“Next Monday morning. It is now Thursday, and that will give you time to remove to the city.” “Perhaps I had better come Saturday, so as to get settled in a boarding-house before going to work. Could you recommend some moderate priced boarding-house, Mr. Reynolds?” “For the first week you may come to my house as my guest. That will give you a chance to look about you. I live at 58 West 3-th Street. You had better take it down on paper. You can come any time on Monday. That will give you a chance to spend Sunday at home, and you need not go to work till Tuesday.” Grant expressed his gratitude in suitable terms, and left the office elated at his good fortune. A surprise awaited him. At the junction of Wall and New Streets he came suddenly upon a large-sized bootblack, whose face looked familiar. “Tom Calder!” he exclaimed. “Is that you?” CHAPTER IX -- 'UNCLE GODFREY PARTS FROM GRANT When Tom Calder turned round and saw who had addressed him, he turned red with mortification, and he tried to hide his blacking box. He was terribly mortified to have it known that he had been forced into such a business. If Tom had nothing worse to be ashamed of he need not have blushed, but he was suffering from false shame. “When did you come to the city?” he stammered. “Only this morning.” “I suppose you are surprised to see me in this business,” said Tom, awkwardly. “There is nothing to be ashamed of,” said Grant. “It is an honest business.” “It's an awful come down for me,” said Tom, uncomfortably. “The fact is, I've had hard luck.” “I am sorry to hear that,” said Grant. “I expected a place in Wall Street, but I came just too late, and things are awful dull anyway. Then I was robbed of my money.” “How much?” asked Grant, curiously, for he didn't believe a word of it. “Eight dollars and thirty-three cents,” replied Tom, glibly. “I thought you were too smart to be robbed,” said Grant, slyly. “If it had been a green boy from the country like me, now, it wouldn't have been surprising.” “I was asleep when I was robbed,” explained Tom, hurriedly. “A fellow got into my room in the night, and picked my pocket. I couldn't help that, now, could I?” “I suppose not.” “So I had to get something to do, or go back to Colebrook. I say, Grant---” “Well?” “Don't you tell any of the fellers at home what business I'm in, that's a good fellow.” “I won't if you don't want me to,” said Grant. “You see, it's only a few days till I can get something else to do.” “It's a great deal better blacking boots than being idle, in my opinion,” said Grant. “That's the way I look at it. But you didn't tell me what you came to the city for?” “I'm coming here for good,” announced Grant. “You haven't got a place, have you?” ejaculated Tom, in surprise. “Yes, I am to enter the office of Mr. Reynolds, a stock broker. There is his sign.” “You don't say so I. Why, that's just the sort of place I wanted. How did you get the chance?”