stay here for the present. He says I am as
likely to hear of my uncle, if I stay in Cincinnati, as if I travel
round the country after him."

"I presume he is right. As your uncle was formerly in business here, he
is likely to come here some time on a visit. If he does, he will be
likely to call at your establishment. The best thing you can do is to
attend to your business, learn as much as possible, and keep your eyes
open."

"I guess you're right," said Tom. "I ain't very old yet. I'll try to
learn something, so that, when I come into my fortune, I can appear
like a gentleman."

CHAPTER XVII.

THE SCARRED FACE.

We are now about to pass over a space of three years, partly because no
incidents of importance marked their passage, though they wrought an
important change in our hero. We leave him an uneducated boy of
fifteen. We meet him again a youth qualified to appear to advantage in
any society. Of course, this change was not wrought without persistent
effort. Tom was, as we know, an unusually smart boy, with a quick wit,
and an aptness to learn. But talent avails little unless cultivated.
Our hero, however, kept up his habit of evening study, at first under
Mordaunt's instruction. The latter was amazed at the progress of his
pupil. He seemed to fly along the path of knowledge, and to master
difficulties almost by intuition. At the end of a year he was as good
an English scholar as most boys of his age. But this did not satisfy
him. He induced Mordaunt to join him in securing the services of a
native French teacher, and was speedily able to read the language with
ease, and to speak it a little. He also found it for his interest to
learn something of German, on account of the number of German customers
which Mr. Ferguson had. To these solid acquirements he added a couple
of quarters at a fashionable dancing-school, and the result of all was,
that he not only became a good scholar, but was able to appear to
advantage in the social gatherings to which Mordaunt and himself were
frequently invited.

Maurice Walton was no longer able to laugh at his rusticity, but, on
the other hand, was forced to admit to himself, with a twinge of
jealousy, that the rough, uncultured boy of former days had wholly
eclipsed him in every desirable accomplishment, as well as in the solid
branches. For Maurice spent his evenings in quite a different way from
our hero--at the billiard-saloon or bar-room, or in wandering about the