r on the table, and to his surprise it was addressed to
"Richard Morrison."

He snatched it up filled with wonder, for he could hardly remember ever
having received a letter before, though once a former boy friend had
written him from Florida where his father had gone for his health.

And his eyes distended still more when he saw up in the corner of the
envelope the printed words: "First National Bank of Riverview."

With trembling fingers Dick tore the envelope open.

CHAPTER IX

GREAT NEWS

Sitting there in the easy chair Dick read the few lines that composed
the letter which his mother must have taken from the rural delivery man
at the door. It was in typewriting too, and signed with the name of
Harvey Gibbs.

"RICHARD MORRISON: I understand that you are
seeking a position. Will you call upon me Friday
morning about half-past ten."

That was all; but it could not have given that boy more of an electric
shock had it been a communication of a thousand words.

What did it mean?

He read it again and again, and gradually the only explanation that
could be attached to so clear a request came into his mind--why, they
meant to offer him a position in the bank--his dream seemed in a fair
way of being realized.

Was it Charles who had done this--could it be possible that the boasting
one really did have more or less influence with the president?

He smiled at the thought.

Then his mind roved in another direction, and he realized that after all
his humane act of the previous day must be bearing fruit; Bessie and her
mother had told Mr. Gibbs about the saving of the wonderful Benjy from a
watery grave, and no doubt also related how the boy had declined to take
any money as a reward for his kind deed; then one of them must have
mentioned the fact that Dick had said he was looking for work, and this
had led the banker to write to him.

It was glorious, and he jumped up to meet his mother, whom he discovered
coming through the back garden just then.

She was surprised to see him home.

"No use telling me you have been successful, my boy, for your face tells
the story better than words," she declared, laying down a dish in which
she had doubtless carried some little tempting dainty to the sick woman;
they might not have much themselves; but there were always others worse
off.

Dick put his hand in his pocket and drawing it out, said:

"Guess how much for my morning's ca