cautiously. "Have you applied to your father?"

"To the old man? Yes. He hasn't any more heart than a grindstone," said
Eben, bitterly. "What do you think he wrote me?"

"He refused, I suppose."

"Here is his letter," said Eben, drawing from his pocket a greasy half
sheet of note paper. "See what he has to say to his only son."

This was the letter:

"EBEN GRAHAM: I have received your letter, and am not surprised to hear
that you are in trouble. 'As a man sows, so also shall he reap.' A young
man who will rob his father of his hard earnings is capable of anything.
You have done what you could to ruin me, and deserve what you have got.
You want me to send you money to come home, and continue your wicked
work--I shall not do it. I wash my hands of you; I have already given
notice, through the country paper that I have given you your time, and
shall pay no more debts of your contracting.

"I am glad to hear that you are engaged in an honest employment. It is
better than I expected. I would not have been surprised if I had heard
that you were in jail. My advice to you is to stay where you are and
make yourself useful to your employer. He may in time raise your wages.
Five years hence, if you have turned over a new leaf and led an honest
life, I may give you a place in my store. At present, I would rather
leave you where you are.

"EBENEZER GRAHAM."

"What do you say to that? Isn't that rather rough on an only son, eh?"
said Eben.

It occurred to Herbert that Eben hardly deserved very liberal treatment
from his father, notwithstanding he was an only son.

"Oh, the old man is awfully mean and close-fisted," said Eben. "He cares
more for money than for anything else. By the way, how does Melville
treat you?"

"Mr. Melville," said Herbert, emphasizing the Mr., "is always kind and
considerate."

"Pays you well, eh?"

"He pays me more than I could get anywhere else."

"Pays all your hotel and traveling expenses, eh?"

"Of course."

"And a good salary besides?"

"Yes."

"Herbert," said Eben, suddenly, "I want you to do me a favor."

"What is it?"

"You've always known me, you know. When you was a little chap, and came
into the store, I used to give you sticks of candy."

"I don't remember it," answered Herbert, truthfully.

"I did, all the same. You were so young that you don't remember it."

"Well, Eben, what of it?"

"I want you to lend me ten dollars, Herbert, in memory of old times."

Herbert