"Perhaps I can arrange to keep you," he said. "You know as much about the business as Mr. Palmer. I can discharge him and keep you." "I would not consent to that, sir. Livingston Palmer needs his salary, and I wouldn't be willing to deprive him of it. I can get along somehow. When do you wish me to go?" "My nephew arrived at my house this morning. He will be ready to go to work on Monday morning." "Very well, sir." "Of course I will give you a good recommendation--a first class one." "Thank you, sir." At six o'clock the broker handed Robert his week's wages, and Robert went out of the office, out of a place, and with prospects by no means flattering. Fortunately for Robert he had about twenty dollars in his pocket, so that he was not in any immediate danger of suffering from want. He would have had more, but had bought some necessary articles of wearing apparel, assuming that his position was a permanent one. Of course he began to seek for another place immediately. He examined the advertising columns of the daily papers, and inquired for anything he thought would suit him. But it so happened that business was unusually quiet, and he met with refusals everywhere, even where it was apparent that he was regarded favorably. There was one exception, however. He was offered three dollars a week in a small furnishing goods store, but this he felt that he could not afford to accept. As he came back to his boarding place every afternoon, he grew more and more despondent. "Is there no place open to me in this big city?" he asked himself. One thing he was resolved upon. He would not go back to his old home. It would be too much of a triumph for his step-father, who had often predicted that Robert would fail in his undertaking to support himself. And yet he must do something. He began to watch the newsboys near the Sherman House briskly disposing of their merchandise. "I wonder if they make much," he thought. He put the question to one pleasant-looking boy, of whom he bought an evening paper. "I make about sixty or seventy cents a day," was the reply. Sixty or seventy cents a day! That meant about four dollars a week. It was scarcely better than the salary offered in the furnishing goods store, and the employment would not be so agreeable. He felt that he should not like to have his step-father or any one who knew him in his native town seeing him selling daily papers in the street, so he decided not to take up that business except as a last resort. One day he went into a large dry goods store to purchase a small article. He made his purchase and started to go out. All at once he heard a cry, proceeding from a lady. "I have lost my purse." "That boy's got it!" said a voice. Then much to his bewilderment Robert found himself seized by the shoulder, and a pocket-book was drawn out from the side pocket of his sack coat. "Send for an officer!" said the floor-walker. "The boy is a thief!" CHAPTER II.