"DEAR RUPERT: To-morrow is my birthday. Come and spend the evening with me. I will wait dinner till you come. "Your Friend, "FRANK SYLVESTER." Rupert decided at once to accept the invitation. He had learned to like Sylvester, as indeed he had reason to do. He was in doubt as to whether there would be much company, but he was not provided with a nice suit, so that he need not be ashamed of his appearance. Arrived at his friend's residence, he found to his surprise that there was but one other guest besides himself, a Mr. Maxwell, a stout, pleasant-looking man of forty-five. "Rupert," said Sylvester, "this is my cousin, John Maxwell. He is not an idler like myself, but is a partner in a large dry-goods house down on Grand Street. John, this is a special friend of mine. When we first met he was able to do me a service which I shall long remember. I am rather young to adopt him, having only reached the age of twenty-five." "Quarter of a century," laughed Maxwell. "That sounds older, to be sure. At any rate I look upon him as a younger brother, and so have invited him here to my birthday dinner, as a relative." "You don't seem to have many relatives, Mr. Sylvester," said Rupert. "I thought there might be quite a party." "Most of my relatives live in the West. However, I am satisfied to have you here and my Cousin John." "If you are Frank's brother, I suppose I am your cousin also, Rupert," said Mr. Maxwell. "I shall feel proud to have you regard me so, Mr. Maxwell." "May I ask if you are in the same business as Frank?" "Doing nothing at all," laughed Sylvester. "I am a bell-boy at the Somerset Hotel," answered Rupert. He watched Maxwell to see if the revelation of his position would affect that gentleman's opinion of him. "I hope you are well paid." "Yes; I receive five dollars a week and my board." "That is better than you would do with us." "Mr. Maxwell," said Rupert, with a sudden thought, "I wish I knew you better." "Why?" "Because then I might ask you a favor." "To enter our employment? I will take you if you wish, but I advise you to stay where you are." "It is not for myself that I ask, but for an experienced salesman who is in very hard luck. He is working for Stephen Lorimer, of Third Avenue, at five dollars a week." "Five dollars!" exclaimed Maxwell, in surprise. "And you say he is an experienced salesman?" "Yes, sir." "But why should he work for such low wages then?" "Mr. Lorimer knew that he was poor, had a family, and was therefore in his power. He told him to choose between five dollars a week and dismissal." "That is like Lorimer. He has the reputation of being the meanest man in the business. How did you become acquainted with the man you recommend?" Rupert told the story, and both Sylvester and Maxwell were interested. "I suppose you don't know Mr. Lorimer?" said Maxwell.