“I know what I like real well,” came from little Georgie. “I’m going to keep a candy store when I grow up. I like that real well.” “Good for you, Georgie!” laughed Frank. “Only don’t eat up all the stock yourself.” “Will you buy from me when I keep the store?” continued the little fellow. “To be sure, I will—or, maybe, I’ll be a salesman for you—and Ruth can be the cashier.” “What’s a cashier?” “The one who takes in the money.” “No, I want to take in the money myself,” came from Georgie, promptly. Thus the talking went on, and while it is in progress and the family are waiting for the return of Mr. Hardy from his business trip, let me take the opportunity of introducing them more specifically than I have already done. The Hardy family were six in number, Mr. Thomas Hardy and his wife; Mark, who was three years older than Frank, and the children already introduced. Mr. Hardy was a flour and feed dealer, and at one time had had the principal store in that line in Claster, the town in which the family resided. He had made considerable money, and the family were counted well to do. But during the past two years two rivals with capital had come into the field, and trade with the flour and feed merchant had consequently fallen off greatly. Mr. Hardy had expected to send his oldest son, Mark, to college, but the youth had begged to be allowed to take an ocean trip, and had at last been allowed to ship on a voyage to South America. He was to return home in seven or eight months, but during the past three months nothing had been heard of him. Frank, Ruth, and little Georgie all attended the same school in Claster, Georgie being in the kindergarten, and Ruth in one of the grammar grades. Frank was in the graduating class, and after a vacation in the country, expected to prepare himself for high school. He was just now deep in his final examinations at the grammar school, and so far had done well, much to his parents’ satisfaction. “Mother, what took father to Philadelphia?” asked Frank, after a spell of silence, during which he had devoted himself to the viands set before him. At this question a shade of anxiety crossed Mrs. Hardy’s face. “He went on very important business, Frank. I cannot explain to you exactly what it was. He was to see Mr. Garrison, the man he used to buy flour from.” “Jabez Garrison?” “Yes.” “I never liked that man, mother; did you?” “I really can’t say, Frank—I never had much to do with him.” “I saw him at the store several times—doing business with father. He somehow put me in mind of a snake.” “Oh, Frank!” burst in Ruth. “A man don’t look like a snake,” was little Georgie’s sober comment. “That is not a very complimentary thing to say, Frank,” said Mrs. Hardy, somewhat severely. “I can’t help it, mother. He has such an oily, smooth manner about him.” “Your father has spoken of him as a very good friend in business. I believe he gave your father prices which were better than he could get elsewhere.”