick house, on Waverley place, very unpretentious and certainly notfashionable. In order to find out how much he paid for hisaccommodations Frank visited the house on pretence of being in search ofboard. 

"We have a hall bed-room on the third floor, at five dollars a week, including board, " said the landlady. "How would that suit you?"

"I may have a friend board with me, " said Frank. "In that case we shouldneed a large room. Have you any vacant?"

"There is the front room on the third floor. We would let it to twogentlemen at eleven dollars for the two. "

"Isn't the back room cheaper?" inquired our hero. 

"Yes; but it is occupied by a business gentleman. "

"Can you tell me his name? I may be acquainted with him. "

"His name is Haynes. "

"How much does he pay?"

"He pays eight dollars a week, and has the room alone. "

"I suppose his room is not likely to become vacant soon?"

"Oh, dear, no. He has been with us for several years. We should be sorryto lose him. Last Christmas he gave my daughter a present of a nicesilk-dress pattern. "

Frank was struck by this information. 

"I don't believe he paid anything for the silk, " thought he. "I wish Icould find out. "

He had learned all he cared for, and left, saying he might call again. 

"His expenses seem very moderate for a man in his position, " thoughtFrank. "I wonder if he makes any investments. "

Fortune favored our hero in the prosecution of his inquiry. KeepingHaynes in sight, as was his custom, he observed that the latter, inpulling out a handkerchief from the breast-pocket of his coat, hadbrought with it a letter also. Frank, quickly and unobserved, picked itup, and when he was alone looked at the address. It was directed toJames Haynes, at his residence in Waverley place. On the envelope wasthe printed address of a real-estate broker in Brooklyn. 

Frank knew that there was at that time considerable speculation inBrooklyn real estate, and he examined the letter. It ran thus:--

 We have found a corner lot, with several lots adjoining, near Prospect Park, which may be obtained for five thousand dollars, half cash. We have no hesitation in recommending the purchase, being convinced, from the tendencies of the market, that the buyer will double his money in a comparatively short time. If you are engaged at other times, come over on Sunday afternoon, and we will show you the property. The house you purchased of us last year is worth fully a thousand dollars more than the price you gave. 

"I wonder how much he gave, " said Frank to himself. 

The letter was signed "Henderson & Co. , No. -- Fulton street. "

Our hero was elated by the discovery he had made, and he sought aninterview with Mr. Hartley. 

"Have you discovered anything?" asked the merchant, noticing the eagerlook of his young detective. 

Without attaching especial importance to the fact, Frank answered, "Ihave found out that Mr. Haynes owns a house in Brooklyn. "

"Indeed!" said Hartley, quickly. "But, " he continued more slowly, "hemight buy one with the money saved from his salary. "

"He is also thinking of buying some lots near Prospect Park. "

"How did you learn this?" asked the merchant, surprised. 

"I would rather not tell you, " said Frank, who was not quite surewhether Mr. Hartley would sanction his examination of a private letter. "You may be sure that it is true. "

"Very well; I will rest contented with that assurance. I will leave youto work in your own way. Your information is important, for it seems toshow that Mr. Haynes has made investments beyond his ability, if he weredependent upon his savings alone. "

"That is what I thought, " said Frank. "I must try to find out where hegets this extra money. "

"If you do that, and prove my suspicions correct, I will make you ahandsome present, besides paying the company regular rates for yourservices. "

"Thank you, sir. I will try to earn your gifts. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

FOLLOWING UP A CLUE. 

This is not a detective story, and I shall not, therefore, detail thesteps by which our young hero succeeded in tracing out the agency ofHaynes in defrauding the firm by which he was employed. It required notone week, but three, to follow out his clues, and qualify himself tomake a clear and intelligible report to Mr. Hartley. He had expresslyrequested the merchant not to require any partial report, as it mightinterfere with his working unobserved. Towards the end of the third weekhe asked an interview with Mr. Hartley. 

"Well, Frank, " said the merchant, familiarly, "who is the rogue?"

"Mr. Haynes, " answered our hero. 

"You speak confidently, " said his employer; "but surmise will not do. Iwant proof, or I cannot act. "

"I will tell you what I have discovered, " said Frank; "and I leave youto judge for yourself. "

"Have you a customer in Hartford named Davis?" he asked. 

"Yes; and a very good customer. He is frequent in his orders, and makesprompt payments. I wish I had more like him. "

"If you had more like him you would soon be bankrupt, " said Frank, quietly. 

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Hartley, in genuine surprise. "How can acustomer who buys largely, and pays promptly, be undesirable?"

"Did you know that Mr. Davis is a brother-in-law of Mr. Haynes?"

"No; but even if he is I have to thank Mr. Haynes for securing me soexcellent a customer. "

Hartley spoke confidently, evidently believing that Frank was on thewrong tack. 

"I have noticed, " said Frank, "that when goods are packed to go to Mr. Davis, Mr. Haynes personally superintends the packing, and employs oneparticular man to pack. "

"What then?"

"I think he has something to conceal. "

"I don't understand what he can have to conceal. If Davis is hisbrother-in-law, it is natural that he should feel a special interest infilling his orders. "

"I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Haynes were a partner as well as abrother-in-law of Mr. Davis. "

Mr. Hartley looked surprised. 

"That may be true; though I don't know why you should conjecture it. Admitting that you are right, I don't know that I have any right toobject. I should like it better, however, if I were frankly told by Mr. Haynes of this circumstance. "

"I will tell you what I think I have discovered, " continued Frank. "Thecases that are shipped to Mr. Davis not only contain the goods he hasordered, but valuable silks that he has not ordered, and does notpropose to pay for. "

"I see, I see, " exclaimed Mr. Hartley, a light dawning upon him for thefirst time. "I was stupid not to comprehend your meaning earlier. Whatwarrant have you for suspecting this?"

"First, your steady losses of goods; next, the ease with which Mr. Haynes, in his position of trust, could carry out this plan. Why shouldhe superintend the packing of Mr. Davis's goods, alone of all yourcustomers?"

"There is weight in what you say, Frank. You are certainly anextraordinary boy. You have shown so much shrewdness that I now ask youradvice. What steps shall I take to ascertain whether Mr. Haynes isreally guilty of what we suspect him?"

"There is an order now being filled for Mr. Davis, " answered Frank. "When the order is filled, can't you open the case, and find out whetherthe contents correspond exactly to the bill?"

"The very thing. To facilitate matters I will send Mr. Haynes toBrooklyn on a confidential errand. Fortunately there is a matter thatwill give me a good excuse for doing so. Go back to your post, and whenMr. Haynes appears to be at liberty send him to me. "

Half an hour later Mr. Haynes entered the counting room of hisemployer. 

"You sent for me, sir?" he said, a little uneasily; for, when conscienceaccuses, the mind is always apprehensive. 

"Yes, Mr. Haynes, " said the merchant, in his usual tone. "Have you anyobjection to go to Brooklyn for me, on a confidential errand?"

"None in the world, sir, " said Haynes, relieved. "I shall be glad totake the trip this fine morning. It is almost too pleasant to remainin-doors. "

"Thank you; I will give you your instructions, and shall be glad to haveyou go at once. "

It is not necessary to our story that we should know the nature of theerrand on which Haynes was sent. It served the purpose of getting himout of the way. 

When the suspected clerk was fairly on his way Mr. Hartley went to thepacking-room, and looked about him till he discovered the case addressedto

 H. L. DAVIS & CO. , HARTFORD, CONN. 

"Open this case, " said he to one of the workmen. "There was a mistakerecently in sending some goods to Davis, and I wish to compare thesewith the bill. "

"I think they are all right, sir, " said the man addressed. "Mr. Haynessaw them packed. "

"Mr. Haynes will not be responsible for any mistake, " said Mr. Hartley. "I would rather see for myself. "

The case was opened, and the merchant discovered about two hundreddollars' worth of silk, which was not included in the bill. 

"Go and call Mr. Hunting, " said Mr. Hartley, quietly. 

Mr. Hunting filled one of the most important positions in theestablishment. To him his employer explained the nature of hisdiscovery. 

