Sam, who was always on the lookout for chances, here saw an opening. He dashed forward, lifted the old gentleman to his feet, and ran after his hat, and restored it. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "I think I have sprained my ankle. Help me upstairs to my office," said the old man. He pointed to a staircase leading up from the sidewalk. "All right," said Sam. "Lean on me." CHAPTER XX. SAM GETS INTO A NEW BUSINESS. Sam helped the old man up two flights of stairs. "Shall we go any farther?" he asked. "No; that's my office," said his companion, pointing to a door, over which was the number 10. From his pocket he drew a key, and opened the door. Sam entered with him. The room was small. One corner was partitioned off for an inner office. Inside was a chair, something like a barber's chair, and a table covered with instruments. Sam's curiosity was aroused. He wondered what sort of business was carried on here. He also wondered whether he would get anything for his trouble. "If you don't want me any longer I'll go," he said, by way of a delicate hint. "Stop a minute," said the old man, who had limped to a sofa in the outer office, and sat down. "I guess I'll get something," thought Sam, cheerfully complying with the request. "What do you do for a living?" asked the old man. "Sometimes I black boots, sometimes I sell papers,--anything that'll pay." "What are you doing now?" "Nothing. Business aint good." "Would you like something to do?" Sam gave a glance into the office, and answered dubiously, "Yes." He was not at all clear about the nature of the employment likely to be offered. "Then I may be able to give you a job. Do you know my business?" "No, sir." "I'm a corn-doctor--you've heard of Dr. Felix Graham, the celebrated corn-doctor, haven't you?" said the old man, complacently. "Yes," said Sam, thinking that this was the answer expected. "I am Dr. Graham," said the old man, proudly. "Are you?" said Sam in some curiosity. "Yes. Now I'll tell you what I want you to do. Go and bring me that pile of circulars." He pointed to a pile of papers on the floor in the corner. Sam brought them as directed. "Can you read?" asked the doctor. "Yes, sir, a little." "Read that circular." Sam read as follows: "DR. FELIX GRAHAM, CHIROPODIST. Corns and bunions cured without pain. Satisfaction guaranteed. BROADWAY, ROOM 10." Sam bungled over the word chiropodist, but was put right by the doctor. "I want a boy to stand at the door, and distribute these circulars," said Dr. Graham. "Can you do it?" "Of course I can," said Sam. "What pay will I get?" "Ten cents a hundred;" said the doctor, "but you mustn't do as my last boy did." "How did he do?" asked Sam. "He was so anxious to get rid of them that he gave half a dozen away at a time. I caught him in it. He wanted to earn money too fast." "He was smart," said Sam, with a grin. "I don't like that kind of smartness," said the doctor, sharply. "I want you to serve me faithfully."