of it.”
“No,” answered Grant; “I wish to see him personally.”
“He is at the Stock Exchange just at present. If you will take a seat, he will be back in twenty minutes, probably.”
Grant sat down, and in less than the time mentioned, Mr. Reynolds entered the office. The broker, who had a good memory for faces, at once recognized our hero.
“Ha, my young friend from the country,” he said; “would you like to see me?”
“When you are at leisure, sir,” answered Grant, well pleased at the prompt recognition.
“You will not have to wait long. Amuse yourself as well as you can for a few minutes.”
Promptness was the rule in Mr. Reynolds’ office. Another characteristic of the broker was, that he was just as polite to a boy as to his best customer. This is, I am quite aware, an unusual trait, and, therefore, the more to be appreciated when we meet with it.
Presently Mr. Reynolds appeared at the door of his inner office, and beckoned to Grant to enter.
“Take a seat, my young friend,” he said; “and now let me know what I can do for you.”
“When I met you in the cars,” said Grant, “you invited me, if I ever wanted a position, to call upon you, and you would see if you could help me.”
“Very true, I did. Have you made up your mind to seek a place?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are your parents willing you should come to New York?”
“Yes, sir. That is, my mother is willing, and my father will agree to whatever she decides to be best.”
“So far so good. I wouldn’t engage any boy who came against his parents’ wishes. Now let me tell you that you have come at a very favorable time. I have had in my employ for two years the son of an old friend, who has suited me in every respect; but now he is to go abroad with his father for a year, and I must supply his place. You shall have the place if you want it.”
“Nothing would suit me better,” said Grant, joyfully. “Do you think I would be competent to fulfill the duties?”
“Harry Becker does not leave me for two weeks. He will initiate you into your duties, and if you are as quick as I think you are at learning, that will be sufficient.”
“When shall I come, sir?”
“Next Monday morning. It is now Thursday, and that will give you time to remove to the city.”
“Perhaps I had better come Saturday, so as to get settled in a boarding-house before going to work. Could you recommend some moderate priced boarding-house, Mr. Reynolds?”
“For the first week you may come to my house as my guest. That will give you a chance to look about you. I live at 58 West 3-th Street. You had better take it down on paper. You can come any time on Monday. That will give you a chance to spend Sunday at home, and you need not go to work till Tuesday.”
Grant expressed his gratitude in suitable terms, and left the office elated at his good fortune. A surprise awaited him. At the junction of Wall and New Streets he came suddenly upon a large-sized bootblack, whose face looked familiar.
“Tom Calder!” he exclaimed. “Is that you?”
CHAPTER IX – ‘UNCLE GODFREY PARTS FROM GRANT
When Tom Calder turned round and saw who had addressed him, he turned red with mortification, and he tried to hide his blacking box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame.
“When did you come to the city?” he stammered.
“Only this morning.”
“I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business,” said Tom, awkwardly.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Grant. “It is an honest business.”
“It’s an awful come down for me,” said Tom, uncomfortably. “The fact is, I’ve had hard luck.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant.
“I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.”
“How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn’t believe a word of it.
“Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly.
“I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn’t have been surprising.”
“I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I couldn’t help that, now, could I?”
“I suppose not.”
“So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say, Grant–”
“Well?”
“Don’t you tell any of the fellers at home what business I’m in, that’s a good fellow.”
“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” said Grant.
“You see, it’s only a few days till I can get something else to do.”
“It’s a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my opinion,” said Grant.
“That’s the way I look at it. But you didn’t tell me what you came to the city for?”
“I’m coming here for good,” announced Grant.
“You haven’t got a place, have you?” ejaculated Tom, in surprise.
“Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker. There is his sign.”
“You don’t say so I. Why, that’s just the sort of place I wanted. How did you get the chance?”
“I got acquainted with Mr. Reynolds on board the cars that day we came to New York together.”
“And you asked him for the place?”
“I asked him this morning.”
“You might have given me the chance,” grumbled Tom, enviously. “You knew it was the sort of place I was after.”
“I don’t think I was called upon to do that,” said Grant, smiling. “Besides, he wouldn’t have accepted you.”
“Why not? Ain’t I as smart as you, I’d like to know?” retorted Tom Calder, angrily.
“He heard us talking in the cars, and didn’t like what you said.”
“What did I say?”
“He
