“I suppose, then, you will go back to work on the farm?”

Andy smiled.

“Things might be worse,” he said.

“Yes.  I think it is the best thing you can do.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Oh, well, you are a poor boy, and there is nothing else for you to do.”

“Did you ever think of becoming a farmer?”

“I should say not,” replied Conrad, haughtily.  “I shall probably be a lawyer or a merchant.”

“I might become a merchant myself—­some day.”

Conrad laughed.

“When you do,” he said, “let me know.”

“I will.”

“By the way, you won’t want that boat of yours now.”

“Why not?”

“You won’t get time to use it.  I’ll give you twenty dollars for it.”

“It is not for sale,” answered Andy, firmly.

“It will be after a while,” said Conrad, in a self-satisfied tone.  “I will see the time when you will be glad enough to get the money I offer.”

During the few days that Andy remained at home he did some work on the farm.  Mr. Grant’s boy helper was sick with a cold, and Andy stepped into his place.

The next time of Conrad’s meeting him he was at work digging potatoes.  Conrad smiled and nodded.  He felt quite friendly as he witnessed what he considered Andy’s humiliation.

“My father may give you a little job,” he said, as he leaned over the fence.

“What is it?”

“He needs some work done round the house.  He will pay you fifty cents a day.  When can you come?”

“Just at present I am too busy.  If I can spare the time I will let you know.”

“I like to see upstarts brought down to their level,” thought Conrad.  “Andy Grant won’t be putting on any more airs, I reckon.”

On Monday morning Andy stood on the platform of the railroad station with a good-sized gripsack in his hand.  He was about starting for New York to enter upon his duties at the jewelry store.

Swinging a light cane, Conrad Carter appeared on the platform with his father, who was going to the city on business.  With a good deal of surprise he recognized Andy.

“Where are you going?” he asked, abruptly, with a glance at the gripsack.

“To New York,” answered Andy.

“What business have you there?”

“I have a position in a store on Union Square.  I shall be pleased to have you call when you are in the city.”

Conrad was greatly surprised.

“What kind of a store is it?” he asked.

“A jewelry store.  I haven’t a card with me, but will send you one.”

Conrad didn’t appear to be glad at Andy’s good fortune.  He had made up his mind that his humble rival, as he chose to consider him, would be obliged to work on the farm, and now he had found a way to avoid it.

“I think your father will have to find some one else to assist him,” Andy continued; “you see, I shall be otherwise occupied.”