"Mr. Hunting, " he said, "I wish you to see and attest the fraud that hasbeen attempted upon me. This case was packed under the special charge ofMr. Haynes. "

"Is it possible that Mr. Haynes knew of this?" exclaimed hisfellow-clerk. 

"Davis is his brother-in-law, " said Mr. Hartley, significantly. 

"Has this been going on long, do you think, sir?"

"For several years, I suspect. Mr. Haynes has, no doubt, found it veryprofitable. "

"Shall I close up the case again, sir?" asked the workman. 

"Yes, but it is not to go. You may await my further orders. "

The silk was taken out, and replaced in the silk department. 

"So much has been saved, at least, " said the merchant. 

"When Mr. Haynes comes back, " he said to the usher, "send him to me. "

CHAPTER XXIII. 

BROUGHT TO BAY. 

Mr. Haynes had a private reason for accepting readily the commission tovisit Brooklyn. It occurred to him at once that it would give him anexcellent chance to call on his real-estate agent, and confer with himupon future investments. For James Haynes had the comfortableconsciousness that he was a prosperous man. Month by month, and year byyear, he was adding largely to his gains, and while he was still a youngman he would be rich, _if all went well_. 

Of course this meant if his peculations remained undiscovered. Whyshould they not be? He plumed himself on the skill with which he managedto rob his employer. He was no vulgar bungler to break into the store, or enter into an alliance with burglars. Not he! The property he tookwas carried off openly before Mr. Hartley's very eyes, and he knewnothing of it. He did not even suspect that he was being robbed. This iswhat Mr. Haynes thought; but, as we know, he was mistaken. Even now hewas in a net; but did not know it. 

After attending to Mr. Hartley's commission Haynes went to see hisbroker. The conversation he had with the broker was of a veryencouraging character. He was congratulated upon his investments, andassured that they would pay him handsomely. 

James Haynes returned from Brooklyn in a very pleasant mood. 

"A year or two more of life as a clerk, and I will throw off the yoke, "he said to himself. "I must be worth at least fifteen thousand dollarsnow, apart from any rise in the value of my investments. When I reachtwenty-five thousand I will resign my position, and go to Europe. Ishall than possess an income adequate to my simple wants. "

"Is Mr. Hartley in the counting-room?" he asked, as he reëntered thestore. 

"Yes, sir, and he wishes to see you. "

"Of course he wants to see me, --to hear my report. "

The merchant looked up as Haynes entered the counting-room. 

"So you are back?" he said, gravely. 

"Yes, sir; I was detained a little, but I fulfilled my commission. "

"That is well. "

Here Haynes made his report. Mr. Hartley listened with an abstractedair, for his thoughts were upon the defalcation of the man before him. 

Finishing his statement, James Haynes turned to leave the office, buthis employer called him back. 

"Wait a minute, Mr. Haynes, " he said, gravely. "I wish to ask you one ortwo questions. "

"Certainly, sir. "

"I believe we have transactions with a party in Hartford, with thefirm-name of H. L. Davis & Co. ?"

"Yes, sir, " said Haynes, starting and flushing a little. 

"Is Mr. Davis a relative of yours?"

"Yes, sir. I wonder where he heard that?" Haynes asked himself. "Isthere any trouble? Is he behind in his payments?" inquired the clerk. 

"No; he has always settled his bills with commendable promptness. "

"I insisted on that, " said Haynes, in a satisfied tone. "I didn't wantyou to lose by any connection of mine. "

"And you are quite sure that I have lost nothing by Mr. Davis?" demandedthe merchant, regarding Haynes intently. 

The latter changed color. 

"How is that possible, " he inquired, "since he has met his paymentspromptly?"

"You have personally seen to the packing of Mr. Davis's goods, Ibelieve, Mr. Haynes?"

"Well--generally, " stammered the rather disconcerted clerk. 

"At all events, you did so this morning?"

"Ye-es. "

"After you started for Brooklyn, I had the case opened, and found somepatterns of silk not included in the bill. "

"I suppose there was a mistake, " said Haynes, turning pale. 

"You think this has not happened before?"

"I am sure of it. "

"Mr. Haynes, " said his employer, sternly, "you may as well drop the maskof innocence. I have been robbed systematically for the last threeyears, and I now understand how it was done. You and Davis, between you, have plundered me in an exceedingly ingenious manner. It will go hardwith you before a jury. "

"You won't have me arrested!" exclaimed Haynes, his pallor indicatinghis dismay. 

"Why should I not?"

"You could prove nothing. "

"I will take my chance of that. Have you nothing more to say?"

"I--though I do not admit that your charge is correct--I am willing tomake over to you the greater part of my property, to avoid the scandalof a trial. "

"That will not do, Mr. Haynes. Were I to accept this upon such a ground, you could rightfully bring against me a charge of blackmail. "

"What, then, are your terms?" asked Haynes, sullenly. 

"You must write out a confession of your guilt, which I shall put amongmy private papers, and not make public unless necessary, and in additionyou must make over to me property to the amount of ten thousand dollars. It will not make up my losses, but I will accept it as restitution infull. "

Against this James Haynes most strongly protested, alleging that the sumdemanded was far beyond the amount of his purloinings; but finally heyielded, being privately resolved to make his brother-in-law payone-half of the forfeiture. 

"You will leave my service at the end of the week, Mr. Haynes, " said hisemployer, "and during next week you must attend to the transfer. "

"How did he find out?" said Haynes to himself, as with grave face hewent about the duties of the place he was so soon to leave. "If I couldfind out, I would have my revenge. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

AN OPEN ENEMY. 

Frank remained with Mr. Hartley till the guilty clerk left theestablishment. This was at the special request of the merchant, who didnot care to let Mr. Haynes suspect who had been instrumental in bringinghis guilt to light. 

"I suppose you have no further use for me, now, Mr. Hartley?" said thetelegraph boy. 

"Not at present, Frank, " said his employer, kindly. 

"Then I will report for duty at the telegraph office. "

"Wait a moment. You have done me a great service. "

"I am glad of that sir, " answered Frank, modestly. 

"You have shown uncommon shrewdness and intelligence. "

Frank looked gratified, and expressed his thanks for the compliment. 

"I want to make you a present, in addition to the wages which youreceive from the office, " said Mr. Hartley. 

"Thank you, sir. "

Mr. Hartley drew from his desk a five-twenty government bond, of onehundred dollars, and handed it to our hero. 

"Do you mean all this for me?" asked Frank, quite overwhelmed by themagnitude of the gift. 

"It is not more than you deserve. I might have given you the money valueof the bond; but I give it to you in this shape, because I hope you willkeep it as an investment. It will yield you six dollars interestannually in gold. I hope the time will come when you will have moreinterest in the same way. "

"I hope I shall, sir. I shall feel quite rich now. "

"You are richer in the qualities which have won you this acknowledgment. How do you like the telegraph service?"

"Very well, sir, for the present. It is much better than being anewsboy. "

"Exactly; but there are positions you would prefer?"

"Yes, sir; I would like to be in some mercantile business, where I mightwork my way up. In a few years I shall be too old for a telegraph boy, and then I shall be out of place. "

"I will relieve your fears on that score. In six months I shall makesome changes in the list of employees. When that time comes I will finda place for you. "

"There is nothing I should like better, sir, " said Frank, his faceflushing with pleasure. 

"I am satisfied that you will make a useful and intelligent clerk. UntilI want you, remain where you are. The discipline of your present officewill do you no harm, but will help qualify you for usefulness andsuccess in the mercantile career. "

"Thank you, sir. Now I have something to look forward to I shall workmuch more cheerfully. "

Frank went back to the office, and resumed his ordinary duties. One dayhe was riding down Broadway in a stage, when he became sensible that hehad attracted the attention of a gentleman sitting opposite. This ledhim to scan the face of the man who was observing him. He at oncerecognized Mr. Haynes. 

The stage was not full, and the latter came over, and took a seat nextto the telegraph boy. 

