“I don’t think so.”

Finally Silas Greyson agreed, and Ben promised to be on hand bright and early the next day.  It may be stated here that wood was very cheap at Pentonville, so that Ben would not be overpaid.

There were some few things about the house which Ben wished to do for his mother before he went to work anywhere, and he thought this a good opportunity to do them.  While in the store his time had been so taken up that he was unable to attend to them.  He passed a busy day, therefore, and hardly went into the street.

Just at nightfall, as he was in the front yard, he was rather surprised to see Tom Davenport open the gate and enter.

“What does he want, I wonder?” he thought, but he said, in a civil tone:  “Good-evening, Tom.”

“You’re out of business, ain’t you?” asked Tom abruptly.

“I’m not out of work at any rate!” answered Ben.

“Why, what work are you doing?” interrogated Tom, in evident disappointment.

“I’ve been doing some jobs about the house, for mother.”

“That won’t give you a living,” said Tom disdainfully.

“Very true.”

“Did you expect to stay in the store?” asked Tom.

“Not after I heard that your father had bought it,” answered Ben quietly.

“My father’s willing to give you work,” said Tom.

“Is he?” asked Ben, very much surprised.

It occurred to him that perhaps he would have a chance to remain in the store after all, and for the present that would have suited him.  Though he didn’t like the squire, or Mr. Kirk, he felt that he had no right, in his present circumstances, to refuse any way to earn an honest living.

“Yes,” answered Tom.  “I told him he’d better hire you.”

“You did!” exclaimed Ben, more and more amazed.  “I didn’t expect that.  However, go on, if you please.”

“He’s got three cords of wood that he wants sawed and split,” said Tom, “and as I knew how poor you were I thought it would be a good chance for you.”

You might have thought from Tom’s manner that he was a young lord, and Ben a peasant.  Ben was not angry, but amused.

“It is true,” he said.  “I am not rich; still, I am not as poor as you think.”

He happened to have in his pocketbook the money he had brought from New York, and this he took from his pocket and displayed to the astonished Tom.

“Where did you get that money?” asked Tom, surprised and chagrined.

“I got it honestly.  You see we can hold out a few days.  However, I may be willing to accept the job you offer me.  How much is your father willing to pay me?”

“He is willing to give you forty cents a day.”

“How long does he expect me to work for that?”

“Ten hours.”

“That is four cents an hour, and hard work at that.  I am much obliged to you and him, Tom, for your liberal offer, but I can’t accept it.”