"Your uncle was awful mad to think you had run away, and madder still when he found you had sold the cow. He thought you were hiding in Cleveland, and he stayed in that city three days before he gave up the search. He claims that the cow belonged to him--that he took it for board and clothing for you, and he also sticks to it that you tried to burn down his barn. He says he is going to make it hot for you if he ever finds you. You can make sure I shan't tell him where you are." Nat read the letter with keen interest, not once but several times, and shook his head slowly over the communication. "I suppose Uncle Abner will always think I set fire to the barn," he thought. "Wish I could catch the person who really did do it. Must have been some tramp who was sleeping there and using a pipe." At the end of the third week's work Nat had seven dollars saved, of which amount he was reasonably proud. But now came a setback for which he was not prepared. "We have sold this concern to another party," said one of the proprietors to him. "After Saturday your services will be no longer required." "Won't the new bosses need me?" "No, for they have all the help of their own that they can use. Only our head bookkeeper will remain." This was on Thursday, and during the balance of the week our hero looked around in his spare hours for another position, but without success. Monday morning found him doing nothing. "As you said, it is not so easy to get a hold," said he to Dick. "Still, I don't feel quite so green as when I first reached New York. I at least know something about the streets and the stores." Nat lost no time in looking for another place. But nothing turned up Monday or Tuesday, and Wednesday it rained so hard that he did not go out until after noon. Then he visited a fashionable wholesale jewelry establishment. Here he was asked to wait, while one of the proprietors interviewed a young man who had come in ahead of our hero. The young man was dressed as a perfect dude, with a light checked suit, and very light gloves. He spoke with a drawl, and Nat heard every word that he said. "What is your business, sir?" asked the jeweler. "I believe, sir," said the young gentleman, "that you advertised for a--aw--a secretary." "A clerk, yes, sir." "Aw, all the same. Well, sir--aw--if we can agree upon terms, I should be--aw--flattered to proffer my services." "Ah, indeed!" And the jeweler raised his eyebrows slightly. "Yes, sir. You will be pleased to learn that all my connections--aw--move in the first circles." "Undoubtedly that is very gratifying. But you mentioned terms. May I ask you what you expect?" "Well, sir, perhaps a couple of thousand or so, a year. Then, I should wish to make certain stipulations--aw--as to the time I'm employed." "Go on." "For example, I never--aw--get up very early. I think it injures the health. But I think I could manage to get to the office by ten in the morning."