He knew he was stagnating here in this dingy store; the deadly sameness of his life chafed him sorely. “I'd take another job if I could find one,” he muttered, stirring up the bunches of yellowing radish leaves and trying to make them look fresh. “And Old Daniel is likely to give me a chance to hunt a job pretty sudden--the way he talks. But if Dan, Junior, told him what happened yesterday, I wonder the old gentleman hasn't been after me with a sharp stick.” From somewhere--out of the far-distant open country where it had been breathing all night the quivering pines, and brown swamps, and the white and gray checkered fields that would soon be upturned by the plowshares--a vagrant wind wandered into the city street. The lingering, but faint perfume wafted here from God's open world to die in this man-made town inspired in the youth thoughts and desires that had been struggling within him for expression for days past. “I know what I want,” said Hiram Strong, aloud. “I want to get back to the land!” The progress of the day was not inducive to a hopeful outlook for Hiram. When closing time came he was heartily sick of the business of storekeeping, if he never had been before. And when he dragged himself home to the boarding house, he found the atmosphere there as dreary as the street itself. The boarders were grumpy and Mrs. Atterson was in a tearful state again. Hiram could not stay in his room. It was a narrow, cold place at the end of the back hall at the top of the house. There was a little, painted bureau in it, one leg of which had been replaced by a brick, and the little glass was so blue and blurred that he never could see in it whether his tie was straight or not. There was a chair, a shelf for books, and a narrow folding bed. When the bed was dropped down for his occupancy at night, he could not get the door open. Had there ever been a fire at Atterson's at night, Hiram's best chance for escape would have been by the window. So this evening, to kill the miserable stretch of time until sleep should come to him, the boy went out and walked the streets. Two things had saved Hiram Strong from getting into bad company on these evening rambles. One was the small amount of money he earned, and the other was the naturally clean nature of the boy. The cheap amusements which lured on either hand did not attract him. But the dangers are there in every city, and they lurk for every boy in a like position. The main thoroughfare in this part of the town where Hiram boarded was brightly lighted, gaudy electric signs attracting notice to cheap picture shows, catch-penny arcades, cheap jewelry stores, and the ever present saloons and pool rooms. It looked bright, and warm, and lively in many of these places; but the country-bred boy was cautious.