him, on Lexington Avenue, and his name is Absalom Peters."

"And he is rich?"

"Yes, very rich, I believe."

"I have a great mind to ask for a day's vacation from Mr. Crawford,
and go to New York to see him."

"I am afraid it would do no good."

"It would do no harm, except that it would cost something for
traveling expenses. But I would go as economically as possible. Have
I your permission, mother?"

"You can do as you like, Ben; I won't forbid you, though I have little
hope of its doing any good."

"Then I will try and get away Monday. To-morrow is Saturday, and I
can't be spared at the store; there is always more doing, you know, on
Saturday than any other day."

"I don't feel like giving any advice, Ben. Do as you please."

The next day, on his way home to dinner, Ben met his young rival of
the evening previous, Tom Davenport.

"How are you, Tom?" said Ben, nodding.

"I want to speak to you, Ben Barclay," said the young aristocrat,