The lady followed his flight with kindly amusement, realising sympathetically his embarrassment. And as she went on she wondered about him a little. The reddish-brown hair and the clear, honest blue eyes had been attractive, and, although the tanned and much-freckled face could not have been called handsome, yet there was something about it, perhaps the expression of boyish confidence and candour, that lingered in her memory. Neatly, if inexpensively dressed, his attire had told her that he was not an Amesville boy, while a lack of awkwardness, a general air of self-dependence, seemed to preclude the idea of his being from the country. The problem lasted her only for a short distance and then Tom and the ingenuous incident at the window passed from her mind. But she and Tom were destined to meet again, although neither suspected it. It was exactly half-past one when Tom entered the hardware store once more. On the occasion of his first visit the store had been empty of customers, but now at least half a dozen persons were there, and Mr. Cummings was busy. Tom found a position out of the way and waited. Besides Mr. Cummings, there were two others behind the counters--a tall youth who, as he passed with a customer in tow, looked curiously at the boy, and a small man with dark whiskers who, at his present distance, had a strong likeness to the gentleman who had left his purse in the lunch room. It was several minutes before Mr. Cummings was at leisure, but finally, dropping the change into the glove of a lady who had purchased a tack hammer and three papers of upholstery tacks, he beckoned Tom to the counter. “Well,” he said, “I spoke to Mr. Wright about you, son, but he didn’t think we’d better hire anyone just yet. Maybe a month or so later, if you still want a job, we can take you on. Sorry I can’t do anything now.” Tom’s face fell. He had been so certain since lunch that his troubles were over that the disappointment was deeper than it should have been. “I’m sorry too, sir,” he said after a moment. “Well, I guess I’ll go on. I--I’m much obliged to you. You don’t happen to know of anyone who wants a boy, do you?” “No, I don’t believe I do,” returned Mr. Cummings kindly. He kept step with Tom for a way as the latter moved toward the door. “You might try Miller and Tappen’s, though. That’s the dry-goods store up the street. They take new help on pretty often, I guess.” “I’ve been there,” said Tom. “They said----” “Joe, where have those three-inch brass hooks got to?” asked an impatient voice from the front of the store. “Funny we can’t keep anything in place here!” “Ought to be right in front of you,” replied Mr. Cummings in patient tones. “Second shelf, Horace. No, _second_, I said. There! Got ’em?” “Yes,” replied the dark-whiskered man irritably. “I’ve got them at last!”