oduced. To Dick's astonishment, he
answered that he did a little. It was accordingly proposed that they
should enter the next room, where there was a piano. The young lady
played some well-known melodies, and Fosdick accompanied her with his
voice, which proved to be quite sweet and melodious.

"You are quite an acquisition to our circle," said Miss Peyton,
graciously. "Have you boarded in this neighborhood before?"

"No," said Fosdick; "at another part of the city."

He was afraid she would ask him in what street, but fortunately she
forbore.

In about half an hour the boys went up to their own room, where they
lighted the gas, and, opening their trunks, placed the contents in the
bureau-drawers.

"Blessed if it don't seem strange," said Dick, "for a feller brought up
as I have been to live in this style. I wonder what Miss Peyton would
have said if she had known what I had been."

"You haven't any cause to be ashamed of it, Dick. It wasn't a very
desirable business, but it was honest. Now you can do something better.
You must adapt yourself to your new circumstances."

"So I mean to," said Dick. "I'm going in for respectability. When I get
to be sixty years old, I'm goin' to wear gold spectacles and walk round
this way, like the old gentlemen I see most every day on Wall Street."

Dick threw his head back, and began to walk round the room with a
pompous step and an air of great importance.

"I hope we'll both rise, Dick; we've got well started now, and there've
been other boys, worse off than we are, who have worked hard, and risen
to FAME AND FORTUNE."

"We can try," said Dick. "Now let us go out and have a walk."

"All right," said Fosdick.

They went downstairs, and out into the street. Accustomed to the lower
part of the city, there was a novelty in the evening aspect of Broadway,
with its shops and theatres glittering with light. They sauntered
carelessly along, looking in at the shop-windows, feeling more and more
pleased with their change of location. All at once Dick's attention was
drawn to a gentleman accompanied by a boy of about his own size, who was
walking a little in advance.

"Stop a minute," he said to Fosdick, and hurrying forward placed his
hand on the boy's arm.

"How are you, Frank?" he said.

Frank Whitney, for it was he, turned in some surprise and looked at
Dick, but did not at first recognize in the neat, well-dressed boy of
fifteen the ragged boot-black he had encountered a