good word for me, anyhow. Wait and see if I go
backward. I'm more determined than ever to make good here, for I believe
that the one chance I wanted has come to me. What did Mr. Graylock say
to that, Pliny?" he asked.

"He sneered at it in that nasty way he has, and he was mighty bitter
when he declared that he had no faith in you. He even said you had come
to him to ask for a job, and he felt constrained to turn you down
because he had heard certain things in various quarters that reflected
on your honesty--nothing positive, but just little straws that generally
show which way the wind blows."

Dick half sprang out of his seat, and his face grew red with anger and
mortification.

"I haven't liked Mr. Graylock from way back, but it never entered my
head that he was a man who would descend to actual lies to get even with
a boy who happened to cut his son out of a job. That was about as mean a
thing as any man could ever hint at--no proof, but only general
suspicion, and on that he would ruin my reputation with my employers.
It's hard to stand that, Pliny, mighty hard!" he breathed, clinching his
hands and looking as though he had half a mind to hurry around to the
big department store and demand an explanation and an apology from the
owner.

"Just what I said to myself at the time--old Graylock is a cur, a mean,
mangy cur, that's what he is. And because I detest him so I made up my
mind you should hear what happened to come to my ears. Mind you, I'm
not a listener, and under ordinary circumstances I'd have stopped up my
ears."

"It was kind of you to tell me, Pliny. I'll be more careful than ever
how I do things now. Mr. Graylock offered me a position in his store,
and told me to take off my coat and go to work; but as he only gave
three dollars a week I had to decline. I suppose he can't quite forgive
me for walking out. Perhaps I did say something a little sarcastic at
the time, but who could help it when a man had even gone so far as to
sneer at my father for declining to put his money into that store
business of his?"

"Served him just right--three dollars a week, eh? And they do say he
works his help like a mule driver. If that man doesn't get to be a
millionaire it will be because he is so small he makes mistakes that a
larger grained man never would. That is the law of compensation, my boy.
And I hate to say it, but Graylock ended up by warning Mr. Goodwyn that
if he were in his shoes he would keep a shar