twelve, with
light-brown hair, came up and asked: "Is this Chester Rand?"

"Yes," answered Chester, in surprise. "How do you know my name?"

"I was sent here by Mr. Conrad to meet you."

Chester brightened up at once. So his friend had not forgotten him
after all.

"Mr. Conrad couldn't come to meet you, as he had an important
engagement, so he sent me to bring you to his room. I am Rob Fisher."

"I suppose that means Robert Fisher?"

"Yes, but everybody calls me Rob."

"Are you a relation of Mr. Conrad?"

"Yes, I am his cousin. I live just outside of the city, but I am
visiting my cousin for the day. I suppose you don't know much about New
York?"

"I know nothing at all."

"I am pretty well posted, and I come into the city pretty often. Just
follow me. Shall I carry your valise?"

"Oh, no; I am older than you and better able to carry it. What street
is this?"

"Forty-second Street. We will go to Fifth Avenue, and then walk down to
Thirty-fourth Street."

"That is where Mr. Conrad lives, isn't it?"

"Yes; it is one of the wide streets, like Fourteenth and Twenty-third,
and this street."

"There are some fine houses here."

"I should think so. You live in Wyncombe, don't you?"

"Yes; the houses are all of wood there."

"I suppose so. Mr. Conrad tells me you are an artist," said Rob, eying
his new friend with curiosity.

"In a small way."

"I should like to see some of your pictures."

"I can show you one," and Chester opened his copy of _Puck_ and pointed
to the sketch already referred to.

"Did you really draw this yourself?"

"Yes."

"And did you get any money for it?"

"Ten dollars," answered Chester, with natural pride.

"My! I wish I could get money for drawing."

"Perhaps you can some time."

Bob shook his head.

"I haven't any talent that way."

"What house is that?" asked Chester, pointing to the marble mansion at
the corner of Thirty-fourth Street.

"That used to belong to A. T. Stewart, the great merchant. I suppose
you haven't any houses like that in Wyncombe?"

"Oh, no."

"We will turn down here. This is Thirty-fourth Street."

They kept on, crossing Sixth and Seventh Avenues, and presently stood
in front of a neat, brownstone house between Seventh and Eighth
Avenues.

"That is where Mr. Conrad lives," said Rob.

CHAPTER XI.

CHESTER'S FIRST EXPERIENCES IN NEW YORK.

The bell was rung, and a servant opened the door.

"I will go up to Mr. Conrad's