d
distrust.

He walked up to the desk where the book keeper was writing.

"Good-morning, Cousin David," he said.

"Good-morning, Felix. Sit down for a few minutes, and I will take you
out to lunch."

"All right!" answered Felix. "Who's that boy?" he inquired, in a low
voice.

"The new office boy. Wait till we go out, and I will tell you about
it."

In five minutes David Mullins put on his hat and coat and went out with
his cousin.

"Stay here and mind the office," he said to Chester, "and if anybody
comes in, keep them, if possible. If any tenant comes to pay money,
take it and give a receipt."

"All right, sir."

When they were in the street, Felix asked:

"Where did you pick up the boy? Why didn't I get the place?"

"You must ask Mr. Fairchild that. He engaged him without consulting
me."

"What sort of a boy is he?"

"A country gawky. He knows nothing of the city."

"Is he a friend of Mr. Fairchild?"

"Fairchild never met him before. Some beggarly artist interceded for
him."

"It is too bad I can't be in the office. It would be so nice to be in
the same place with you."

"I did my best, but Fairchild didn't seem to fancy you. I think he took
a prejudice against you on account of your smoking cigarettes. He must
have seen you with one."

"Does the new boy smoke cigarettes?"

"I don't know. That gives me an idea. You had better get intimate with
him and offer him cigarettes. He doesn't know Mr. Fairchild's
prejudice, and may fall into the trap."

"How can I get acquainted with him?"

"I'll see to that. I shall be sending him out on an errand presently,
and you can offer to go with him."

"That'll do. But you must buy me a package of cigarettes."

"Very well. My plan is to have the boy offend Mr. Fairchild's
prejudices, and that may make a vacancy for you. By the way, never let
him see you smoking."

"I won't, but as he is not about, I'll smoke a cigarette now."

"Better wait till after lunch."

About ten minutes after Mr. Mullins left the office, a man of
forty--evidently a mechanic--entered.

"Is the bookkeeper in?" he asked.

"He's gone to lunch."

"He sent me a bill for this month's rent, which I have already paid."

"Please give me your name."

"James Long."

"And where do you live?"

The address was given--a house on East Twentieth Street.

"Haven't you the receipt?" asked Chester.

"No."

"Didn't Mr. Mullins give you one?"

"Yes; but I carelessly left it on th