Will you stay along and work for
two dollars and a half a week?"

"I couldn't do it," said Chester, troubled.

"All right! It's jest as you say. Your week ends to-morrow night. If
you see Abel Wood, you can tell him I want to see him."

"I will," answered Chester, bitterly.

As he walked home he felt very despondent. Wouldn't it have been
better, he asked himself, to accept reduced wages than to give up his
job? It would have been hard enough to attempt living on two dollars
and a half a week, but that was better than no income at all. And yet,
it looked so mean in Silas Tripp to present such an alternative, when
he was abundantly able to give him the increase he asked for.

"I must tell mother and see what she thinks about it," he said to
himself.

CHAPTER II.

OUT OF WORK.

Chester had a talk with his mother that evening. She felt indignant at
Silas Tripp's meanness, but advised Chester to remain in the store for
the present.

"I'd rather work anywhere else for two dollars," said Chester,
bitterly.

It would be humiliating enough to accept the reduction, but he felt
that duty to his mother required the sacrifice. He started on his way
to the store in the morning, prepared to notify Mr. Tripp that he would
remain, but he found that it was too late. Just before he reached the
store, he met Abel Wood, a loose-jointed, towheaded boy, with a stout
body and extraordinarily long legs, who greeted him with a grin.

"I'm goin' to work in your place Monday mornin'," he said.

"Has Mr. Tripp spoken to you?" asked Chester, his heart sinking.

"Yes, he said you was goin' to leave. What's up?"

"Mr. Tripp cut down my wages," said Chester. "I couldn't work for two
dollars and a half."

"He's only goin' to give me two and a quarter."

"You can afford to work for that. Your father's got steady work."

"Yes, but all the same I'll ask for more in a few weeks. Where are you
goin' to work?"

"I don't know yet," answered Chester, sadly.

"It's awful hard to get a place in Wyncombe."

"I suppose it is. I hope something will turn up."

He tried to speak hopefully, but there was very little hope in his
heart.

He went about his work in a mechanical way, but neglected nothing. When
the time came for the store to close, Silas Tripp took three dollars
from the drawer and handed it to him, saying: "There's your wages,
Chester. I expect it's the last I'll pay you."

"Yes, sir, I suppose so."

"I don't know