ducation and became what I am."

"Wasn't it hard?"

"Not so much as you might suppose. My home was not happy. I have a
stepfather and stepbrother, neither of whom I like. In fact, there is no
love lost between us. I was not obliged to leave home, but under the
circumstances I preferred to."

"Where are your stepfather and your stepbrother now?"

"They are traveling in Europe."

"While you are working hard for a living! That does not seem to be
just."

"We must make the best of circumstances, Dick. Whose is that large house
on the left?"

"That belongs to Mr. Fairfield.

"He seems to live nicely."

"Yes, he has improved and enlarged the house a good deal since he moved
into it--at Mrs. Percival's expense, I suppose."

"He seems to have pretty much his own way here," said Frank.

"Yes. Mr. Percival never comes to Jackson, and I suppose he believes all
that the agent tells him."

"He may get found out some time."

"I wish he might. It would be a great blessing to Jackson if he were
removed and a good man were put in his place."

"That may happen some day."

"Not very likely, I am afraid."

At this moment Mr. Fairfield himself came out of his front gate.

"Hello, Hamlin!" he said, roughly, to Dick. "Is your father at home?"

"Yes, sir."

"I have something to say to him. I think I will call round."

"You will find him at home, sir."

"Dick," said Frank, when the agent had passed on, "do you mind going
back? What you tell me makes me rather curious about Mr. Fairfield. At
your house I may get a chance to see something of him."

"Let us go back, then," said Dick; "but I don't think, Frank, that you
will care much about keeping up the acquaintance."

"Perhaps not; but I shall gratify my curiosity."

The two boys turned and followed the agent closely. They reached the
house about five minutes after Mr. Fairfield.

CHAPTER XXXVI

MR. FAIRFIELD, THE AGENT

The two boys found Mr. Fairfield already seated in the most comfortable
chair in the sitting room.

He looked inquiringly at Frank when he entered with Dick.

"Who is that boy, Hamlin?" inquired the agent. "Nephew of yours?"

"No, sir. It is a young man who has come to Jackson on business."

"What kind of business?'

"I sell stationery," Frank answered for himself.

"Oh, a peddler!" said the agent, contemptuously.

"Many of our most successful men began in that way," said Mr. Hamlin,
fearing lest Frank's feelings might be hurt