missed the card. It fluttered into the excavation in the street and the
shadow hid it completely from the boy's gaze.

Had there been a lantern nearby, as there should have been, Hiram would
have taken it to search for the lost card. For he felt suddenly as
though Opportunity had brushed past him.

The man in the carriage evidently lived out of town. He might be a
prosperous farmer. And, being a farmer, he might be able to give Hiram
just the sort of job he was looking for.

The card, of course, would have put Hiram in touch with the man. And he
seemed like a hearty, good-natured individual.

"And the girl--his daughter--was as pretty as a picture," thought Hiram,
as he turned wearily toward the boarding house. "Well! I don't know that
I'll ever see either of them again; but if I could learn that man's name
and address I'd certainly look him up."

So much did this thought disturb him that he was up an hour earlier than
usual the next morning and hurried to work by the way of the excavation
in the street where the incident had occurred.

But he could not find the card, although he got down into the ditch to
search for it. The loose sand, perhaps, rattling down from the sides of
the excavation during the night, had buried the bit of pasteboard, and
Hiram went on to Dwight's Emporium more disheartened than ever.

The work there went worse that morning. Old Daniel Dwight drove the
young fellow from one task to another. The other clerks got a minute's
time to themselves now and then; but the proprietor of the store seemed
to have his keen eyes on Hiram continually.

There was always a slow-up in the work about ten o'clock, and Hiram had
a request to make. He asked Old Daniel for an hour off.

"An hour off--with all this work to do? What do you mean, boy?" roared
the proprietor. "What do you want an hour for?"

"I've got an errand," replied Hiram, quietly.

"Well, what is it?" snarled the old man, curiously.

"Why--it's a private matter. I can't tell you," returned the youth,
coolly.

"No good, I'll be bound--no good. I don't see why I should let you off
an hour----"

"I work many an hour overtime for you, Mr. Dwight," put in Hiram.

"Yes, yes; that's all right. That's the agreement. You knew you'd have
to when you came to work at the Emporium. Stick to your contract, boy."

"Then why don't you stick to yours?" demanded the youth, boldly.

"Eh! Eh! What do you mean by that?" cried Mr. Dwight, glaring at H