"Isn't your name Frank Kavanagh?" he asked, abruptly. 

"Yes, sir. "

"Were you not for a short time in the employ of Mr. Hartley?"

"Yes, " answered Frank, feeling embarrassed, for he knew that he wassuspected. 

"I infer from your uniform that you have left Mr. Hartley. "

"Yes. "

"Why did you leave him?" asked Haynes, sharply. 

"Because he had no further occasion for my services. Why did _you_leave him?" asked Frank, in turn. 

James Haynes colored, and looked angry. However, he answered thequestion. 

"I have other business views, " he said, briefly. 

"So have I. "

The next question was also of an embarrassing character. 

"Were you a telegraph boy before you entered Mr. Hartley's employ?"

"I was, " answered Frank. 

"Were you detailed for duty there?"

Our hero thought that he had answered questions enough by this time, andsignified as much to his questioner. 

"If I had been, " he said, "I shouldn't be permitted to inform astranger. "

"I have particular reasons for asking the question, " said Haynes. 

"Then you can ask Mr. Hartley, or the superintendent of my office. Good-morning, sir, I get out here. "

Frank pulled the strap, and got out. But he was not rid of hisquestioner. Haynes got out too, and walked beside our hero. 

"I believe, " he said, sternly, "that you were sent for to act as a spyon me. "

"What makes you think so?" asked the telegraph boy, looking him in theeye. 

"There was a difficulty between Mr. Hartley and myself, occasioned by abase and groundless charge, concocted by some enemy. I believe that youhad something to do with this. "

"I have brought no groundless charge against any one, " said Frank. 

"Did you make any report to Mr. Hartley in regard to me?"

"I must refer you to Mr. Hartley for information, " said Frank. "I havean errand in here;" and he entered a store in the lower part ofBroadway. 

"There is no doubt about it, " thought Haynes. 

"That boy was a spy upon me. I have learned all I cared to. I owe you adebt of gratitude for this, Frank Kavanagh, and mean to pay the debt. "

When Frank came out he thought it possible that Haynes might be waitingfor him; but the disgraced clerk was gone. 

"I suppose he would injure me if he had a chance, " thought the telegraphboy. "I won't give him the chance if I can help it. "

CHAPTER XXV. 

WHAT THE OLD TRUNK CONTAINED. 

Mention has been made of an old trunk belonging to Frank's father, which, had been forwarded to him from the country by his Uncle Pelatiah. It may be mentioned here that our hero's father had been agent of awoollen mill in a large manufacturing town. For a considerable number ofyears he had been in receipt of a handsome salary, and had lived in goodstyle, but still within his income. He was naturally supposed to possessa comfortable property. 

His death was sudden. He was thrown from a carriage, and, striking hishead upon the curbstone, was picked up senseless, and died unconscious. Upon examining into his affairs his administrator was unable to find anyproperty beyond what was needed to pay the few debts he left behind him. So it came about that Frank was left a penniless orphan. His UnclePelatiah was his nearest relative, and to him he was sent. PelatiahKavanagh was not a bad man, nor was he intentionally unkind; but he wasvery close. All his life he had denied himself, to save money; and inthis he had been ably assisted by his wife, who was even closer andmeaner than her husband. It may readily be supposed that it was verydisagreeable to both husband and wife to have a penniless nephew thrownupon their care and protection. 

"How could your brother be so thoughtless and inconsiderate as to use upall his money, and leave his son destitute? Didn't he have a handsomeincome?"

"Yes, " said Pelatiah. "He got two thousand dollars a year, and maybemore. "

"You don't say so!" ejaculated his wife. "He'd ought to have savedtwo-thirds of it. I declare it's scandalous for a man to waste hissubstance in that way. "

"My brother was allus free with his money. He wasn't so keerful as youand I be. "

"I should think not, indeed. We don't begin to spend half as much as hedid, and now he comes upon us to support his child. "

"It don't seem right, " said Pelatiah. 

"Right? It's outrageous!" exclaimed Mrs. Kavanagh, energetically. "Ideclare I have no patience with such a man. It would only be right tosend this boy Frank to the poor-house. "

"The neighbors would talk, " protested Pelatiah, who was half inclined toaccept his wife's view, but was more sensitive to the criticism of thecommunity in which he lived. 

"Let 'em talk!" said his more independent helpmate. "It isn't right thatthis boy should use up the property that we have scraped together forhis cousin Jonathan. "

"We must keep him for a while, Hannah; but I'll get rid of him as soon Ican consistently. "

With this Mrs. Kavanagh had to be satisfied; but, during her nephew'sstay of two months in the farm-house, she contrived to make himuncomfortable by harsh criticisms of his dead father, whom he hadtenderly loved. 

"You must have lived very extravagant, " she said, "or your father wouldhave left a handsome property. "

"I don't think we did, Aunt Hannah. "

"You father kept a carriage, --didn't he?"

"Yes; he had considerable riding to do. "

"How much help did he keep?"

"Only one servant in the kitchen, and a stable-boy. "

"There was no need of a boy. You could have done the work in thestable. "

"I was kept at school. "

"Oh, of course!" sneered his aunt. "You must be brought up as a younggentleman. Our Jonathan never had any such chances, and now you'relivin' on him, or about the same. I suppose you kept an extravaganttable too. What did you generally have for breakfast?"

So Aunt Hannah continued her catechising, much to Frank's discomfort. She commented severely upon the wastefulness of always having pastry fordinner. 

"We can't afford it, " she said, emphatically; "but then again we don'tmean to have our Jonathan beholden to anybody in case your uncle and Iare cast off sudden. What did you have for dinner on Sunday?"

"Meat and pudding and ice-cream, --that is, in warm weather. "

"Ice-cream!" ejaculated Aunt Hannah, holding up both hands. "No wonderyour father didn't leave nothin'. Why, we don't have ice-cream more'nonce a year, and now we can't afford to have it at all, since we've gotanother mouth to feed. "

"I am sorry that you have to stint yourself on my account, " repliedFrank, feeling rather uncomfortable. 

"I suppose it's our cross, " said Mrs. Kavanagh, gloomily; "but it doesseem hard that we can't profit by our prudence because of your father'swasteful extravagance. "

Such remarks were very disagreeable to our young hero, and it was hardfor him to hear his father so criticised. He supposed they must havelived extravagantly, since it was so constantly charged by those abouthim, and he felt puzzled to account for his father's leaving nothing. When, after two months, his uncle and aunt, who had deliberated uponwhat was best to be done, proposed to him to go to New York and try toearn his own living, he caught at the idea. He knew that he might sufferhardships in the new life that awaited him, but if he could supporthimself in any way he would escape from the cruel taunts to which he wasnow forced to listen every day. How he reached the city, and how hesucceeded, my readers know. We now come to the trunk, which, some timeafter its reception, Frank set about examining. 

He found it was filled with clothing belonging to his father. Though apart were in good condition it seemed doubtful whether they would be ofmuch service to him. It occurred to him to examine the pockets of thecoats. In one he found a common yellow envelope, bearing his father'sname. Opening it, he found, to his great astonishment, that it was acertificate of railroad stock, setting forth his father's ownership ofone hundred shares of the capital stock of the said railway. 

Our hero was greatly excited by his discovery. This, then, was the formin which his father had invested his savings. What the shares were worthhe had no idea; but he rejoiced chiefly because now he could defend hisfather from the charge of recklessly spending his entire income, andsaving nothing. He resolved, as soon as he could find time, to visit aWall-street broker, by whom he had occasionally been employed, andinquire the value of the stock. Two days afterwards the opportunitycame, and he availed himself of it at once. 

"Can you tell me the value of these shares, Mr. Glynn?" he asked. 

"They are quoted to-day at one hundred and ten, " answered the broker, referring to a list of the day's stock quotations. 

"Do you mean that each share is worth a hundred and ten dollars?" askedFrank, in excitement. 

"Certainly. "

"Then the whole are worth five thousand five hundred dollars?"

"Rather more; for the last semi-annual dividend has not been collected. To whom do they belong?"

