The tenth of October arrived, the date which George Melville had fixed upon for his departure. Mrs. Carr had put Herbert's wardrobe in order, and he had bought himself a capacious carpetbag and an umbrella, and looked forward with eagerness to the day on which their journey was to commence. He had long thought and dreamed of the West, its plains and cities, but had never supposed that it would be his privilege to make acquaintance with them, at any rate, until he should have become twice his present age. But the unexpected had happened, and on Monday he and George Melville were to start for Chicago. CHAPTER XX. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE IN CHICAGO. In due time our travelers reached Chicago, and put up at the Palmer House. Herbert was much impressed by the elegance of the hotel, its sumptuous furniture, and luxurious table. It must be considered that he was an inexperienced traveler, though had he been otherwise he might be excused for his admiration. “I have some business in Chicago, and shall remain two or three days,” said George Melville. Herbert was quite reconciled to the delay, and, as his services were not required, employed his time in making himself familiar with the famous Western city. He kept his eyes open, and found something new and interesting at every step. One day, as he was passing through the lower portion of the city, his attention was called to a young man wheeling a barrow of cabbages and other vegetables, a little in advance of him. Of course, there was nothing singular about this, but there seemed something familiar in the figure of the young man. Herbert quickened his step, and soon came up with him. One glance was enough. Though disguised by a pair of overalls, and without a coat, Herbert recognized the once spruce dry-goods clerk, Eben Graham. Eben recognized Herbert at the same time. He started, and flushed with shame, not because of the theft of which he had been guilty, but because he was detected in an honest, but plebeian labor. “Herbert Carr!” he exclaimed, stopping short. “Yes, Eben; it is I!” “You find me changed,” said Eben, dolefully. “No, I should recognize you anywhere.” “I don't mean that. I have sunk very low,” and he glanced pathetically at the wheelbarrow. “If you refer to your employment, I don't agree with you. It is an honest business.” “True, but I never dreamed when I stood behind the counter in Boston, and waited on fashionable ladies, that I should ever come to this.” “He seems more ashamed of wheeling vegetables than of stealing,” thought Herbert, and he was correct. “How do you happen to be in this business, Eben?” he asked, with some curiosity. “I must do it or starve. I was cheated out of my money soon after I came here, and didn't know where to turn.” Eben did not explain that he lost his money in a gambling house. He might have been cheated out of it, but it was his own fault, for venturing into competition with older and more experienced knaves than himself.