elf. I've gone to school a good deal, but I'm not
much of a hand with a book; but I tell you what I believe--I believe I
could run a business to the queen's taste if I had a chance, and I'm
going to try it one of these days. Uncle tells me that after awhile I
may be worth some money, and if I am I'll get rich as sure as you're
born. Business was born in me, but I've never had a chance to do
anything, I have traded around a little, and I've made some money,
too, but the trouble is that I've never been settled down long enough
to do much of anything, I've scarcely any chance at all out at Ulmata.
What would you rather be than anything else?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem that nature has exerted herself in
fitting me for anything, and I am a strong believer in natural
fitness. We may learn to do a thing in an average sort of way, but
excellence requires instinct, and instinct, of course, can't be
learned."

"I guess that's so. I can see hundreds of ways to make money. I'd
rather be a big merchant than anything else. Old fellow," he suddenly
broke off, "I am as happy as can be to have you go out yonder with us;
and mark what I tell you--we're going to have a splendid time."

CHAPTER II.

A SLEEPY VILLAGE AND A FUSSY OLD MAN.

In the village of Ulmata there was just enough of life to picture the
dreamy indolence of man. Rest was its complexion, and freedom from all
marks of care its most pleasing aspect.

Old Sawyer was so demonstrably gratified to have a companion for his
nephew that he invited DeGolyer to take a room in his house, and
DeGolyer gratefully accepted this kindness. Young Sawyer was delighted
when the household had thus been arranged, and with many small
confidences and unstudied graces of boyish friendship, he kept his
guest in the refreshing atmosphere of welcome. And in the main the
uncle was agreeable and courteous, but there were times when he flew
out of his orbit of goodfellowship.

Once he came puffing into the room where DeGolyer was writing, and
blusteringly flounced upon a sofa. He remained quiet for a few
moments, and then he blew so strong a spout of annoyance that DeGolyer
turned to him and asked:

"Has anything gone wrong?"

The old fellow's eyes bulged out as if he were straining under a heavy
load. "Yes," he puffed, "the devil's gone wrong."

"But isn't that of ancient date?" DeGolyer asked.

"Here, now, young fellow, don't try to saw me!" And then he broke off
with thi