"Yes. Wouldn't you?" Walter Gale smiled. "Tell me your reasons," he said. "I have no grudge against him. Besides, if we only benefit those whom we like, there isn't much credit in that." "Exactly. There isn't much credit in my doing you favors." "Don't think I am ungrateful, Mr. Gale; I appreciate all you have done for me." "I understand you, Andy, and I like you better for what you have done. What further plans have you?" "I should like to get John a place, and give him a chance to redeem himself. He needs a friend badly." "He shall have one. We will both help him." When John Crandall awoke the next morning he was himself again. The effects of his intoxication had passed off, and he seemed ashamed of the predicament in which Andy had found him. "Have you any home, John?" asked Andy. "No; that is, I have a room, but I spent all the money that was coming to me, and they won't let me stay. I don't know what I shall do," he said, despondently. "If Mr. Gale and I will find you a new place, will you try to keep it?" "Yes, I will." "Then we will stand by you. You can stay here till I come from the office this afternoon, and I will find you a boarding place." "You are a good fellow, Andy. You are my very best friend." "I will try to be." "And I will try to deserve your kindness." Before the week was out John had a new place on Pearl Street, and was an inmate of the boarding house in Clinton Place, where Andy stayed when he first came to the city. He really turned over a new leaf, and became a favorite and trusted employee in the Pearl Street store. Andy had saved him. CHAPTER XXXVI. SAD FOREBODINGS. The day which had been so eagerly awaited by Squire Carter dawned at last. The mortgage on Sterling Grant's farm was due, and he intended to foreclose. There was a gentleman from the city who had taken a fancy to the farm and had offered him eight thousand dollars for it. The squire hoped to obtain it by foreclosure at less than five thousand. This would be taking advantage of the farmer; but, as the squire said to himself, complacently, "Business is business!" These words are used as an excuse for a great many mean acts. At supper time, the evening before, Sterling Grant looked sad and troubled. "Wife," he said, "I am afraid we shall have to bid good-by to the old farm to-morrow." "Do you really think the squire will foreclose, Sterling?" "I know he will. I called on him to-day, and begged and pleaded with him to extend the mortgage another year, but it was all in vain." "I don't see how people can be so hard-hearted," said Mrs. Grant, indignantly. "It's the squire's nature. He says that business is business." "I thought perhaps Andy might do something. He has five hundred dollars, and maybe a little more." "It would do no good, wife. I hinted that I might be able to pay a part of the mortgage, but the squire wouldn't hear of it. He said the whole or none." "I am sure Andy would help us if he could."