Chester took the extended hand. He was not especially drawn to Felix, but felt that it behooved him to be polite.

"You boys must be somewhere near the same age," said the bookkeeper. "I will give you a chance to become acquainted. Chester, I want you to go to number four seventy-one Bleecker Street. I suppose you don't know where it is?"

"No, sir."

"Felix, go with him and show him the way."

Chester was quite amazed at this unusual and unexpected kindness on the part of a man whom he had regarded as an enemy. Was it possible that he had misjudged him?

The two boys went out together.

When they were fairly in the street, Felix produced his package of cigarettes.

"Have one?" he asked.

"No, thank you; I don't smoke."

"Don't smoke!" repeated Felix, in apparent amus.e.m.e.nt. "You don't mean that?"

"I never smoked a cigarette in my life."

"Then it's high time you learned. All boys smoke in the city."

"I don't think I should like it."

"Oh, nonsense! Just try one for my sake."

"Thank you, Felix. You are very kind, but I promised mother I wouldn't smoke."

"Your mother lives in the country, doesn't she?"

"Yes."

"Then she won't know it."

"That will make no difference. I made the promise, and I mean to keep it," said Chester, firmly.

"Oh, well, suit yourself. What a m.u.f.f he is!" thought Felix. "However, he'll soon break over his virtuous resolutions. Do you know," he continued, changing the subject, "that you have got the situation I was after?"

"I think I heard Mr. Mullins say something about it. I am sorry if I have stood in your way."

"Oh, if it hadn't been you it would have been some other boy. How do you think you shall like the city?"

"Very much, I think."

"What pay do you get?"

"Five dollars a week."

"You can't live on that."

"I will try to."

"Of course, it is different with me. I should have lived at home.

You'll have to run into debt."

"I will try not to."

"Where do you live?"

"I am staying with a friend--Mr. Conrad, an artist--just now, but I shall soon get a boarding place."

"I live on Eighty-sixth Street--in a flat. My father is in the custom house."

"How long has your cousin--Mr. Mullins--been in this office?"

"About five years. He's awfully smart, cousin David is. It's he that runs the business. Mr. Fairchild is no sort of a business man."

Chester wondered how, under the circ.u.mstances, Mr. Mullins should not have influence enough to secure the situation of office boy for Felix.

They soon reached Bleecker Street. Chester took notice of the way in order that he might know it again. He was sharp and observing, and meant to qualify himself for his position as soon as possible.

At five o'clock the office was vacated. Chester remained to sweep up. A piece of paper on the floor attracted his attention. He picked it up and found, to his surprise, that it was James Long's missing receipt.

It was on the floor of the clothes closet, and he judged that it had dropped from the bookkeeper's pocket.

What should he do with it?

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TABLES TURNED.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, Chester would have handed the receipt to the bookkeeper, but he was convinced that it was the purpose of Mr.

Mullins to defraud the tenant out of a month's rent, and he felt that it would not be in the interest of the latter for him to put this power in the hands of the enemy. Obviously the receipt belonged to James Long, who had lost it.

Fortunately, Chester had the address of the mechanic on East Twentieth Street, and he resolved, though it would cost him quite a walk, to call and give him the paper. In twenty minutes after locking the office he found himself in front of a large tenement house, which was occupied by a great number of families. He found that Long lived on the third floor back.

He knocked at the door. It was opened to him by a woman of forty, who had a babe in her arms, while another--a little girl--was holding onto her dress.

"Does Mr. James Long live here?" asked Chester.

"Yes."

"Is he at home?"