“No, I am afraid you will find me very green,” answered Grant. “You are not the boy to remain so long,” said Harry, scrutinizing him attentively. “I hope not. You are going to Europe, Mr. Reynolds tells me.” “Yes, the governor is going to take me.” “The governor?” “My father, I mean,” said Harry, smiling. “I suppose you are not sorry to go?” “Oh, no; I expect to have a tip-top time. How would you like it?” “Very much, if I could afford it, but at present I would rather fill your place in the office. I am the son of a poor country minister, and must earn my own living.” “How did you get in with Mr. Reynolds?” asked Harry. Grant told him. “Is he easy to get along with?” he inquired, a little anxiously. “He is very kind and considerate. Still he is stanch, and expects a boy to serve him faithfully.” “He has a right to expect that.” “As I am to break you in, you had better go about with me everywhere. First, we will go to the post-office.” The two boys walked to Nassau Street, where the New York post-office was then located. Harry pointed out the box belonging to the firm, and producing a key opened it, and took out half a dozen letters. “There may be some stock orders in these letters,” he said; “we will go back to the office, give them to Mr. Clark to open, and then you can go with me to the Stock Exchange.” Ten minutes later they entered the large room used by the brokers as an Exchange. Grant looked about him in undisguised astonishment. It seemed like a pandemonium. The room was full of men, shouting, gesticulating and acting like crazy men. The floor was littered with fragments of paper, and on a raised dais were the officers of the Exchange, the chief among them, the chairman, calling rapidly the names of a long list of stocks. Each name was followed by a confused shouting, which Grant learned afterward to be bids for the stock named. There were several groups of brokers, each apparently interested in some leading security. In each of the galleries, one at each end, overlooking the stock room, curious spectators were watching what was going on. Harry Decker was amused at Grant's look of surprise and bewilderment. “You'll get used to it in time,” he said. “Say--there is Mr. Reynolds. I must speak to him.” Mr. Reynolds stood near a placard on which, in prominent letters, was inscribed “Erie.” Harry handed him a paper, which he took, glanced at quickly, and then resumed his bidding. “He has just bought one thousand Erie,” said Harry, aside, to Grant. “One thousand?” “Yes, a thousand shares, at fifty-five.” “Fifty-five dollars?” “Yes.” “Why, that will make fifty-five thousand dollars,” ejaculated Grant, in wonder. “Yes, that is one of the orders I brought over just now.” “A man must have a great deal of capital to carry on this business, if that is only an item of a single day's business.”