fer even of an office boy, as
long as it would save him expense.

Felix Gordon was just leaving the office on an errand.

"Is that Mr. Fairchild's office?" inquired Silas.

"Yes," answered Felix, with rather a disdainful glance at Silas Tripp's
rusty garments.

"Much obleeged to ye," said Silas.

He entered the office and glanced about, expecting to see Chester.

David Mullins came forward, and with some show of civility greeted the
old country merchant. Though he was not naturally polite, he knew that
the size of a man's purse could not always be judged from the cut or
quality of his garments, and he was just as ready to make money out of
Silas as out of any fashionably dressed customer.

"Is Mr. Fairchild in?" asked Silas.

"No; Mr. Fairchild is out West. I am Mr. Mullins, his bookkeeper, and
represent him."

"Just so! Have you a boy workin' for you named Chester--Chester Rand?"

"Are you a friend of his?" asked the bookkeeper.

"Well, yes. I come from Wyncombe, where he lives, and I know his folks.
I was told he was workin' here."

"Yes, he was working here," answered Mullins, emphasizing the past
tense.

"Isn't he here now?" demanded Silas, with surprise.

"No."

"How's that?"

"It's rather a delicate matter, as you are a friend of his, but some
days since I was obliged to discharge him."

"You don't say!" ejaculated Silas, in manifest surprise.

"I am sorry to say it."

"But what was the matter? What did he do?"

"Well, as to that, he did nothing very serious, but he wasted time when
he was sent out on an errand, and I felt that it was injurious to the
interests of Mr. Fairchild to retain him."

"He used to be spry enough when he worked for me."

"When he worked for you?"

"Yes. I keep a store out in Wyncombe, and he was in my employ most a
year. I used to think him quite a lively boy."

"I dare say he would do very well in a country store, but in the city
we want boys to be active and wide awake. I don't want to say anything
against him. He was perfectly honest, so far as I know."

"Has he got another place?"

"I don't think he has. It is difficult for a boy to get a place in this
city--that is, a good place, and he wouldn't be likely to refer any
employer to me."

"I'm afraid he'll be put to it to live, for his mother was poor. How
much wages did you pay him?"

"Five dollars a week."

"That's pretty high pay."

"So it is, and we expect a first-class boy for that."

"Have