n his garments.

At length the bell for supper rang, and washing up and combing his
hair, he went below. He ate his portion leisurely, and was just
finishing when the landlady said there was a young lady to see him in
the parlor.

Matt at once thought of Ida Bartlett, who lived but a few blocks away,
with her two sisters and her mother. He was right; it was the young
lady stenographer.

"I could not wait, Matt, and so came over just as soon as we had tea,"
she explained. "I want you to tell me what you are going to do, now
you are out of Mr. Fenton's offices. You spoke of having something
else in view. I trust it is something better."

"I can't tell as to that yet," returned the boy, and then sitting down
beside her on the _tete-a-tete_, he told her of Andrew Dilks and the
auctioneer's proposition.

"That sounds as if it might be quite a good thing," said Ida Bartlett,
when he had finished. "You are sure this Dilks is no sharper? There
are lots of sharpers in the auction business, you know."

"Like the one who tried to make you pay?" laughed Matt.

"Exactly."

"Well, to tell the truth, I thought of that. But Dilks doesn't look
like a sharper; quite the contrary. Of course, I'll have to keep my
eyes open. We will have a written agreement, and I will not let the
outfit go out of my sight, at least not until I know him thoroughly."

"In that case I think you will be safe."

"It is possible that we may not come to any agreement. He has more
money than I. He may want somebody who can put up an equal amount."

"How much has he?"

"A hundred and thirty-five dollars."

"And that is a good deal more than you have, I suppose?"

"I have saved seventy-five dollars," returned Matt, and not without
some pride.

"Is it possible! And on a salary of four dollars a week!"

"Not much! That salary only paid my way. I saved the money out of
extras I earned from other brokers--running errands for them and doing
writing at home in the evenings."

"I see. It is very creditable to you."

"Yet Mr. Fenton said I was lazy," replied Matt bitterly.

"Don't you care what he said. He is a very mean man--I am finding that
out more and more every day. I myself intend to leave just as soon as
I can find another place. I have been there three months, and can
hardly bear it longer."

"The last stenographer only stayed two months, and the one before
that, a man, didn't stay the week out," grinned Matt. "They soon find
out what kin