He rapidly described what it contained, including the lists of names and the mail order routing cards. The hardware man listened in a bored, impatient way. “Don’t want any of the truck,” he said. “Burn it up, do what you want with it. Get that freight on to me quick as you can, Newton. Buckner here will settle your bill for services. Good-bye.” Frank Newton stood like one in a dream after his visitors had departed. A great wave of hope, ambition, the grandest anticipations filled his mind. “Mine!” he said, passing slowly from heap to heap consigned to him as a free gift. “Mine,” he repeated, his hand resting on the zinc box. “At least fifty dollars in cash out of the work I have done, and the basis of a regular business in what that man has given me. Oh, what a royal start!” CHAPTER X A VISIT TO THE CITY “It almost frightens me!” said Frank Newton’s mother. The speaker looked quite serious, as she sat facing her son, who had just read over to her the contents of several closely-written sheets of paper. “It needn’t, mother,” answered Frank with a bright, reassuring smile. “Mr. Buckner gave me my motto when I started in at this work. It was ‘Sense and System.’ They seem to win.” “Yes, Frank, and I am very proud and happy to see you so much in earnest, and so successful.” “I have over one hundred dollars in hand,” proceeded Frank. “We shall get fully as much more from the sale of our assorted needle packages and the general junk stuff down stairs. Mother, I call that pretty fine luck for three weeks’ work.” “You have certainly been very fortunate,” murmured Mrs. Ismond. “Then if it is a streak of fortune solely,” said Frank, “I propose to make it the basis of my bigger experiment. Yes, mother, I have fully decided I shall get into the mail order business right away. The first step in that direction is to see Mr. Morton, the Riverton hardware merchant who was burned out. He has gone into some book concern in the city. I shall go there on the night train, see him, and then I will know definitely where I stand.” “Is it necessary to see him?” asked Frank’s mother. “Mr. Buckner says that everything he left at the fire was sold as salvage. The Lancaster man made you a present of that old zinc box. I don’t see, having abandoned it, how Mr. Morton has any further claim on it.” “That is because you have not thought over the matter as much as I have,” observed Frank. “Perhaps Mr. Morton doesn’t know that the papers in the zinc box were nearly all saved. No, mother, I intend to start my business career on clean, clear lines. I feel it my duty to apprise Mr. Morton of the true condition of things. If I lose by it, all right. I have acted according to the dictates of my conscience.” Mrs. Ismond glanced fondly and fervently at Frank. Her approbation of his sentiments showed in her glistening eyes.