"Then why did you come?" "I am not my own master. Mrs. Lane, my stepmother, made the arrangement with Mr. Tubbs." "I expect you feel above it?" "I don't say that, but it's not to my taste." "How much will you get?" Gerald had no objection to tell, and answered, quietly: "Three dollars a week." "That ain't much. I get six and my board. You know, I board with Mr. Tubbs. I'm a cousin of Mrs. Tubbs." "Do you like it?" "No; I have too much looking after. When a man is my age, he doesn't want to be interfered with." "No one likes to be interfered with." "Just so. I see you and I will get along first-rate." As the morning advanced Gerald found himself quite busy. It was awkward at first to weigh butter and sugar and other articles that were called for, but he was quick, and soon "got the hang" of his new duties. Early in the afternoon he was introduced to the books of the concern, and found them in a mixed-up state, as neither Mr. Tubbs nor his chief salesman knew anything about book-keeping. He suggested to the grocer to buy a new set of books, which he agreed to do. About supper time his friend John Holman came into the store, and Gerald weighed out for him two pounds of sugar. "It seems odd to see you behind the counter, Gerald," he said. "It seems so to me." "How do you like it?" "I don't like it very well, but I have hardly been here long enough to judge." "It's a shame that you should fill such a position with all your book learning." Gerald smiled. "I shan't have much use for my French and Latin here," he said. "Suppose I make them over to you!" "They wouldn't help me in pegging shoes, Gerald. But never mind; the time will come when you will find them useful. You won't stay here all your life." "I certainly hope not." Just then Abel entered the store. He looked about him till he saw Gerald and a smile lighted up his face. "Ma wants you to bring home four pounds of butter when you come to supper," he said. "Here's a tin pail to put it in." "Why don't you take it yourself?" asked John. "Because I don't choose to," answered Abel, superciliously. "I will take it," said Gerald, quietly. At this moment the grocer came round to where he was standing. "You can go to supper, Gerald," he said. Gerald put up the butter, and went out with John Holman. "How can you stand Abel's insolence?" asked John, hotly. "Because I despise him. He is only acting according to his nature. He is what the English call a cad." "He thinks himself superior to you." "He is probably alone in that opinion, and I don't mind what he thinks." In the evening, when the store closed, Brandon said to him: "Come round to the billiard-room and play a game with me, Gerald." "Thank you, but I don't play billiards." "I will teach you. You will learn easily." "How much does it cost?" "Twenty-five cents a game." "My salary is so small that I can't afford it." "Well, come in at any rate and see the playing."