"So that's your name," said Mr. Whitney. "If I judge you rightly,
it won't be long before you change it. Save your money, my lad,
buy books, and determine to be somebody, and you may yet fill an
honorable position."

"I'll try," said Dick. "Good-night, sir."

"Wait a minute, Dick," said Frank. "Your blacking-box and old
clothes are upstairs. You may want them."

"In course," said Dick. "I couldn't get along without my best
clothes, and my stock in trade."

"You may go up to the room with him, Frank," said Mr. Whitney. "The
clerk will give you the key. I want to see you, Dick, before you
go."

"Yes, sir," said Dick.

"Where are you going to sleep to-night, Dick?" asked Frank, as they
went upstairs together.

"P'r'aps at the Fifth Avenue Hotel--on the outside," said Dick.

"Haven't you any place to sleep, then?"

"I slept in a box, last night."

"In a box?"