ck stared at Hal.

"Won't I do?" he asked sharply.

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"What do you want to see him about?"

"He asked me to call," replied the youth. He was not particularly
pleased with Hardwick's manner.

"I am the book-keeper here, and I generally transact business during Mr.
Sumner's absence."

"Mr. Sumner asked me to meet him here at ten o'clock."

"Oh! You know him, then?"

"Not very well."

"I thought not." Hardwick glanced at Hal's shabby clothes. "Well, you
had better wait outside until he comes. We don't allow loungers about
the office."

"I will," said Hal, and he turned to leave.

It was bitter cold outside, but he would have preferred being on the
sidewalk than being in the way, especially when such a man as Felix
Hardwick was around.

But, as he turned to leave, a coach drove up to the door, and Mr. Sumner
alighted. His face lit up with a smile when he caught sight of Hal.

"Well, my young friend, I see you are on time," he said, catching Hal by
the shoulder, and turning him back into the office.

"Yes, sir."

"That's right." Mr. Sumner turned to Hardwick. "Where is Dick?" he
asked.

"I don't know, sir," returned the book-keeper.

"Hasn't he been here this morning?"

"I think not."

"The sidewalk ought to be cleaned. That boy evidently doesn't want
work."

"I will clean the walk, if you wish me to," put in Hal.

"I have an office boy who is expected to do such things," replied Mr.
Sumner. "That is, when the janitor of the building doesn't get at it in
time. But he is getting more negligent every day. Yes, you might as well
do the job, and then come into the back office and have a talk with me."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Hardwick, just show Carson where the shovel and broom are."

The book-keeper scowled.

"This way," he said, and led the boy to a small closet under a stairs.

Just as Hal was about to leave the office with the broom and the shovel,
a tall, well dressed boy entered.

He was whistling at a lively rate, but stopped short on seeing Mr.
Sumner.

"Well, Ferris, this is a pretty time to come around," said the broker,
sharply.

"I couldn't help it," returned the boy, who was considerably older than
Hal, and had coarse features and fiery red hair.

"Why not?"

"My aunt forgot to call me."

"That is a poor excuse."

Dick Ferris began to drum on the railing with his flat hands.

"Didn't I tell you to be here every morning at nine o'clock?" went on
the br