When Tom stepped upon the porch of Farmer Pitcairn’s home, and shook hands with him, and received a motherly kiss from his good wife, he went inside, and, sitting down to their evening meal, asked Mr. Pitcairn whether he had noticed the young man riding in the Warmore carriage with the mother and daughter.

“Yes; I’ve seen him before.  He is a son of an old friend of the family.  I’ve an idee that he and Miss Warmore are intended for each other.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Yes—­let me see.  Ah, it is Catherwood—­G.  Field Catherwood.  He parts his name, like his hair, in the middle.  He is quite a dude in his dress, but when you come to know him pretty well he isn’t such a bad sort of fellow.”

“How is it you know so much about him?” asked Tom in surprise.

“He has stopped here a good many times when out riding with the ladies.  He’s fond of mother’s buttermilk.”

“I thought his kind preferred sweet milk,” Tom could not help remarking, with a laugh; “but I must not judge him too harshly.  We all have our peculiarities, and he is not likely to fancy me any more than I do him.”

Tom returned to his work refreshed and renewed in strength and spirits.  The year passed pleasantly.  That which followed saw him promoted another step, so that when the fourth year opened it saw him in a situation where the salary of but a single employee exceeded his; that was the bookkeeper.

He had every reason to expect that place when the vacancy should occur.  Mr. Warmore had given so many evidences of his regard that it was conceded by all that he was his favorite clerk.  He had never violated his principles of honesty, truthfulness, and consideration for every one with whom he came in contact.  A young man who lives up to that rule of conduct is as sure to succeed, if his life is spared, as the sun is to rise.

The bookkeeper was an elderly gentleman, so well-to-do that, at the beginning of the fifth year, he resigned and gave up all active work.  His son was engaged in successful business in New York, and urged his father to join him, where he would be a partner.  So he left.  His successor in the establishment of Mr. Warmore, instead of being Tom Gordon, was G. Field Catherwood.

Chapter XXII.

It was a surprise to every employee of Mr. Warmore.  To Tom Gordon it was also a keen disappointment.  He had never doubted that the plum would fall to him.  He did not dream that the dudish young man would ever demean himself by manual labor; but Mr. Warmore departed from his usual reticence, to the extent of taking Tom aside and explaining matters.

“Mr. Catherwood is the son of an old college friend of mine.  His father was wealthy, and, at his death some years ago, left everything to him.  Mr. Catherwood has traveled a good deal, but is disposed now to settle down in life and become a business man.  He has made an offer to put a large sum of money in our business, and I have accepted it—­that is, conditionally,” added the merchant with a slight hesitation.