The latter--a large, gruff, red faced man--was not there at the time, but on spying Fred he hurriedly came forward and demanded to know the boy's business. On being informed that employment was wanted, he said he needed no help, and indicated by his manner that he wished to be bothered no further. Young Worthington now dropped down a flight and tried to get work in the card room, but with no success. On the next floor below was the weaving room, and here he soon learned that the overseer considered that he could get along very successfully without his help. But two more departments--the finishing and the dyeing rooms--remained to be visited, and then the ordeal would be over. As the boy descended the stairs to the former, he had very little hope of accomplishing his purpose, for thus far he had received no encouragement whatever. Fred knew the gentleman in charge of the department perfectly well, for he was his Sunday school teacher, and moreover, was the father of his friend Dave; nevertheless he passed down the long hall with many a misgiving, and approaching the overseer timidly, said: "Good morning, Mr. Farrington." "Good morning, Fred," said the latter cordially. "What brings you here this morning?" "I came in, sir," replied Fred, with an evident sense of humiliation, "to see if you could give me work in your department." "Why, you can't mean it! You have not left the store, I hope?" "Yes, I do mean that I want a job, and I am sorry to say I got through in the store last night." "You surprise me! What could have been the trouble?" Fred knew he was now talking to a large hearted, sympathetic man, and one who had always seemed to take a keen interest in his welfare, so he related the entire incident. Mr. Farrington watched him closely as he recited what had taken place at the store, and then the kind hearted man expressed, both by words and manner, his regret that matters should have taken such a turn. "My boy, don't look so discouraged," he said. "I will do what I can to help you. Mr. Rexford should not have judged you so hastily; from what you tell me, I can't see that he has any good proof that you are guilty." "I am certain that I am not guilty, but how can I prove my innocence?" "Ah, that may be difficult, as it is a mysterious affair. But I believe you have told me the truth, and I shall do all I can to help you in every way." Our young friend brightened up somewhat at this cheering statement, and with a grateful look, replied: "You know, Mr. Farrington, I just told you why he so readily suspected me, and he has had no faith in me ever since that time." "That was an unfortunate occurrence, to be sure, but from what Dave says, I think if the whole truth were known you would be blamed less."