and interesting to him.

He had gone but a dozen steps from the depot when a plausible stranger
of thirty-five years, apparently, stopped him.

"Young man, may I have a word with you?" he asked.

"If you wish."

"I speak to you, because I judge from your appearance that you have a
good, kind heart."

"I hope you are right, sir."

"I am very awkwardly placed. My sister is very sick in Yonkers and has
sent for me. On my way to the depot in a horse car I had my pocket
picked, and I have not enough money to get to the bedside of my poor
sister. If you would kindly lend me a quarter--"

Andy was kind-hearted, and he was not versed in city wiles. He put his
hand in his pocket and drew out a twenty-five-cent silver coin.

"I am glad to help you," he said, as he passed the coin to the
applicant.

"You have a noble heart. I thank you," said the stranger, feelingly.

Andy felt pleased to think that he had done the man a favor, but his
satisfaction was short-lived.

A stout, pleasant-looking man who had caught sight of the conference
addressed him.

"Did you give that man any money?" he asked.

"Yes sir."

"What did he need it for?"

"His pocket had been picked, and he wanted to go to Yonkers to visit his
sick sister."

His new friend laughed.

"That's a new story," he said. "The man is an arrant fraud. Your money
will be spent for drink. He has no sick sister."

This was quite a shock to Andy. He saw that he had been victimized, and
must hereafter be on his guard against plausible strangers.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.

By dint of a little inquiry Andy found his way to Mrs. Norris' boarding
house in Clinton Place. It was a plain three-story-and-basement house
of brick and looked thoroughly respectable.

Andy took a general view of it, and thought he should take it. To his
country eyes it looked quite aristocratic. It was higher than any house
in Arden, even Squire Carter's.

He ascended the steps and rang the bell.

It was answered by a Swedish girl named Eva, a blond girl of the true
Scandinavian type.

"Is Mrs. Norris at home?" he asked.

"She is upstairs," was the reply.

"I should like to see her."

"Who shall I tell her calls?"

"She won't know my name. Tell her it is some one with a letter from Mr.
Walter Gale."

"Won't you step in?"

She ushered Andy into a small reception room opening from the hall. It
was a very small room, provided with a sofa, one chair