"I have nothing to do with the sickness of your son. When you hired your rooms, you agreed to pay the rent, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir; but----"

"And you didn't say anything about Jimmy being sick or well."

"True for you, sir; but----"

"I think, Mrs. Carlin, you'll have to get hold of the other two dollars and a half some how, or out you'll go. See?"

"Shure, sir, you are very hard with a poor widow," said Mrs. Carlin, wiping her eyes with the corner of her ap.r.o.n.

"Business is business, Mrs. Carlin."

"If Mr. Fairchild were in, he'd trate me better than you. Will he be in soon?"

"Perhaps he will, and perhaps he won't. You can pay the money to me."

"I won't, sir, beggin' your pardon. I'd rather wait and see him."

"Very well! you can take the consequences," and Mr. Mullins eyed the widow with an unpleasant and threatening glance.

She looked very sad, and Chester felt that he should like to give the bookkeeper a good shaking. He could not help despising a man who appeared to enjoy distressing an unfortunate woman whose only crime was poverty.

At this moment the office door opened, and a gentleman of perhaps forty entered. He was a man with a kindly face, and looked far less important than the bookkeeper. Mr. Mullins, on seeing him, laid aside his unpleasant manner, and said, in a matter-of-fact tone:

"This is Mrs. Carlin. She owes six dollars rent, and only brings three dollars and a half."

"How is this, Mrs. Carlin?" inquired Mr. Fairchild, for this was he.

Mrs. Carlin repeated her story of Jimmy's illness and her consequent inability to pay the whole rent.

"When do you think Jimmy will get well?" asked the agent, kindly.

"He's gettin' better fast, sir. I think he'll be able to go to work by Wednesday. If you'll only wait a little while, sir----"

"How long have you been paying rent here?" asked Mr. Fairchild.

"This is the third year, sir."

"And have you ever been in arrears before?"

"No, sir."

"Then you deserve consideration. Mr. Mullins, give Mrs. Carlin a receipt on account, and she will pay the balance as soon as she can."

"Thank you, sir. May the saints reward you, sir! Shure, I told this gentleman that you'd make it all right with me. He was very hard with me."

"Mr. Mullins," said the agent, sternly, "I have before now told you that our customers are to be treated with consideration and kindness."

David Mullins did not reply, but he dug his pen viciously into the paper on which he was writing a receipt, and scowled, but as his back was turned to his employer, the latter did not see it.

When Mrs. Carlin had left the office, Chester thought it best to introduce himself.

"I am Chester Rand, from Wyncombe," he said. "Mr. Conrad came round to introduce me, but you were not in."

"Ah, yes, you have come to be my office boy. I am glad to see you and hope you will like the city. Mr. Mullins, you will set this boy to work."

"He told me he was to work here, but as you had not mentioned it I thought there must be some mistake. He says he doesn't know much about the city."

"Neither did I when I first came here from a country town."

"It will be rather inconvenient, sir. Now, my cousin whom I mentioned to you is quite at home all over the city."

"I am glad to hear it. He will find this knowledge of service--in some other situation," added Mr. Fairchild, significantly.

David Mullins bit his lip and was silent. He could not understand why Felix Gordon, his cousin, had failed to impress Mr. Fairchild favorably. He had not noticed that Felix entered the office with a cigarette in his mouth, which he only threw away when he was introduced to the real estate agent.

"I'll have that boy out of this place within a month, or my name isn't David Mullins," he said to himself.

Chester could not read what was pa.s.sing through his mind, but he felt instinctively that the bookkeeper was his enemy.

CHAPTER XIII.

MR. MULLINS, THE BOOKKEEPER.

Chester felt that it was necessary to be on his guard. The bookkeeper was already his enemy. There were two causes for this. First, Mr.

Mullins was naturally of an ugly disposition, and, secondly, he was disappointed in not securing the situation for his cousin.

At noon the latter made his appearance. He was a thin, dark-complexioned boy, with curious-looking eyes that somehow inspired distrust.

He walked up to the desk where the book keeper was writing.

"Good-morning, Cousin David," he said.

"Good-morning, Felix. Sit down for a few minutes, and I will take you out to lunch."

"All right!" answered Felix. "Who's that boy?" he inquired, in a low voice.

"The new office boy. Wait till we go out, and I will tell you about it."

In five minutes David Mullins put on his hat and coat and went out with his cousin.

"Stay here and mind the office," he said to Chester, "and if anybody comes in, keep them, if possible. If any tenant comes to pay money, take it and give a receipt."