chased the whole of them at the sale which
took place at the vicarage, but perhaps he has not yet disposed of
them."

"Boy, the books must be got at any price," exclaimed the old man, in an
authoritative tone, like that of a person not accustomed to be
contradicted. "Write to your friends, and tell them to buy them all up;
I will send them a cheque for the amount. We must not let them go to
the grocer's to wrap up butter and cheese."

"I will do as you desire, sir," said Owen.

"I am inclined to believe the account you give of yourself, boy, and you
shall have a trial," said Mr Fluke; his manner was far less abrupt than
it had hitherto been, and comparatively gentle. "Go to the outer
office, I am busy now; Mr Tarwig will look after you, and tell me what
he thinks."

He went to the door, and summoned his head clerk.

"Try him," said Mr Fluke, pointing to Owen.

"Come along with me," said Mr Tarwig, and he made a sign to Owen to get
up on a high stool, handing him, at the same time, the draft of a
letter. "There, copy that."

Owen transcribed it in a clear, regular hand, correcting two or three
errors in spelling.

"Good," said Mr Tarwig, as he glanced over it, perhaps not discovering
the improvement in the latter respect. "Now cast up these figures," and
he handed him a long account.

Owen performed the work rapidly, and when checked by Mr Tarwig, it was
found to be perfectly correct.

"Good," said the head clerk; "you'll do."

He handed him several accounts in succession, and which required
considerable calculation.

"Ah me!" exclaimed Mr Tarwig, and taking the papers he actually went
across the office to show them to his immediate surbordinate, who looked
round with a surprised glance at the young stranger.

What "Ah me!" meant Owen could not tell, but he judged that Mr Tarwig
was satisfied with his performance. Owen had not forgotten John.

"A friend is waiting for me outside, sir," he said; "if I am not wanted,
I must rejoin him."

"Stay and hear what Mr Fluke has got to say to you," answered Mr
Tarwig; "or go out and call your friend in, perhaps the master may have
a word to say to him."

Owen gladly did as he desired.

"I think they are pleased with me," he said to John; "and I understand
that Mr Fluke wants to speak to you, I suppose it is about getting back
my mother's books," and Owen related what had occurred.

"A good sign," said John. "Things look brighter than I expected they