--Jim Nolan.

"How are you, Sam?" said Jim.

"Tip-top!" answered Sam.

"Where do you keep yourself? Are you blackin' boots, now?"

"No," answered Sam, with rather an important air. "I'm in an office."

"How much do you get?"

"Four dollars a week."

"That's good. How'd you get it?"

"Oh, the doctor took a fancy to me, and asked me to come."

"You're in luck. So you're with a doctor?"

"Yes,--Dr. Graham. He's a corn-doctor."

"Where does he hang out?"

"No.--, Broadway."

"Do you have much to do?"

"Not very much."

"How do you come down here, then?"

"I'm takin' a letter to Brooklyn for the doctor."

"Are you?"

"Yes," said Sam; adding unluckily, "There's money in it."

"Is there?" said Jim, pricking up his ears. "How do you know? Let's
see the letter."

Sam took the letter from his inside coat-pocket, and passed it to
Jim.

The latter held it up to the light, and tried to look inside. Fortune
favored his efforts. The envelope was imperfectly fastened, and came
open.

"There, Jim," said Sam, "now see what you've done."

"Let's look inside, and see how much money there is," suggested Jim.

Sam hesitated.

"It won't do any harm to look at it," said the tempter.

"That's so," said Sam.

He accordingly drew out the enclosure, and disclosed two ten-dollar
bills.

Jim's eyes sparkled with greed.

"Twenty dollars!" he exclaimed. "What a lot of good that would do
us!"

Sam's principles were not firm, but he had a good place, and the
temptation was not as strong as in Jim's case; so he answered, "Maybe
it would, but it aint ours."

Jim fastened his little black eyes on Sam cunningly.

"It might be," he answered.

"How could it be?"

"You could keep it."

"The doctor'd find it out."

"Tell him somebody hooked it out of your pocket. He wouldn't know."

Sam shook his head.

"I aint goin to lose a good place just for that," he said.

"Think what a lot of things you could do for ten dollars," urged Jim.

"Twenty, you mean."

"That's ten apiece, isn't it?"

"Oh, you want some, do you?" inquired Sam.

"Yes; I'll take it from you, and then give you back half. So, it'll be
me that stole it. They can't do nothin' to you. Come, I'll go over to
Brooklyn with you, and then you can make up your mind."

On board the boat Jim renewed his persuasions, and finally Sam
yielded.

"I'm afraid the doctor'll think I took it," he said.

"No matter! He can't prove nothin'."

"We'll find