ace go there."

"She need not. She can stay here with me for three months."

"Will you let me pay her board?"

"I can afford to give her board for three months."

"You are very kind, Mr. Pomeroy, but it wouldn't be right for me to
accept your kindness. It is my duty to take care of Grace."

"I honor your independence, Frank. It shall be as you say. When you are
able--mind, not till then--you may pay me at the rate of two dollars a
week for Grace's board."

"Then," said Frank, "if you are willing to board Grace for a while, I
think I had better go to the city at once."

"I will look over your clothes to-morrow, Frank," said Mrs. Pomeroy,
"and see if they need mending."

"Then I will start Thursday morning--the day after."

About four o'clock the next afternoon he was walking up the main street,
when just in front of Deacon Pinkerton's house he saw Tom leaning
against a tree.

"How are you Tom?" he said, and was about to pass on.

"Where are you going?" Tom asked abruptly.

"To Mr. Pomeroy's."

"How soon are you going to the poorhouse to live?"

"Who told you I was going?"

"My father."

"Then your father's mistaken."

"Ain't you a pauper?" said Tom, insolently. "You haven't got any money."

"I have got hands to earn money, and I am going to try."

"Anyway, I advise you to resign as captain of the baseball club."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't you'll be kicked out. Do you think the fellows
will be willing to have a pauper for their captain?"

"That's the second time you have called me a pauper. Don't call me so
again."

"You are a pauper and you know it."

Frank was not a quarrelsome boy, but this repeated insult was too much
for him. He seized Tom by the collar, and tripping him up left him on
the ground howling with rage. As valor was not his strong point, he
resolved to be revenged upon Frank vicariously. He was unable to report
the case to his father till the next morning, as the deacon did not
return from a neighboring village, whither he had gone on business, till
late, but the result of his communication was a call at Mr. Pomeroy's
from the deacon at nine o'clock the next morning. Had he found Frank,
it was his intention, at Tom's request, to take him at once to the
poorhouse. But he was too late. Our hero was already on his way to New
York.

CHAPTER VI

FRANK GETS A PLACE

"So this is New York," said Frank to himself, as he emerged from the
railway station and looked abou