ing of the accident; and putting on a temporary
substitute, they were constrained to believe, after several days' silence,
that he had left their service, some two or three boys coming forward to
declare that they had heard Tom say that such was his intention, as he had
received a good offer on the Erie road. The substitute was given to
understand that his situation was permanent, and the ill-used Tom was thus
thrown out of his situation.

After lying an hour or so on the ground he came to, and finding he was in
a sad plight, he set up a series of yells, which soon brought assistance
in the shape of a passing farmer, who lifted him into his wagon, carted
him home, and played the good Samaritan.

A physician was summoned, the broken limb set, and the patient was told
that all he had to do was to do nothing but lie still and get strong. The
farmer agreed that he should stay there, especially as the patient gave
him to understand that he would pay him for the service.

Here we leave Thomas Gordon for the time in good hands, while we turn our
attention to his friend, James Travers, who has been waiting too long for
notice.

The reader will recall that the morning succeeding the rescue of the
little girl from the river the two boys started out to hunt up something
to do in New York. The experience of both was quite similar through the
greater portion of the day, and we have dwelt fully upon what befell Tom.

Jim, with no better success, and fully as discouraged, set out on his
return, as the cold, wintry night was closing in, and he reached the long,
open street along the river without any incident worth notice; but while
walking wearily along, and when not far from his lodging-place, he was
accosted by a well-dressed man, who placed his hand on his shoulder and
said, in a pleasant voice,--

"I think you are looking for something to do, my son?"

"Yes, sir," was Jim's reply, his heart bounding with renewed hope at the
prospect of employment.

"Are you willing to do anything?"

"Anything that's honest and right."

"I wouldn't ask you to do what was not right," added the stranger, as if
he was hurt at the idea.

"What is it you want me to do?"

"How would you like to work on a vessel?"

"I was never on a ship in my life," said Jim, frightened at the thought of
the perils of the sea.

"That don't make any difference: you wouldn't have to serve as a sailor,
but as a sort of a cabin-boy; and not exactly that, eit