“Seems to me you are a close observer, for a boy of your years,” said Mr. Hamlin, shrewdly.

Frank smiled.

“I should be glad if your compliment were deserved,” he answered.  “It’s a pity you were not agent, instead of Mr. Fairfield,” suggested Frank, pointedly.

“I wish I were,” answered Hamlin.  “I believe I should make a good one, though I might not turn over as much money to my employer.  I should, first of all, lower the rents and make it as easy for the tenants as I could in justice to my New York principal.”

“Do you know how much Mr. Fairfield receives—­how large a salary, I mean?”

“I know what Mr. Sampson got—­twelve hundred dollars a year; but Mr. Fairfield lives at the rate of more than twice that sum, if I can judge from appearances.”

“I suppose you would be contented with the salary which Mr. Sampson received?”

“Contented!  I should feel like a rich man.  It would not interfere with my carrying on my farm, and I should be able to make something from that.  Why, it is as much as I received as a bookkeeper, and here the expenses of living are small, compared with what they were in Chicago.  I could save money and educate my children, as I cannot do now.  I have a boy who wants a classical education, but of course there are no schools here which can afford it, and I am too poor to send him away from home.  I suppose I shall have to bring him up as a farmer, though it is a great pity, for he is not fitted for it.”

Mr. Hamlin sighed, but Frank felt in unusually good spirits.  He saw his way clear already, not only to recommend Mr. Fairfield’s displacement, but to urge Mr. Hamlin’s appointment in his stead; that is, if his favorable impressions were confirmed on further acquaintance.

“It seems to me,” said the driver, changing the subject, “you might find something better to do than to peddle stationery.”

“I don’t mean to follow the business long,” answered Frank.

“It can’t pay much.”

“I am not wholly dependent upon it,” said our hero.  “There is one advantage about it.  It enables me to travel about and pay my expenses, and you know traveling is agreeable to a boy of my age.”

“That is true.  Well, your expenses won’t amount to much while you are in Jackson.  I shall only charge you just enough to cover expenses—­say three dollars a week.”

Frank was about to insist on paying a larger sum, but it occurred to him that he must keep up appearances, and he therefore only thanked his kind acquaintance.

By this time they had entered the village of Jackson.

“There’s Mr. Fairfield now!” said Mr. Hamlin, suddenly, pointing with his whip to a rather tall, stout man, with a red nose and inflamed countenance, who was walking unsteadily along the sidewalk.

Frank carefully scrutinized the agent, and mentally decided that such a man was unfit for the responsible position he held.