"Mr. Peter Thompson?"

"No, he isn't."

"Where is he?"

"At his store, I expect."

"Is Mrs. Thompson at home?"

"I don't know. I'll see. Who shall I say wants to see her?"

"Randy Thompson."

Randy was left standing in the elegantly furnished hallway while the servant departed. He could not help but contrast such elegance with his own modest home.

"Come into the drawing room," said the servant, briefly, on returning, and ushered him into the finest apartment he had ever entered.

Here he was kept waiting for fully quarter of an hour. Then a showily dressed woman swept into the room with a majestic air and fixed a cold stare upon our hero.

"Are you my aunt?" he asked, somewhat disconcerted by his chilling reception.

"Really, I couldn't say--not having seen you before," she answered.

"My name is Randy Thompson. I am the son of Louis Thompson, of Riverport."

"Ah, I see."

The woman said no more, but seemed to await developments. Randy was greatly embarra.s.sed. His aunt's coldness repelled him, and he easily saw that he was not a welcome visitor. A touch of pride came to him and he resolved that he would be as unsociable as his relative.

"What can he want of me?" thought the woman.

As Randy said nothing more she grew tired of the stillness and drew herself up once more.

"You must excuse me this morning," she said. "I am particularly engaged. I suppose you know where your uncle's store is. You will probably find him there." And then she rang for the servant to show our hero to the door. He was glad to get out into the open air once more.

"So that is Aunt Grace," he mused. "Well, I don't know as I shall ever wish to call upon her again. She is as bad as an iceberg for freezing a fellow. No wonder she and mother have never become friends."

CHAPTER VIII

RANDY AND HIS UNCLE PETER

From his uncle's home Randy rode on his bicycle to Peter Thompson's store--a fairly large concern, the largest, in fact, in Deep Haven. He found his uncle behind a desk in the rear, busy over some accounts. For several minutes he paid no attention to his visitor. Then he stuck his pen behind his ear and gave Randy a sharp look.

"How do you do, Uncle Peter?" said the youth.

"Why--er--who is this?" stammered Peter Thompson. "I don't seem to quite know you."

"I am Randy Thompson, your nephew."

"Oh, yes, my younger brother Louis' son, I believe."

"Yes, sir."

"I remember you now." Peter Thompson held out a flabby and cold hand.

"Come to town on business, I suppose."

"In a way, yes, sir. Father is down with rheumatism."

"Hum! Didn't take proper care of himself, I suppose."

"He had to work in a cellar and that put him in bed."

"And you have come to ask help, I suppose." Peter Thompson's face dropped quickly. "I am sorry, but my family expenses are very large, and trade is dull. If I were able----"

"You are mistaken," said Randy, a flush mounting to his brow. "I do not come for a.s.sistance. I am old enough to work, if I only knew what to do. Mother told me to come to you for advice."

Peter Thompson looked relieved when he understood that Randy's visit meant no demand upon his purse, and he regarded the youth more favorably than he had done.

"Ah, that's well," he said, rubbing his flabby hands together. "I like your independence. _Now_, let me see." He scratched his head. "Do you know anything about horses?"

"No, sir; but perhaps I could learn."

"The livery-stable keeper wants a boy, but he must know all about horses."

"How much would he pay a week?"

"Two dollars at the start."

"That would not be enough for me."

"I might get you in some store in the city," continued Peter Thompson.

"Would you like that?"

"If it paid, yes."

"It would pay but little the first year. But you would gain a valuable experience."

"I cannot afford that, Uncle Peter. I must earn something at once, to support our family."

"Then I don't know what can be done," said the storekeeper, with a shrug of his shoulders. "There are very few things that boys of your age can do, and it is so easy to obtain boys that people are not willing to pay much in wages."

Randy looked crestfallen and his uncle embarra.s.sed. The merchant feared that he might be compelled by the world's opinion to aid his brother and his family. But suddenly an idea struck him.

"Do you know anything about farming?" he inquired.