"They did belong to my father. Now I suppose they are mine. "

"Has your father's estate been administered upon?"

"Yes; but these shares had not then been found. "

"Then some legal steps will be necessary before you can take possession, and dispose of them. I will give you the address of a good lawyer, andadvise you to consult him at once. "

Frank did so, and the lawyer wrote to Uncle Pelatiah to acquaint himwith the discovery. The news created great excitement at the farm. 

"Why, Frank's a rich boy!" ejaculated Aunt Hannah. 

"And my brother wasn't so foolishly extravagant as we supposed. "

"That may be; but with his salary we could have saved more. "

"Perhaps we might; but these shares are worth almost six thousanddollars. That's a good deal of money, Hannah. "

"So it is, Pelatiah. I'll tell you what we'd better do. "

"What?"

"Invite Frank to come back and board with us. He can afford to payhandsome board, and it seems better that the money should go to us thana stranger. "

"Just so, Hannah. He could board with us, and go to school. "

"You'd better write and invite him to come. I allus liked the boy, andif we could have afforded it, I'd have been in favor of keepin' him fornothing. "

"So would I, " said his uncle; and he probably believed it, though afterwhat had happened it will be rather difficult for the reader to creditit. 

The letter was written, but Frank had no desire to return to the oldfarm, and the society of his uncle's family. 

"I have got used to the city, " he wrote, "and have made a good manyfriends here. I don't know yet whether I shall take a business position, or go to school; but, if the latter, the schools here are better than inthe country. I hope to come and see you before long; but, I would preferto live in New York. "

"He's gettin' uppish, " said Aunt Hannah, who was considerablydisappointed, for she had made up her mind just how much they couldventure to charge for board, and how this would increase their annualsavings. 

"I suppose it's natural for a boy to prefer the city, " said his uncle. 

"If the boy has a chance to handle his money there won't be much of itleft by the time he's twenty-one, " said Aunt Hannah. "You ought to behis guardian. "

"He has the right to choose his own guardian, " said Uncle Pelatiah. "He'll take some city man likely. "

Frank did, in fact, select the lawyer, having learned that he was a manof high reputation for integrity. He offered it to Mr. Bowen; but thatgentleman, while congratulating his young friend upon his greatlyimproved prospects, said that he was a man of books rather than ofbusiness, and would prefer that some other person be selected. 

The next thing was to resign his place as telegraph boy. 

"We are sorry to lose you, " said the superintendent. "Your are one ofour best boys. Do you wish to go at once?"

"No, sir; I will stay till the end of the month. "

"Very well. We shall be glad to have you. "

Three weeks yet remained till the close of the month. It was not long, but before the time had passed Frank found himself in a very unpleasantpredicament, from no fault of his own, but in consequence of the enmityof the clerk whom he had been instrumental in displacing. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

A TRAP, AND WHO FELL INTO IT. 

No one rejoiced more sincerely at Frank's good luck than Mrs. Vivian. Her interest in our hero had increased, and while at first she regardedherself as his patroness she had come now to look upon him as a memberof the family. Fred had already returned, and Frank, bearing in mindthat he had only been invited to remain during his absence, proposed tofind another home, but Mrs. Vivian would not hear of it. 

"No, " she said, "Fred needs a young companion, and I prefer you to anyone I know of. "

As Fred was of his mother's opinion, Frank readily agreed to stay. Heoccupied a room adjoining the one assigned to Fred, and during his hoursof leisure the two were constantly together. 

"I shall be glad when you leave the telegraph office, " said Fred. "Thenwe can be together more. "

"You may get tired of me. "

"If I do I will let you know. "

Two days afterwards Frank was riding down town in a Sixth-avenue car. Until he had taken his seat he was not aware that James Haynes was apassenger. When a lady who sat between them got out, Haynes moved up, soas to sit next to our hero. 

"I see you are still in the telegraph service, " he said. 

"Yes, sir, " answered Frank, briefly. 

"I wonder Mr. Hartley didn't offer you a permanent position in hisemploy, " said Haynes, with a sneer. "Spies are useful sometimes. "

"He may give me a position sometime, " said Frank, not regarding thesneer. 

"You earned it, " said Haynes, unpleasantly. 

"Thank you, " said Frank, knowing that Haynes would be provoked by hisappearing to accept the compliment in good faith. 

Haynes scowled, but said no more. He drew a morning paper from hispocket, and appeared to be absorbed in reading it. 

At Canal street Frank rose to leave the car. He had not yet reached thedoor, when Haynes sprang to his feet, followed him quickly, and, grasping him by the arm, said, "Not so fast young man! Give me back mypocket-book. "

Frank was struck with amazement. 

"What do you mean?" he asked, indignantly. 

"I mean that you have relieved me of my pocket-book. Gentlemen, " turningto his fellow-passengers, "I demand that this boy be searched. "

"You can search me if you like, " said Frank. "You know very well thatyour accusation is false. "

"I shall be satisfied if you produce what is in your pockets. "

"That's fair, " said a passenger. 

Our hero thrust his hand into his pocket. To his dismay he drew out aRussia-leather pocket-book, of which he knew nothing. 

"That is my pocket-book, gentlemen, " said Haynes, triumphantly. "I cantell you exactly what is in it. You will find two five-dollar bills, atwo and a one. Be kind enough to examine it, sir. "

The pocket-book was examined, and, of course, Haynes was correct. 

Suspicious glances were directed at poor Frank. Innocent as he was, hewas so overwhelmed by the suddenness of the charge, and the apparentproof of it, that he looked confused and embarrassed. 

"You are beginning early, my boy, " said a tall gentleman, in a whitecravat, --a clergyman. "It is well that you are checked in the beginningof a guilty career. "

"Sir, " said Frank, "I am as innocent as you are. This man is my enemy, and he must have put the pocket-book in my pocket. He threatened sometime since to get me into a scrape. "

"That story is rather too thin, " said Haynes, looking around him with asneer. "You won't find any one here quite verdant enough to believeit. "

"There you are mistaken, " said a gentleman who was seated directlyopposite to Haynes and Frank. "_I_ believe it. "

Haynes scowled at him malignantly. 

"I really don't think it very important what you believe, sir. The boyis evidently a professional thief, and you may belong to the same gangfor aught I know. I propose to give him in charge to the next policemanwe meet. "

"Do so, " said the stranger, coolly. "I shall be present at his trial, and offer some important testimony. "

"Indeed!" said Haynes, uneasily. "May I ask what it is?"

"Certainly. _I saw you thrust the wallet into the boy's pocket!_ Of thatI am willing to make oath. "

James Haynes turned pale. There was a sudden change in public opinion. It was he who now had become an object of suspicion. 

"Young man, " said the clergyman, solemnly, "what could have induced youto enter into such a wicked conspiracy against the poor boy?"

"Mind your own business!" said Haynes, rudely. "It is a lie. "

"It is the truth, " said the volunteer witness, calmly. 

Here a policeman became visible from the car-window, leisurely walkinghis beat on the western sidewalk. 

"There's a policeman, " said Frank's new friend. "Call him, and have theboy arrested. "

"He would be cleared by false testimony, " said Haynes, sullenly. "I havemy money back, and will let him go. "

"Then, " said the stranger, rising, and displaying the badge of adetective, "I shall arrest you on a charge of conspiracy. "

Haynes was fairly caught in his own trap. 

"This is a put-up job, gentlemen, " he said. "Am I to be robbed first, and arrested afterwards for exposing the thief?"

He looked about him appealingly; but in vain. Public sentiment waswholly against him now. 

"O you ould villain!" said a stout Irish woman, "to try to ruin thepoor b'ye. Hangin's too good for you. "

This was rather an extreme sentiment; but Haynes saw that he was inperil. He gave an unexpected spring, and, reaching the platform, sprangout, running up a side street. 

"Do you know him?" asked the detective of Frank. 

"Yes, sir. "

"How do you account for his hostility to you?"

Frank briefly recounted the story already known to the reader. 

