be obliged to do this very long, as, at
the end of six months, it was probable that his salary would be raised
if he gave satisfaction, and this he meant to do. Still, Rufus did not
like this plan, for five hundred dollars seemed a good round sum, and he
wanted to keep it all. The other way was to make up the necessary sum by
extra work outside of the office. This idea he liked best. But it
suggested another question, which was not altogether easy to answer.
"What should he do, or what kind of work should he choose?"

He might go back to his old employment. As he was not required to be at
the office before nine o'clock, why should he not spend an hour or two
in the early morning in selling newspapers? He felt confident that he
could in this way clear two dollars a week. But there were two
objections which occurred to him. The first was, that as Mrs. Clayton's
breakfast was at half-past seven in the winter, and not earlier than
seven in the summer, he would be obliged to give it up, and take
breakfast at some restaurant down town. His breakfasts, probably, would
come to very nearly the sum he would make by selling papers, and as Mrs.
Clayton took him under her usual price, it was hardly to be expected
that she would make any allowance for his absence from the morning meal.
Besides, Rufus had left his old life behind him, and he did not want to
go back to it. He doubted, also, whether his employer would like to have
him spend his time before office hours in selling papers. Then, again,
he was about to board at a house of very good rank, and he felt that he
did not wish to pass among his new acquaintances as a newsboy, if he
could get something better to do. Of course it was respectable, as all
honest labor is; but our hero felt that by this time he was suited to
something better.

The more Rufus balanced these considerations in his mind, the more
perplexed he became. Meanwhile he was walking down Broadway on his way
to the office.

Just as he was crossing Canal Street, some one tapped him on the
shoulder. Turning round, he recognized a young man whom he remembered as
clerk in a stationery store in Nassau Street. His name was George
Black.

"Rough and Ready!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "Is this you? Why are you
not selling papers? You got up late this morning, didn't you?"

"I've given up selling papers," said Rufus.

"How long since?"

"Only a few days."

"What are you up to now?"

"I'm in an office in Wall S