“Not for a moment. I wish Tom well, but I shouldn't like to be too intimate with him. And now, mother, I think I ought to write to Uncle Godfrey, and tell him what I have decided upon.” “That will be proper, Grant.” Grant wrote the following letter, and mailed it at once: “DEAR UNCLE GODFREY: I am afraid you won't like what I have to tell you, but I think it is my duty to the family to give up the college course you so kindly offered me, in view of father's small salary and narrow means. I have been offered a place in the office of a stock broker in New York, and have accepted it. I enter upon my duties next Monday morning. I hope to come near paying my own way, and before very long to help father. I know you will be disappointed, Uncle Godfrey, and I hope you won't think I don't appreciate your kind offer, but I think it would be selfish in me to accept it. Please do forgive me, and believe me to be Your affectionate nephew, GRANT THORNTON.” In twenty-four hours an answer came to this letter. It ran thus: “NEPHEW GRANT: I would not have believed you would act so foolishly and ungratefully. It is not often that such an offer as mine is made to a boy. I did think you were sensible enough to understand the advantages of a professional education. I hoped you would do credit to the name of Thornton, and keep up the family reputation as a man of learning and a gentleman. But you have a foolish fancy for going into a broker's office, and I suppose you must be gratified. But you needn't think I will renew my offer. I wash my hands of you from this time forth, and leave you to your own foolish course. The time will come when you will see your folly. GODFREY THORNTON.” Grant sighed as he finished reading this missive. He felt that his uncle had done him injustice. It was no foolish fancy, but a conscientious sense of duty, which had led him to sacrifice his educational prospects. On Monday morning he took the earliest train for New York. CHAPTER X -- A DAY IN WALL STREET Grant went at once on his arrival in the city to Mr. Reynolds' office. He had in his hand a well-worn valise containing his small stock of clothing. The broker was just leaving the office for the Stock Exchange as Grant entered. “So you are punctual,” he said, smiling. “Yes, sir, I always on time.” “That is an excellent habit. Here, Harry.” In answer to this summons, Harry Becker, a boy two years older and correspondingly larger than Grant, came forward. He was a pleasant-looking boy, and surveyed Grant with a friendly glance. “Harry,” said Mr. Reynolds, “this is your successor. Do me the favor of initiating him into his duties, so that when you leave me he will be qualified to take your place.” “All right, sir.” The broker hurried over to the Exchange, and the two boys were left together. “What is your name?” asked the city boy. “Grant Thornton.” “Mine is Harry Becker. Are you accustomed to the city?”