t all who upheld "that low Gilbert boy," as she designated him.

It is said that all things come to him who waits, and circumstances were
shaping themselves in a very gratifying way to Mrs. Ross and her schemes
of revenge.

One day as Harry was driving the store wagon which bore the name of his
employer he was hailed, about a mile from the store, by a boy about his
own age, who carried in his hand a carpetbag, and appeared to be making
a journey on foot.

"Hello!" said the traveler.

"Hello!" returned Harry.

"Are you working for my uncle?" asked the stranger.

"I can tell you better when I find out who your uncle is. If you are the
nephew of General Grant, or the czar of Russia, I am not working for
him."

"I see you like to joke," said the stranger. "My uncle is Mr. Mead, the
storekeeper."

"That is the name of the man I work for."

"Then I guess you had better give me a lift, for I am going to my
uncle's."

"All right! Glad to have your company."

"What's your name?" asked the stranger.

"Harry Gilbert. What's yours?"

"Howard Randall."

"Where do you live?"

"I used to live at Upton, but my father is dead, and mother--she's Mrs.
Mead's sister--told me I'd better come to see if Uncle Reuben wouldn't
give me a place in his store."

Instantly it flashed upon Harry that this new boy's arrival was likely
to endanger his prospects. Mr. Mead, as he knew, had no occasion for the
services of two boys, and he would naturally give his nephew the
preference. He was not unjust enough to take a dislike to Howard in
consequence. Indeed, the new boy had a pleasant face and manner, which
led him to think he would like him for a friend.

"If I do lose my place," thought Harry, "I will put my trust in God. I
don't think He will see me or mother suffer, and I won't borrow trouble
until it comes."

"Were you ever employed in a store?" he asked, pleasantly.

"No; that is, not regularly. I have been in our grocery store at home
for a few days at a time, when the storekeeper's son was sick."

"You look as if you were about my age."

"I am sixteen. My birthday came last month."

"Then you are a little older. I am not sixteen yet."

"You look stronger than I. I should think you were older."

Harry felt flattered. All boys like to be considered strong and large
for their age, and our hero was no exception to the general rule in this
respect.

"I don't know about that," he answered. "I guess we are a pretty go