“What is your name, my boy?” asked the white-haired old gentleman who had accompanied the lady and the little girl on the ferryboat when, a little later, just before the boat was ready to start on her return trip across the river, Jack presented himself in his wrinkled and not thoroughly dried clothes before him in the waiting-room of the ferry-house. The little girl and her mother had been taken to a nearby hotel, in order that the child’s garments could be removed. “Jack Hazard.” “And my name is Seymour Atherton. Well, Jack, you have placed my daughter and myself under the greatest of obligations to you. You are a brave lad. Your courage and presence of mind saved the life of our dearest treasure, and it would be utterly impossible for us to thank you sufficiently.” “I hope you’ll not let that trouble you, sir. I’m glad to have been of service to you.” “Young man, it would trouble us a great deal more than you have any idea of if we did not make some little return that will show our appreciation of your gallant deed.” “But I don’t want to be paid for doing my duty, sir,” objected Jack, with a flush. “I am not speaking about payment, my lad, in the sense you perhaps imagine. Such a service as you have rendered us is quite beyond monetary reward,” said the old gentleman, feelingly. “But it is not impossible that we can do something in another way. I like your face. It is a bright one, stamped with energy and determination. You will make your way in the world, I have not the least doubt. It will do you no harm to ‘have a friend at court,’ as the saying is. You must let us know you better.” “I’ve no objection to that,” said the boy, with a frank smile. “That’s right,” said Mr. Atherton, cheerfully. “Now, in the first place, you have almost ruined your clothes. It is only fair that you allow me to buy you a new suit at once.” To this offer Jack made no objection. So he permitted the old gentleman to take him to a large furnishing goods store, where he was fitted out with new underclothes, shirt, tie, etc., and from thence to a clothing establishment, where one of the best suits was placed at his disposal, his own clothes being wrapped up and ordered to be sent to his home. “Now you must come with me to the hotel and let me introduce you to my daughter and the little girl who owes you such a debt of gratitude, which when she grows older she will realize.” Jack put up some little objection, but was overruled. “I presume you are out on some business for the house with which you are employed, but if you will give me the name and address I will make it all right for you.” Then Jack blushingly admitted that he was out of work and had come to Brooklyn in search of a position which he had seen advertised. “Indeed,” remarked the old gentleman. “It will give me great pleasure to put you in the way of what you are in search, and at the same time give me an opportunity of knowing you better. How would you like to work in Wall Street?”