if he worked all day at the farmer's he could
not do any artistic work, and so would lose much more than he made. The
sketch sold by Mr. Conrad brought him in as much as he would receive in
ten weeks from Farmer Dexter.

"Wyncombe people don't seem very liberal, mother," said Chester. "I
thought Mr. Tripp pretty close, but Job Dexter beats him."

In the meantime he met Abel Wood carrying groceries to a family in the
village.

"Have you got a place yet, Chester?" he asked.

"No; but I have a chance of one."

"Where?"

"At Farmer Dexter's."

"Don't you go! I worked for him once."

"How did you like it?"

"It almost killed me. I had to get up at half past four, work till
seven in the evening, and all for a dollar a week and board."

"Was the board good?" inquired Chester, curiously.

"It was the poorest livin' I ever had. Mrs. Dexter don't know much
about cookin'. We had baked beans for dinner three times a week,
because they were cheap, and what was left was put on for breakfast the
next mornin'."

"I like baked beans."

"You wouldn't like them as Mrs. Dexter cooked them, and you wouldn't
want them for six meals a week."

"No, I don't think I should," said Chester, smiling. "How do you get
along with Silas Tripp?"

"He's always scoldin'; he says I am not half as smart as you."

"I am much obliged to Mr. Tripp for his favorable opinion, but he
didn't think enough of me to give me decent pay."

"He's awful mean. He's talkin' of reducin' me to two dollars a week. He
says business is very poor, and he isn't makin' any money."

"I wish you and I were making half as much as he."

"There's one thing I don't understand, Chester. You ain't workin', yet
you seem to have money."

"How do you know I have?"

"Mr. Tripp says you came into the store three or four days ago and
changed a five-dollar bill."

"Yes; Mr. Tripp seemed anxious to know where I got it."

"You didn't use to have five-dollar bills, Chester, when you were at
work."

"This five-dollar bill dropped down the chimney one fine morning," said
Chester, laughing.

"I wish one would drop down my chimney. But I must be gettin' along, or
old Tripp will give me hail Columbia when I get back."

About nine o'clock that evening, as Chester was returning from a
lecture in the church, he was accosted by a rough-looking fellow having
very much the appearance of a tramp, who seemed somewhat under the
influence of liquor.

"I say, boss," said the t