"Just a kick in the dark, Mr. Jarrod, and it only hurts because it was so unexpected. I've been a model clerk, you know, and now that I've just spent my surplus capital on a vacation, I'm granted another and longer one, without pay. Well," with an involuntary sigh, "there are other clerkships, of course, and I'll probably get one. But you've no idea, sir, how much labor it takes to find a job at twelve a week--especially in the summer season." "Jim," said Jarrod, thoughtfully, "this is a bit of good luck, if judged from my own selfish viewpoint. I need some one very badly, to help me clear up a lot of accumulated work. Would you mind being my clerk for a few weeks?" Jim's face was beaming. "Do you really mean it, Mr. Jarrod? Can I be of use to you?" "Indeed you can, my boy. You'll have to stay at Tamawaca, but as a worker instead of a drone. Can you run a typewriter?" "Yes; I used one at college for a couple of years, and got to be fairly expert. But I know nothing of short-hand." "That isn't necessary. I shall require your services every forenoon, but you may have the afternoons to yourself. I'll give you twenty dollars a week and pay your board at the hotel." "Isn't that too much, Mr. Jarrod?" "Not for the work you must do. Any intelligent man would cost me that much, and I will need you but a couple of months--until I go home." "Very good, sir. I'll do my best to please you." "Then you're my secretary. Come around to my cottage at nine o'clock Monday morning." "Thank you, Mr. Jarrod." That evening Jim told Susie he would not have to bid her good-bye, as they had expected, for he had been discharged as a dry-goods clerk and employed as a private secretary, which was a distinct advance in his fortunes. Susie listened gravely, but was evidently much pleased. "The girls told me yesterday," she said, "that Katie had written her father and asked him to discharge you, because you had been impudent enough to become acquainted with the exclusive young ladies of Tamawaca under false pretenses." "But I didn't, Susie! I met them through your accident, and they never asked me how I earned a living." "I know; but they forget that. They say you imposed upon them by assuming that you are a gentleman." Jim laughed merrily. "Where do you draw the line, Susie, between a gentleman and--and--what's the other thing?--an undesirable acquaintance?" "Perhaps so. I don't draw the line, myself, so you must ask the girls to explain. Perhaps, now that you've become the private secretary of a famous lawyer, you will be cultivated instead of being snubbed. But I'm not sure of that."