so enjoyable a summer and made so good a friend."

"I shall be delighted to have your company, Mr. Gale."

Two evenings later, as Andy was walking up Broadway toward his new home,
he saw a familiar figure in front of him--the figure of a boy about his
own age. Evidently the boy had been drinking, and could not walk
straight.

Once, as he turned half around, Andy, with a start, recognized John
Crandall, who had treated him so meanly at Mr. Flint's. He had no reason
to like him, but his compassion was aroused.

"John," said Andy, linking his arm in his, "how do you happen to be in
this condition?"

"Who are you?" hiccoughed John.

"I am Andy Grant. Don't you know me?"

"Yes, you used to be at Mr. Flint's. Where are you taking me?" he asked,
suspiciously.

"To my room. I will take care of you to-night. What are you doing now?"

"I was in a place on Wall Street, but I got bounced yesterday. I took
the money they paid me and got drunk."

"That was foolish. Where is your uncle?"