"He can easily be found then. "

"I hope you will not arrest him, sir, " said Frank. "He has been prettywell punished already, and I don't think he will trouble me again. "

"If he does, send for me, " and the detective handed Frank his card andaddress. 

"It is fortunate for me, " said the telegraph boy, "that you saw him putthe money in my pocket. "

"You would have experienced some inconvenience; but the story you havetold me would have cleared you with the jury. "

"My young friend, " said the clergyman, "I owe you an apology. I toohastily assumed that you were guilty. "

"It looked like it, sir. You were quite justified in what you said. Mr. Haynes did not appear to relish your remarks to him, " added Frank, laughing. 

"His crime was greater and meaner than the one charged upon you. Tosteal is certainly a grave offence, --yet sometimes it is prompted bynecessity; but a deliberate attempt to fasten a false charge upon afellow-creature is vastly more atrocious. "

"So it is, sir, " said the old Irish woman, nodding assent vigorously. "Iquite agree wid your honor. It is owtracious. "

The passengers smiled at the old woman's mistake; but it was clear thatthey agreed with her in sentiment. 

Meanwhile the car had been speeding along, and was near its terminus. Frank bethought himself that he had been carried considerably beyondhis destination. 

He pulled the bell, and, as he got out, he said, "Thank you all fortaking my part. "

"We don't quite deserve that, " said one of the passengers, after Frankhad left the car. "I was at first of opinion that the boy was guilty. "

"We have been saved from doing a great injustice, " said the clergyman. "It should be a lesson to all of us not to be too hasty in ourjudgments. "

James Haynes in his hurried exit from the car fully believed that hewould be pursued and arrested. He was relieved to find his fearsgroundless. But he was disappointed at the failure of his scheme. He hadcarefully prepared it, and for several days he had been in readiness tocarry it into execution whenever he should meet Frank. This morning hadbrought the opportunity; but it had miscarried. 

"But for that cursed detective I would have carried the thing through, "he muttered. "He spoiled all. I _hate_ that boy!"

But, though revengeful, Haynes was prudent. He gave up the thought ofinjuring Frank because he saw that it would be dangerous to himself. Hedid not remain long in New York, but soon joined his confederate inHartford. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

FRANK BECOMES A GOOD SAMARITAN. 

The close of the month came, and Frank laid aside his uniform. He was atelegraph boy no more. 

The superintendent shook hands with him cordially, and bade him good-by. 

"Come and see us sometimes, " he said. "I wish you all success. Yourservices have been very satisfactory, and you have gained an excellentreputation. "

"Thank you, sir, " said Frank. "I have tried to do my duty. Good-by, boys!"

He shook hands with all his young comrades, with whom he was verypopular. They knew of his good fortune, and were disposed to regard himas very rich. Six thousand dollars in a boy's eyes is a fortune. 

"Now you're rich, Frank, I suppose you won't notice the likes of us, "said Johnny O'Connor. 

"I hope you don't think as badly of me as that, Johnny, " said Frank, earnestly. "I am not rich; but, even if I were, I should always be gladto meet any of you. If I am ever able to do a favor to any of you Iwill. "

"I believe you, Frank, " said Johnny. "You was always a good feller. "

"Where's Tom Brady?" asked Frank, looking about him. "Is he out on anerrand?"

"Tom's sick, " said the superintendent. "He's got a fever. "

"It's bad for him, " said Johnny, "for his mother and sister depended onTom's wages. Poor Tom felt bad because he had to give up work. "

"Where does he live?" asked Frank, with quick sympathy. 

"No. -- East Fourteenth street, " answered Johnny. "I know, because Ilive in the same block. "

"I'll go and see him. "

Frank's heart was not hardened by his own prosperity. He knew what itwas to be poor, and could enter into the feelings of the unfortunatetelegraph boy. 

Half an hour found him in front of a large tenement-house, in front ofwhich were playing children of all ages, most of them showing in theirfaces that unhealthy pallor which so generally marks a tenement-housepopulation. 

"Do you know where Mrs. Brady lives?" asked Frank of a girl of twelve. 

"Which Brady is it?" asked the girl. "There's three lives here. "

"It's Tom Brady's mother, " answered our hero. 

"Is it Tom, the telegraph boy?"

"Yes. "

"I'll show you then. Tom's been sick for some time. "

"I know it. I have come to see him. "

"Do you know Tom?" asked the girl, in some surprise; for Frank, havinglaid aside his uniform, was handsomely dressed, and looked like the sonof a rich man. 

"Yes, Tom is a friend of mine. I am sorry he's sick. "

Up two flights of rickety stairs Frank followed the girl, who haltedbefore a door. 

"That's the place, " said his young guide, and disappeared down thestairs, sliding down the banisters. Young ladies in the best society donot often indulge in this amusement, but Mary Murphy knew little ofetiquette or conventionality. 

In answer to Frank's knock, the door was opened by Mrs. Brady, a poorlyclad and care-worn woman. 

"What is your wish, young gentleman?" she said. 

"I've come to see Tom. How is he?"

"Do you know my Tom?" asked Mrs. Brady, in surprise. 

"Yes; is he very sick?"

"The poor boy has got a fever. "

"Can I see him?"

"If you'll come into such a poor place, sir. We're very poor, and nowthat Tom's wages is stopped I don't know how we'll get along at all. "

"Better than you think, perhaps, Mrs. Brady, " said Frank, cheerfully. "Why, Tom, what made you get sick?"

He had entered the room, and reached the bed on which the sick boy waslying. 

Tom looked up in surprise and pleasure. 

"Is it you, Frank?" he said. "I'm glad you've come to see me. But howdid you find me out?"

"Johnny O'Connor told me where you lived. How long have you been sick?"

"Three days. It's rough on a poor boy like me. I ought to be earningmoney for my mother. "

"We'll miss Tom's wages badly, " said Mrs. Brady; "I can't earn muchmyself, and there's three of us to feed, let alone the rint. "

"How did you get off, Frank?" asked Tom. 

"I've left the office. "

"Was this young gentleman a telegraph boy?" asked Mrs. Brady, insurprise. 

"Yes, " said Tom; "but he's come into a fortune, and now he won't have towork. "

"I'm sure I'm glad of his good luck, and it's a great condescension fora rich young gentleman to come and see my Tom. "

"I have come into some money, but not a fortune, Mrs. Brady, " saidFrank; "but it does not make me any better than when I was a poortelegraph boy. "

Evidently Mrs. Brady was not of this opinion, for she carefully dustedwith her apron the best chair in the room, and insisted on Frank'sseating himself in it. 

"Have you had a doctor, Mrs. Brady?" asked Frank. 

"Yes. "

"What does he say?"

"He says that Tom will be sick for three or four weeks, and I don't knowwhat we'll do without his wages all that time. "

"That's what troubles me, " said Tom. "I wouldn't mind it so much if I'dget my pay reg'lar while I'm sick. "

"Then you needn't be troubled, Tom, " said Frank, promptly, "for youshall get it regularly. "

"They won't give it to me, " said Tom, incredulously. 

"They won't, but I will. "

"Do you mean it, Frank?"

"Certainly I do. I will give you a week's pay this morning, and I willcall every week, and pay you the same. "

"Do you hear that, mother?" said Tom, joyfully. 

"God bless you, young gentleman, for your kindness to us!" said Mrs. Brady, gratefully. 

"Oh, it isn't much, " said Frank; "I can spare it well enough. I have hadsuch good luck myself that I ought to do something for those who needit. "

"You're a good feller, Frank, " said Tom, warmly. "I'll get well quicknow. If you ever want anybody to fight for you, just call on Tom Brady. "

"I generally do my own fighting, Tom, " said Frank, laughing, "but I'llremember your offer. When you are well, you must come and spend anevening with me. "

"I'm sure he'll be proud to do the same, " said Mrs. Brady. 

"I must bid you good-by, now, Tom. Keep a 'stiff upper lip, ' and don'tbe down-hearted. We must all be sick sometimes, you know, and you'llsoon be well. "

"I won't be down-hearted now, " said Tom, "with my wages comin' inreg'lar. Remember me to the boys, Frank. "

"I will, Tom. "

When Frank reached home he found a large, overgrown boy, with big redhands, and clothes of rural cut, who apparently did not know what to dowith his legs and arms, waiting to see him. 

