one of the rooms over the barn,
but he changed his mind.

"Let the boy hoe his own row. It will do him good," he thought to
himself.

Horace Sumner was a self-made man, and he knew that self reliance is one
of the best traits a boy can cultivate.

"I am going over to the Third Avenue elevated now," he said. "Remember,
I expect to see you at ten sharp."

"I will be on hand, sir," returned Hal.

"Then good-night."

"Good-night, Mr. Sumner, and much obliged."

Hal watched the gentleman cross City Hall Park, and then started up
Broadway.

The brilliant holiday display in the show windows charmed him, and he
spent fully two hours in looking at all that was to be seen.

"Who knows but what I may go to work to-morrow, and then I won't get
much chance to look around," he reasoned to himself.

He was accustomed to work at the poor-house from six in the morning
until eight or nine at night, and he did not know but what he would have
to do more in such a bustling city as New York.

By ten o'clock Hal found himself tired out. The snow was now six inches
deep and was still coming down.

He turned from Broadway through Grand Street and presently found himself
well over on the east side.

"Good Beds for 25 Cents per Night."

This was the announcement on a banner strung over the sidewalk, and
after reading it, Hal glanced at the building.

It was rather a dingy affair, but to the youth direct from the Fairham
poor-house it appeared quite comfortable. He entered the office, and
approached the clerk at the desk.

"I would like a room for to-night," he said.

"A room or a bed?" asked the clerk.

"I mean a twenty-five cent place."

"Oh, all right. Pay in advance."

Hal handed out a quarter. Then he was conducted to a long, narrow
apartment on the third floor. There were eight beds in the room, six of
which were already occupied.

To a person used to good accommodations this apartment would have almost
disgusted him. But quarters at the poor-house had been but little
better, and Hal did not complain. He managed to get a bed in one corner,
and, as the window was slightly open, he slept very well.

He was up and dressed at six o'clock and out on the street. The snow was
now all of a foot deep, and Hal was much interested in the snow-plows on
the car tracks.

As he passed down the street a snow-ball whizzed past the youth's ear.
Another followed, striking him in the head. He turned, and saw a boy
slightly t