profitably in studying."

"Do you think Mr. Gale will return?"

"He has promised to do so. I am to see him off to-morrow."

"Are you going to trust that boy alone in New York?" asked his Aunt
Jane, with asperity.

"Why, what could happen to me?" asked Andy, indignantly.

"You might get run over."

"I am not a little boy, Aunt Jane. I can take care of myself."

"You may meet with an accident for all your smartness."

"I think Andy is old enough to take care of himself," said his father,
mildly.

"Oh, well! have it your own way. You can't say but I've warned you," and
she sniffed severely.

"I wonder what makes Aunt Jane so disagreeable," thought Andy.

"Perhaps you'd like to go and take care of him," suggested Mr. Grant,
with a smile. "You are old enough to take care of yourself."

"You needn't twit me with my age, Sterling," said Jane, with an injured
sniff.

"I don't. Old age is honorable."

This made matters worse.

"You talk as if I was seventy-five. I don't consider myself an old
person."

In spite of the melancholy presentiment of Aunt Jane, Andy set out for
New York with Mr. Gale. An hour and a half brought them to the
metropolis.

"I should like to show you something of the city, Andy," said his
companion, "but I shall have to spend the time in shopping."

"I shall see something of the city if I go about with you."

"That is true."

At one o'clock they went to the Sinclair House, on Broadway, to dine.
They selected a table where there was but one other guest, who seemed
known to Walter Gale.

"Good-morning, Mr. Flint," said the young man.

"Ah, it's you, Walter, is it?" returned the other, a stout man, whose
hair was beginning to grow gray.

"Yes."

"I haven't seen you for a long time. Where have you been?"

"Rusticating in a Connecticut town."

"Is the young man with you a brother? But, no; I remember that you have
no brother."

"He isn't related to me, but I think as much of him as if he were. His
name is Andrew Grant."

"A good name. Is he attending school?"

"He has recently left school."

"If he were seeking a position I could find a place for him."

"In your own employ?"

"Yes. I have a boy, but I don't find him reliable or faithful. He will
leave me on Saturday night."

"Andy," said his friend, "how would you like to enter Mr. Flint's
employ?"

"Very much," answered Andy, eagerly.

At the same time he wondered what was the nature of Mr. Flint's
business.