a modest-looking shop
on the west side of the avenue. "I wish I could keep you company longer,
but business before pleasure, you know."

Before returning to his boarding house, Frank sat down for a short time
in Washington Park, and reviewed his plans and prospects. He could not
tell how he would succeed in his tea agency; but if that failed, he was
resolved to try something else.

He didn't feel homesick, for since his mother's death he had no longer
any home ties. Young as he was, he felt that one part of his life was
at an end, and that a new life and a new career were before him.

CHAPTER XXII

THE YOUNG TEA MERCHANT

The next morning, at breakfast, one of the gentlemen, who had been
running his eyes over the morning paper, said, suddenly:

"Ah! I see they have caught one of the gang who robbed the house of Mr.
Percival, on Madison Avenue, a week ago."

"Read the paragraph, Mr. Smith," said one of the boarders.

Mr. Smith read as follows:

"About noon yesterday a boy entered the banking house of Jones &
Robinson, in Wall Street, and offered for sale two one-hundred-dollar
government bonds. On inquiry, he said that the bonds belonged to a man
in the street, whom he had never before met, and who had offered him a
dollar to sell them. This naturally excited suspicion, and a policeman
was sent for. Before he could arrive the man had hastily departed,
requesting the boy to meet him at a specified hour in front of the Astor
House and hand him the money. He came to the rendezvous, but in
disguise, and, while talking to the boy, was arrested. It is understood
that he has agreed to turn State's evidence, and probably the entire sum
stolen, amounting to several thousand dollars, will be recovered."

Frank listened to this paragraph with interest. He was glad that his
name was not mentioned in the account, as he didn't care for such
publicity. He ventured to ask a question.

"Is Mr. Percival a rich man?" he asked.

"Very rich," answered Mr. Smith. "He is not now in the city, but is
expected home from Europe in three or four weeks. His house was left in
charge of an old servant--a coachman--and his wife; but the burglars
proved too much for them."

"I am glad they are caught," said Mrs. Fletcher. "It makes my blood run
cold to think of having the houses entered at night by burglars."

"Preston," said Mr. Smith, jokingly, "I hope you have your bonds locked
securely up."

"I don't believe the sharpest