not be just to my employers, for I am convinced that Tim causes more
mischief than a little, every day."

"Then if you are bound to discharge him any way, there would be nothing
wrong in my taking the place, would there?"

"Certainly not. Some one else will have it if you don't."

Mr. Farrington's assurance that there would be nothing dishonorable in
the proposed course seemed to satisfy Fred's compunctions to some
extent; still, as he entered the mill the next morning at the call of
the shrill whistle, long before daylight, he could not help feeling a
little guilty. He also felt that he was entering upon a new career, and
one that seemed anything but pleasing. An utter change had taken place
in his life. He was now only a common factory hand, and was about to
begin work as such.

The "flockers" were located under the stairs, down in the basement of
the mill, in a dark and dingy corner. When Fred arrived there, he saw
standing beside one of the machines a medium sized man with small gray
eyes, that were shaded with immense bushy brows nearly an inch in
length. His features were dull and expressionless, and over the lower
portion of his wrinkled face a scraggy, mud colored beard seemed
struggling for existence. His clothing appeared to indicate a penurious,
grasping nature.

A single look at this uncouth specimen was sufficient to make our young
friend shudder at the thought of being under his control; however, he
walked straight up to him, and said:

"Is this Mr. Hanks?"

"That's my name--Christopher Hanks. Be you the new boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's yer name?"

"My name is Fred Worthington."

"Fred Worthington, d'ye say?"

"Yes, sir."

"I s'pose yer father's the cobbler?"

"He has a shoe shop, sir."

"Be you the chap I heerd them men speakin' of as stole some money?" said
Hanks, with a fiendish grin, which revealed two upper front teeth that
seemed long because they alone guarded that portion of his mouth. They
had been in use so many years, or had been so poorly treated, that they
were loose, and rattled together.

"Perhaps they referred to me, sir," retorted Fred with dignity, "but
they had no right to accuse me of stealing."

"Yis, yis; that's how such allers talks. But I guess thar ain't nothin'
here fer yer to git yer hands on to, 'ceptin' work--I'll see't yer ain't
sufferin' fer that."

"Very well, sir; I came here to work."

"I s'pose ye're perty strong, ain't yer?"

"I'm strong enou