It was his cousin Jonathan. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A COUNTRY COUSIN. 

Jonathan was a loose-jointed, heavily built, and awkward boy ofseventeen, bearing not the slightest resemblance to his cousin Frank. Still he was a relation, and our hero was glad to see him. 

"How are you, Jonathan?" said Frank, cordially. "I wasn't expecting tosee you. Are all well at home?"

"They're pooty smart, " answered Jonathan. "I thought I'd come down andlook round a little. "

"I shall be glad to show you round. Where would you like to go?--toCentral Park?"

"I don't care much about it, " said the country cousin. "It's only a bigpasture, dad says. I'd rather go round the streets. Is there any placewhere I can buy a few doughnuts? I feel kinder empty. "

"Do you prefer doughnuts to anything else?" asked Frank, with a smile. 

"I hear they're cheap, --only a cent apiece, " answered Jonathan, "and Icalc'late five or six will be enough to fill me up. "

"You needn't mind the expense, cousin; I shall pay for your dinner. "

Jonathan's heavy face lighted up with satisfaction. 

"I don't care if you do, " he said. "I hear you've got a lot of moneynow, Frank. "

"I shall have enough, to make me comfortable, and start me in business. "

"I wish I had as much money as you, " said Jonathan, longingly. 

"You are all right. Some time you will have more than I. "

"I don't know about that. Dad keeps me awful close. "

"You have all you want, don't you?"

"I've got some money in the bank, " said Jonathan, "but I'd like to putin more. I never thought you'd have more money than I. "

"You used to tell me I ought to go to the poor-house, " said Frank, smiling. 

"That's because you was livin' on dad, you know, " explained Jonathan. "It wasn't fair to me, because he wouldn't have so much to leave me. "

In the country Frank had not found much satisfaction in the company ofhis cousin, who inherited the combined meanness of both parents, andappeared to grudge poor Frank every mouthful he ate; but in the sunshineof his present prosperity he was disposed to forgive and forget. 

Frank led the way to a restaurant not far away, where he allowed hiscousin to order an ample dinner, which he did without scruple, since hewas not to pay for it. 

"It costs a sight to live in the city, " he said, as he looked over thebill of fare. 

"It costs something in the country, too, Jonathan. "

"I wish you'd come and board with dad. He'd take you for five dollars aweek, and it will cost you more in New York. "

"Yes, it will cost me more here. "

"Then you'll come, won't you? You'll be company for me. "

Frank doubted whether Jonathan would be much company for him. 

"You didn't use to think so, Jonathan. "

"You couldn't pay your board then. "

"Now that I can I prefer to remain in the city. I mean to go to school, and get a good education. "

"How much do you have to pay for board here?"

"I can't tell what I shall have to pay. At present I am staying withfriends, and pay nothing. "

"Do you think they'd take me for a week the same way?" asked Jonathan, eagerly. "I'd like to stay a week first-rate if it didn't cost nothing. "

"I shouldn't like to ask them; but some time I will invite you to comeand pay me a visit of a week; it shall not cost you anything. "

"You're a real good feller, Frank, " said Jonathan, highly pleased by theinvitation. "I'll come any time you send for me. It's pretty highpayin' on the railroad, but I guess I can come. "

Frank understood the hint, but did not feel called upon to pay hiscousin's railway fare in addition to his week's board. 

"What do you think of that?" asked Jonathan, presently, displaying ahuge ring on one of his red fingers. 

"Is that something you have bought in the city?" asked Frank. 

"Yes, " answered his cousin, complacently. "I got it at a bargain. "

"Did you buy it in a jewelry store?"

"No; I'll tell you how it was. I was goin' along the street, when I sawa well-dressed feller, who looked kinder anxious. He come up to me, andhe said, 'Do you know any one who wants to buy a splendid gold ringcheap?' Then he told me he needed some money right off to buy vittlesfor his family, bein' out of work for a month. He said the ring cost himfifteen dollars, and he'd sell it for three. I wasn't goin' to pay nosuch price, and I finally beat him down to a dollar, " said Jonathan, chuckling. "I guess that's doing pretty well for one day. He said anyjeweller would pay me six or seven dollars for it. "

"Then why didn't he sell it to a jeweller him self, instead of giving itto you for a dollar?"

"I never thought of that, " said Jonathan, looking puzzled. 

"I am afraid it is not so good a bargain as you supposed, " said Frank. 

Great drops of perspiration came out on Jonathan's brow. 

"You don't think it's brass, do you?" he gasped. 

"Here is a jewelry store. We can go in and inquire. "

They entered the store, and Frank, calling attention to the ring, inquired its probable value. 

"It might be worth about three cents, " said the jeweller, laughing. "Ihope you didn't give much more for it. "

"I gave a dollar, " said Jonathan, in a voice which betrayed hisanguish. 

"Of whom did you buy it?"

"Of a man in the street. "

"Served you right, then. You should have gone to a regular jewelrystore. "

"The man said it cost him fifteen dollars, " said Jonathan, sadly. 

"I dare say. He was a professional swindler, no doubt. "

"I'd like to give him a lickin', " said Jonathan, wrathfully, as theyleft the store. 

"What would you do if you was me?" he asked of his cousin. 

"Throw it away. "

"I wouldn't do that. Maybe I can sell it up in the country, " he said, his face brightening up. 

"For how much?"

"For what I gave. "

"But that would be swindling. "

"No, it wouldn't. I have a right to ask as much as I gave. It's realhandsome if it is brass. "

"I don't think that would be quite honest, Jonathan. "

"You wouldn't have me lose the dollar, would you? That would be smart. "

"I would rather be honest than be smart. "

Jonathan dropped the subject, but eventually he sold the ring at homefor a dollar and a quarter. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

CONCLUSION. 

After he had accompanied his cousin to the depot, where he took the carsfor home, Frank met Victor Dupont, on Madison avenue. 

"Where's your uniform?" he asked. 

"I have taken it off. "

"Aint you a telegraph boy any longer?"

"No, I have left the office. "

"They turned you off, I suppose, " said Victor, with a sneer. 

"They would like to have had me stay longer, " said Frank, with a smile. 

Victor shrugged his shoulders incredulously. 

"Are you going back to your old business of selling papers?" he asked. 

"I think not. "

"What are you going to do for a living?"

"I am much obliged to you for your interest in my affairs, Victor; Idon't mean to go to work at all at present, --I am going to school. "

"How are you going to pay your expenses, then?" asked Victor, insurprise. 

"I have had some money left me. "

"Is that so? How much?"

"Some thousands of dollars, --enough to support me while I am getting aneducation. "

"Who left it to you?"

"My father left it, but I have only just received it. "

"You are awfully lucky, " said Victor, evidently annoyed. "Are you goingto live with the Vivians?"

"I don't know. "

"I shouldn't think you would. It would be imposing upon them. "

"Thank you for your kind advice. Won't you take me to board at yourhouse?"

"We don't take boarders, " said Victor, haughtily. 

It so happened that Frank entered himself as a scholar at the schoolwhere Victor was a student, and was put in the same class. Frank atonce took a higher place, and in time graduated with the highest honors, while Victor came out nearly at the foot. 

Frank did remain with the Vivians; they would not hear of his leavingthem, nor would they permit him to pay any board. 

"You are a companion for Fred, " said Mrs. Vivian, "and you exert a goodinfluence over him. Having your company, he does not wish to seeksociety outside. You must let me look upon you as one of my boys, andaccept a home with us. "

Against this, Frank could urge no objection. He was offered a home farmore attractive than a boarding-house, which his presence made moresocial and attractive. Having no board to provide for, the income of hislittle property was abundant to supply his other wants, and, when heleft school, it was unimpaired. 

