“What pay will you receive?”

“If you will excuse me, I would rather not tell.”

“Oh, just as you like.  Where will you live?  Will you sleep in the store?”

“No; I am to board on Clinton Place, with a Mrs. Norris.”

“Did you know about this when we were talking the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I would have done so if I had known how much interest you took in my plans.”

The rumble of the approaching train was heard, and Andy was obliged to enter a car.  It chanced that it was unusually full, and Andy found but one vacant seat—­the one beside Squire Carter.

The squire now noticed Andy for the first time.

“Where are you going, Andrew?” he asked.

“To New York, sir.”

“On any special errand?”

“I am going to work there.”

“Indeed!  What kind of a place?”

“I shall have a place with Mr. Flint, of Union Square, a jeweler.”

“I suppose Mr. Gale obtained you the place?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am not sure that you are acting wisely.  I doubt if you can make expenses.  What are you to be paid?”

“Five dollars a week.”

“That is very fair pay for a boy of your age, but it won’t go very far in New York.”

“I suppose New York is an expensive place to live in,” said Andy, noncommittally.

“Yes.  You will have to pay all your wages for board.  Your other expenses will have to come out of your father’s pocket.”

“I may be advanced.”

“It will be a good while, first.  You seem to be acting very injudiciously.”

This remark did not trouble Andy.  As his board was to be paid by Mr. Gale, his salary would be practically ten dollars a week; but this he did not care to tell.

“Country boys are always in a stew to get work in the city,” observed the squire.  “If they would only take the advice of their elders, they would see that it is better to stay in the country.”

“They think probably that there is more chance of advancement in the city.  Horace Greeley never would have risen to distinction if he had remained in his native village.”

“Ahem! there are exceptions.  What is the number of the store where you will be employed?”

Andy told him.

“I may call in upon you some time.  I am often in the city on business.”

“I shall be glad if you will,” said Andy, sincerely.  “It will seem pleasant to me to see an Arden face.”

Andy got out of the cars at the Grand Central Depot.  He was not quite sure of his way to Clinton Place, but he was not in the least disturbed.  He was naturally self-reliant.

He asked the question of a gentleman, and was advised to take a Fourth Avenue car through the tunnel as far as Eighth Street, but he thought he should prefer to walk, as it would enable him to enjoy the sights and scenes of the metropolis.  All these were fresh and interesting to him.