“That’s a guardian to be proud of,” he said, bitterly, as he made his way carefully down the rickety staircase. “Who can blame me for not liking him? I don’t believe I can make up my mind to call him grandfather again. After all, why should I? He is no relation of mine, and I am glad of it.” CHAPTER IV. A STRANGE COMMISSION. The life of a telegraph boy is full of variety and excitement. He never knows when he goes to the office in the morning on what errands he may be sent, or what duties he may be called upon to discharge. He may be sent to Brooklyn, or Jersey City, with a message--sometimes even farther away. He may be detained to supply the place of an absent office boy, or sent up town to go out and walk with a child. In the evening he may be directed to accompany a lady to the theater as escort. These are a few of the uses to which telegraph messenger boys are put. Of course Paul had had his share of varied commissions. But the day after that on which our story opens, a new duty awaited him. It was about five o’clock that the superintendent called “Number 91.” “Yes, sir,” answered Paul, promptly. “You are to go up to No. ----, West Fifty First Street, to spend the night.” Paul looked surprised. “To spend the night?” he repeated. “Yes, the head of the household has been called away for a day or two, and there is no man in the house. Mrs. Cunningham is timid, and has sent for a boy to protect the house against possible burglars.” The superintendent smiled, and so did Paul. “I guess I can do it,” he said. “Very well, you will report at the house about seven o’clock.” “Can I go home and tell grandfather? He might be alarmed if I didn’t come home.” “Yes; I will give you an extra half hour for supper.” At seven o’clock Paul rang the bell of a handsome brown stone mansion on West Fifty First Street. The door was opened by a servant girl. “I was sent for by Mrs. Cunningham,” said Paul. “Yes, the missis is expecting you. Come right in!” Paul observed, as he followed the girl upstairs into a sitting room on the second floor, that the house was very handsomely furnished--and came to the natural conclusion that the occupants were rich. “Just take a seat, and I’ll tell the missis,” said the girl. Paul sat down in a plush covered arm chair, and looked about him admiringly. “I wonder how it must seem to live in such a house as this,” he reflected. And then his thoughts went back to the miserable tenement house in which he and his grandfather lived, and he felt more disgusted with it than ever, after the sight of this splendor. His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of a pleasant faced lady. “Are you the boy I sent for?” she asked, with a smile. “Yes, ma’am,” answered Paul, respectfully, rising as he spoke. “I suppose you know why I want you,” proceeded the lady. “Yes, ma’am; I was told there were only ladies in the house, and you wanted a man to sleep here.”