It was a serious question with our hero whether he would continue hisstudies through a collegiate course. He finally decided in the negative, and accepted a good position in the mercantile establishment of Mr. Hartley. Here he displayed such intelligence and aptitude for businessthat he rose rapidly, and in time acquired an interest in the firm, andwill in time obtain a junior partnership. It must not be supposed thatall this came without hard work. It had always been Frank's custom todischarge to the utmost of his ability the duties of any position inwhich he was placed. To this special trait of our hero, most of hissuccess was owing. 

Our hero had the satisfaction of giving a place to his companion in thetelegraph office, Tom Brady, who was in time able to earn such a salaryas raised his mother and sister above want. Frank did not forget his oldstreet comrade, Dick Rafferty, but gave him a position as porter, Dick'seducation not being sufficient to qualify him for a clerkship. He evensought out old Mills, the blind man, to whom he had small reason to feelgrateful; but found that the old man had suddenly died, leaving behindhim, to the surprise of every one who knew him, several hundred dollarsin gold and silver, which were claimed by a sister of the deceased, towhom they were most acceptable. 

Here end the experiences of the Telegraph Boy. He has been favored abovemost of his class; but the qualities which helped him achieve successare within the reach of all. Among the busy little messengers who flitabout the city, in all directions, there are some, no doubt, who will inyears to come command a success and prosperity as great as our hero hasattained. In a republic like our own, the boy who begins at the bottomof the ladder may in time reach the highest round. 

THE END. 

HORATIO ALGER, JR. 

The enormous sales of the books of Horatio Alger, Jr. , show thegreatness of his popularity among the boys, and prove that he is one oftheir most favored writers. I am told that more than half a millioncopies altogether have been sold, and that all the large circulatinglibraries in the country have several complete sets, of which only twoor three volumes are ever on the shelves at one time. If this is true, what thousands and thousands of boys have read and are reading Mr. Alger's books! His peculiar style of stories, often imitated but neverequaled, have taken a hold upon the young people, and, despite theirsimilarity, are eagerly read as soon as they appear. 

Mr. Alger became famous with the publication of that undying book, "Ragged Dick, or Street Life in New York. " It was his first book foryoung people, and its success was so great that he immediately devotedhimself to that kind of writing. It was a new and fertile field for awriter then, and Mr. Alger's treatment of it at once caught the fancy ofthe boys. "Ragged Dick" first appeared in 1868, and ever since then ithas been selling steadily, until now it is estimated that about 200, 000copies of the series have been sold. --"Pleasant Hours for Boys andGirls. "

 * * * * *

A writer for boys should have an abundant sympathy with them. He shouldbe able to enter into their plans, hopes, and aspirations. He shouldlearn to look upon life as they do. Boys object to be written down to. Aboy's heart opens to the man or writer who understands him. --From"Writing Stories for Boys, " by Horatio Alger, Jr. 

FAMOUS ALGER BOOKS. 

RAGGED DICK SERIES. 

 RAGGED DICK. FAME AND FORTUNE. MARK THE MATCH BOY. ROUGH AND READY. BEN THE LUGGAGE BOY. RUFUS AND ROSE. 

TATTERED TOM SERIES. 

 TATTERED TOM. PAUL THE PEDDLER. PHIL THE FIDDLER. SLOW AND SURE. 

TATTERED TOM SERIES. SECOND SERIES. 

 JULIUS. THE YOUNG OUTLAW. SAM'S CHANCE. THE TELEGRAPH BOY. 

CAMPAIGN SERIES. 

 FRANK'S CAMPAIGN. PAUL PRESCOTT'S CHARGE. CHARLIE CODMAN'S CRUISE. 

LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES. FIRST SERIES. 

 LUCK AND PLUCK. SINK OR SWIM. STRONG AND STEADY. STRIVE AND SUCCEED. 

LUCK AND PLUCK SERIES. SECOND SERIES. 

 TRY AND TRUST. BOUND TO RISE. RISEN FROM THE RANKS. HERBERT CARTER'S LEGACY. 

BRAVE AND BOLD SERIES. 

 BRAVE AND BOLD. JACK'S WARD. SHIFTING FOR HIMSELF. WAIT AND HOPE. 

PACIFIC SERIES. 

 THE YOUNG ADVENTURER. THE YOUNG MINER. THE YOUNG EXPLORERS. BEN'S NUGGET. 

ATLANTIC SERIES. 

 THE YOUNG CIRCUS RIDER. DO AND DARE. HECTOR'S INHERITANCE. HELPING HIMSELF. 

WAY TO SUCCESS SERIES. 

 BOB BURTON. THE STORE BOY. LUKE WALTON. STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

NEW WORLD SERIES. 

 DIGGING FOR GOLD. FACING THE WORLD. IN A NEW WORLD. 

VICTORY SERIES. 

 ONLY AN IRISH BOY. ADRIFT IN THE CITY. VICTOR VANE, OR THE YOUNG SECRETARY. 

FRANK AND FEARLESS SERIES. 

 FRANK HUNTER'S PERIL. FRANK AND FEARLESS. THE YOUNG SALESMAN. 

GOOD FORTUNE LIBRARY. 

 WALTER SHERWOOD'S PROBATION. A BOY'S FORTUNE. THE YOUNG BANK MESSENGER. 

HOW TO RISE LIBRARY. 

 JED, THE POORHOUSE BOY. RUPERT'S AMBITION. LESTER'S LUCK. 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 'S POPULAR JUVENILES: HARRY CASTLEMON BOOKS

HOW I CAME TO WRITE MY FIRST BOOK. 

When I was sixteen years old I belonged to a composition class. It wasour custom to go on the recitation seat every day with clean slates, andwe were allowed ten minutes to write seventy words on any subject theteacher thought suited to our capacity. One day he gave out "What a ManWould See if He Went to Greenland. " My heart was in the matter, andbefore the ten minutes were up I had one side of my slate filled. Theteacher listened to the reading of our compositions, and when they wereall over he simply said: "Some of you will make your living by writingone of these days. " That gave me something to ponder upon. I did not sayso out loud, but I knew that my composition was as good as the best ofthem. By the way, there was another thing that came in my way just then. I was reading at that time one of Mayne Reid's works which I had drawnfrom the library, and I pondered upon it as much as I did upon what theteacher said to me. In introducing Swartboy to his readers he made useof this expression: "No visible change was observable in Swartboy'scountenance. " Now, it occurred to me that if a man of his educationcould make such a blunder as that and still write a book, I ought to beable to do it, too. I went home that very day and began a story, "TheOld Guide's Narrative, " which was sent to the _New York Weekly_, andcame back, respectfully declined. It was written on both sides of thesheets but I didn't know that this was against the rules. Nothingabashed, I began another, and receiving some instruction, from a friendof mine who was a clerk in a book store, I wrote it on only one side ofthe paper. But mind you, he didn't know what I was doing. Nobody knewit; but one day, after a hard Saturday's work--the other boys had beenout skating on the brick-pond--I shyly broached the subject to mymother. I felt the need of some sympathy. She listened in amazement, andthen said: "Why, do you think you could write a book like that?" Thatsettled the matter, and from that day no one knew what I was up to untilI sent the first four volumes of Gunboat Series to my father. Was itwork? Well, yes; it was hard work, but each week I had the satisfactionof seeing the manuscript grow until the "Young Naturalist" was allcomplete. --_Harry Castlemon in the Writer. _

GUNBOAT SERIES. 

 Frank the Young Naturalist. Frank on a Gunboat. Frank in the Woods. Frank before Vicksburg. Frank on the Lower Mississippi. Frank on the Prairie. 

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES. 

 Frank Among the Rancheros. Frank in the Mountains. Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho. 

SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES. 

 The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle. The Sportsman's Club Among the Trappers. The Sportsman's Club Afloat. 

FRANK NELSON SERIES. 

 Snowed up. Frank in the Forecastle. The Boy Traders. 

ROUGHING IT SERIES. 

 George in Camp. George at the Fort. George at the Wheel. 

ROD AND GUN SERIES. 

 Don Gordon's Shooting Box. The Young Wild Fowlers. Rod and Gun Club. 

GO-AHEAD SERIES. 

