Dr. Ferguson gasped for breath. "You are an actor--at your age?" he cried. Al laughed, a little sarcastically, it is to be feared. "It isn't quite as bad as that," he said. "Ah!" "I am only the advance agent." "And what, may I ask, is an advance agent?" Al explained. "It is not, then, quite as bad as I thought," said his companion. "It might be a heap worse," responded the boy, laconically. "But still," went on the reverend gentleman, "a position such as that you hold may lead to something worse. You may in time--pardon me, if I hurt your feelings--you may in time become an actor." "I guess not," said Al, who had some difficulty in repressing a smile. "You cannot tell, my dear young friend; one wrong step leads to another, and once on the road to destruction, there is no knowing where or when the end will come." "I hope I am not on the road to destruction yet," said Al, "and I feel pretty sure that I am not." "Pride cometh before a fall, my dear young friend," said the doctor, impressively. "The moment you begin to be too sure of yourself, you have taken the first downward step. You may not be conscious of it, but it is taken." Al began to shift about uneasily in his seat. "I know that what I say is not pleasant for you to hear," continued the old gentleman, "but I speak for your own good." He then went on to deliver a long homily on the evils of theatrical life, and actually succeeded in tiring Al to such an extent that he fell asleep. He was awakened by a voice shouting in his ear: "This ain't a sleeping car, young man. All off!" Al leaped to his feet, only half awake. The car was empty of everyone except himself and a brakeman. "Where are we?" he cried. "In New York," was the reply. "Say, young fellow, you are a pretty sound sleeper." "Well, I'm awake now," said the boy. "I'm sorry to have given you any trouble." "Oh, that's all right. But you haven't lost anything, have you?" "No. Why?" "I don't see your baggage anywhere?" "I didn't bring anything with me." "That's all right, then. I was afraid that duck in the seat with you might have got away with your stuff." Al laughed. "That was a clergyman," he said--"the Rev. Dr. Ferguson." "Reverend nothing," grinned the brakeman. "Say, young man, you must be from 'way back." "Why?" "Why, that fellow is one of the cleverest confidence men in the country." "Do you know what you are talking about?" asked the boy, in amazement. "You can bet I do. Oh, he has fooled sharper ones than you or I. You didn't lend him anything, did you?" "I did not." "Nor invest in green goods or anything of that sort?" "No." "Well, you are one of the lucky ones, then. When I saw him giving you so much chin music I thought he had you sure." "Well, he didn't." And Al left the car on very good terms with himself.