"I was a clerk in New York."

"That means an errand boy, doesn't it?" inquired Brown, shrewdly.

"Yes," said Sam, not disturbed by being found out.

"How much did you receive for your services in New York?"

"Five dollars a week," answered Sam, telling the truth, by way of variety.

"I am afraid it would be hard to get that in Boston. Are you not fit for anything better?"

"I am afraid not," said Sam. "The fact is, I don't know much."

"In other words, your education has been neglected."

"Yes, it has."

"That's in your way. If you wrote a good hand, and were good at figures, you might perhaps do better than become an errand boy, though even then it is doubtful whether you could obtain more than five dollars a week."

"I don't see how I can live on that," said Sam, "even if I could get it."

"It would be rather hard," said the student. "I have twice that for spending money."

"And don't you have to pay for your clothes or your meals?" asked Sam.

"No, nor for my books, nor any of my college bills."

"Your folks must be awful rich," said Sam, not without a touch of envy.

"My father is prosperous in business," Brown admitted.

"Does he live in Boston?"

"No, he lives in Brookline."

"Where is that?"

"Not far from the city--not over three miles away."

"Couldn't your father give me a place in his store?" asked Sam.

"I don't think he has any vacancy,"

Sam looked despondent. Brown appeared to take an interest in him, and he had hoped that he might do something for him.

"But," Brown continued, "I have another plan for you."

"What is it?" asked Sam, his hopes reviving.

"I have a young brother of fourteen at home--there are only two of us; but he is small and delicate. He is lame, besides, having met with an accident when quite young. He is unable to go to school, as it would prove too great a tax upon one in his delicate state of health. He takes lessons at home, however, of a visiting tutor, as in this way his studies can be arranged to suit his varying strength. Now, I have been long of opinion that he requires a boy companion, older than himself, who is naturally lively and cheerful, to share with him in his amusements, to accompany him in his walks, and share with him in his studies. From what I have seen of you, I think you are just the companion my brother wants. Have you any bad habits?"

Sam had shrewdness enough to perceive that it would be better for him to be truthful. Besides, to do him justice, Brown's kindness had made an impression upon him, and he would have felt ashamed to deceive him.

"I am afraid I have," he answered; "but I could get rid of them."

"What are your bad habits?"

"Sometimes I swear," said Sam, candidly.

"Will you give that up?"

"Yes, I will."

"What else?"

"Sometimes I smoke cigars."

"You must give that up. My father abominates cigars."

"I will."

"What else?"

"I don't always tell the truth," said Sam, courageously.

"Lying is very ungentlemanly, to say the least. Do you think you can get over that?"

"Yes."

"Then, I will ask my father to take you on trial. I am going over to Brookline to supper this afternoon, and I will take you over, and talk with him about it. Will you go?"

"I'll go," said Sam, eagerly. "I'd like to be with your brother ever so much."

CHAPTER XXIX.

ARTHUR BROWN.

At half-past five Sam and his companion reached the home of the latter in Brookline. It was a handsome mansion, with ample grounds, standing some rods back from the street.

"That's where I live, Sam," said the young student.

"It's an elegant place," said Sam, admiringly "I hope your father'll take me. I'd like to live here ever so much."

"There's my brother the one I spoke to you about."

Brown pointed out a boy considerably smaller than Sam, who was hurrying to the gate as fast as his lameness would admit. His thin, pale face was lighted up with joy, as he espied his brother.