 Tom Newcombe. Go-Ahead. No Moss. 

WAR SERIES. 

 True to His Colors. Rodney the Partisan. Rodney the Overseer. Marcy the Blockade-Runner. Marcy the Refugee. Sailor Jack the Trader. 

HOUSEBOAT SERIES. 

 The Houseboat Boys. The Mystery of Lost River Cañon. The Young Game Warden. 

AFLOAT AND ASHORE SERIES. 

 Rebellion in Dixie. A Sailor in Spite of Himself. The Ten-Ton Cutter. 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 'S POPULAR JUVENILES: J. T. TROWBRIDGE. 

Neither as a writer does he stand apart from the great currents of lifeand select some exceptional phase or odd combination of circumstances. He stands on the common level and appeals to the universal heart, andall that he suggests or achieves is on the plane and in the line ofmarch of the great body of humanity. 

The Jack Hazard series of stories, published in the late _Our YoungFolks_, and continued in the first volume of _St. Nicholas_, under thetitle of "Fast Friends, " is no doubt destined to hold a high place inthis class of literature. The delight of the boys in them (and of theirseniors, too) is well founded. They go to the right spot every time. Trowbridge knows the heart of a boy like a book, and the heart of a man, too, and he has laid them both open in these books in a most successfulmanner. Apart from the qualities that render the series so attractive toall young readers, they have great value on account of theirportraitures of American country life and character. The drawing iswonderfully accurate, and as spirited as it is true. The constable, Sellick, is an original character, and as minor figures where will wefind anything better than Miss Wansey, and Mr. P. Pipkin, Esq. Thepicture of Mr. Dink's school, too, is capital, and where else in fictionis there a better nick-name than that the boys gave to poor littleStephen Treadwell, "Step Hen, " as he himself pronounced his name in anunfortunate moment when he saw it in print for the first time in hislesson in school. 

On the whole, these books are very satisfactory, and afford the criticalreader the rare pleasure of the works that are just adequate, thateasily fulfill themselves and accomplish all they set out todo. --_Scribner's Monthly_. 

JACK HAZARD SERIES. 

 Jack Hazard and His Fortunes. The Young Surveyor. Fast Friends. Doing His Best. A Chance for Himself. Lawrence's Adventures. 

CHARLES ASBURY STEPHENS. 

This author wrote his "Camping Out Series" at the very height of hismental and physical powers. 

 "We do not wonder at the popularity of these books; there is a freshness and variety about them, and an enthusiasm in the description of sport and adventure, which even the older folk can hardly fail to share. "--_Worcester Spy. _

 "The author of the Camping Out Series is entitled to rank as decidedly at the head of what may be called boys' literature. "--_Buffalo Courier. _

CAMPING OUT SERIES. 

CAMPING OUT. As Recorded by "Kit. "

 "This book is bright, breezy, wholesome, instructive, and stands above the ordinary boys' books of the day by a whole head and shoulders. "--_The Christian Register, Boston_. 

LEFT ON LABRADOR; OR, THE CRUISE OF THE SCHOONER YACHT "CURLEW. " AsRecorded by "Wash. "

 "The perils of the voyagers, the narrow escapes, their strange expedients, and the fun and jollity when danger had passed, will make boys even unconscious of hunger. "--_New Bedford Mercury. _

OFF TO THE GEYSERS; OR THE YOUNG YACHTERS IN ICELAND. AS RECORDED BY"WADE. "

 "It is difficult to believe that Wade and Raed and Kit and Wash were not live boys, sailing up Hudson Straits, and reigning temporarily over an Esquimaux tribe. "--_The Independent, New York. _

LYNX HUNTING: From Notes by the Author of "Camping Out. "

 "Of first quality as a boys' book, and fit to take its place beside the best. "--_Richmond Enquirer. _

FOX HUNTING. As Recorded by "Raed. "

 "The most spirited and entertaining book that has as yet appeared. It overflows with incident, and is characterized by dash and brilliancy throughout. "--_Boston Gazette. _

ON THE AMAZON; OR, THE CRUISE OF THE "RAMBLER. " As Recorded by "Wash. "

 "Gives vivid pictures of Brazilian adventure and scenery. "--_Buffalo Courier. _

FAMOUS STANDARD JUVENILES FOR GIRLS

A GOOD GIRL'S BOOK IS HARD TO FIND!

One often hears the above quoted. _These_ books have stood the tests oftime and careful mothers, and will be of the greatest interest to girlsof all ages. Free from any unhealthy sensationalism, yet full ofincident and romance, they are the cream of the best girls' bookspublished. 

WAYS AND MEANS LIBRARY. By Margaret Vandegrift. 

 Queen's Body Guard. Rose Raymond's Wards. Doris and Theodora. Ways and Means. 

STORIES FOR GIRLS. 

 Dr. Gilbert's Daughters. Marion Berkley. Hartwell Farm. 

HONEST ENDEAVOR LIBRARY. By Lucy C. Lillie. 

 The Family Dilemma. Allison's Adventures. Ruth Endicott's Way. 

MILBROOK LIBRARY. By Lucy C. Lillie. 

 Helen Glenn. The Squire's Daughter. Esther's Fortune. For Honor's Sake. 

RECENT SUCCESSES

The following, though of recent date, have at once reached such a heightof popularity that they can already be classified as standards. 

 Lady Green Satin. By Baroness Deschesney. Marion Berkley. By Elizabeth B. Comins. Lenny, the Orphan. By Margaret Hosmer. Family Dilemma. By Lucy C. Lillie. Question of Honor. By Lynde Palmer Girl's Ordeal, A. By Lucy C. Lillie. Elinor Belden; or The Step Brothers. By Lucy C. Lillie. Where Honor Leads. By Lynde Palmer. Under the Holly. By Margaret Hosmer. Two Bequests. The; or, Heavenward Led. By Jane R. Sommere. The Thistles of Mount Cedar. By Ursula Tannenforst. 

HURLBUT'S STORY OF THE BIBLE told for YOUNG AND OLD

by Rev. Jesse Lyman Hurlbut, D. D. 

A Veritable "Arabian Nights" of Entertainment Containing 168 CompleteIllustrated Stories

THE BIBLE MADE FASCINATING TO CHILDREN. --The heroes and the noble menand women of the Bible are made to appear as living, acting people. Thebook is an original work, and in no sense an imitation. It has been inpreparation for a number of years. 

THE DISTINGUISHED AUTHOR. --Dr. Hurlbut has long been associated with, and director of, the Sunday School work of one of the largestdenominations, and he has been more closely associated with the detailwork of the Chautauqua movement than has any other man. He is also wellknown as a writer. 

REMARKABLE FOR THE BEAUTY AND NUMBER OF ITS ILLUSTRATIONS. --There aresixteen pictures in color prepared for this work by the distinguishedartist, W. H. Margetson, and reproduced with the beauty andattractiveness of the artist's original work. There are also nearly 300half-tone engravings in this remarkable book, which is as original inthe selection of its illustrations as it is in its stories. 

WHAT OTHERS THINK OF IT

 "It is a needed and original work. Not an imitation. "--_Christian Advocate_, New York. 

 "Written in such a style as to fascinate and hold the interest of child or man. "--REV. F. E. CLARK, Pres. Society of Christian Endeavor. 

 "It is a beautiful book. I hope every family in the land will secure 'Hurlbut's Story of the Bible, '"--GENERAL O. O. HOWARD. 

 "The best book of its kind, and that kind the most important. "--REV. JAMES A. WORDEN, Presbyterian B'd of Pub. And S. S. Work. 

 "I like very much the vocabulary you have used, and I can see how careful you have been in choosing understandable words. "--MR. PHILIP E. HOWARD, _Sunday-School Times_, Philadelphia. 

 "It is the completest and best thing of the kind I have seen. The book is splendidly illustrated. " MARIAN LAWRANCE, General Secretary International Sunday-School Association. 

 "Many will be drawn to the Bible who otherwise might look upon it as only adapted for older people. "--HON. DAVID J. BREWER, Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States.