How he should be able to stand it he did not know.  He determined, however, to do his duty as well as he knew how, and not to reply when the head clerk was insolent and abusive.

About an hour later Simon Rich gave him a postal, which he directed him to drop in the nearest mail box.

It was addressed to John Crandall, Andy’s predecessor, and ran thus: 

    “DEAR JOHN:  Come around as soon as you can.  I have news for you.

    Your uncle,
    SIMON RICH.”

About four o’clock John Crandall entered the store.

“Andrew,” said Rich, “you may go to the branch post office at Ninth Street and get a dollar’s worth of postage stamps.”

Andy understood that stamps were not needed, and that the errand was devised to get him out of the way.  However it was his duty to obey.

When he was fairly out of the store, John asked, with some curiosity: 

“What is the news you were going to tell me, Uncle Simon?”

“Mr. Flint has started for Colorado, and I am in full charge of the store,” answered Rich, with a triumphant smile.

“Golly!  That’s great news!” exclaimed John.  “Now you can discharge that cub and get me in again.”

“I mean to, but you will have to wait a few days.”

“Why need I?”

“Because I must have a good excuse for bouncing him.  Mr. Flint will inquire, you know.”

“I should think it would be easy to invent one.”

“Well, not altogether easy, but I have a plan.  You see, the boy is one of the goody-goody kind who has no bad habits.  If I could catch him playing pool, or anything of that kind, there would be no trouble; but he is one of your model boys.”

“Like me,” suggested John.

“I never took you for a model boy.  Still, you are my nephew, and I must do the best I can for you.”

“What is the plan you have thought of?”

“I haven’t fully decided; but come in to-morrow, and I may think of something by that time.”

“I wish I was here now.  It will be good fun, now that old Flint is gone.”

“Be careful not to say ‘old Flint’ before Andrew.  He might repeat it to the boss when he returns.”

“If he should I would punch his head,” said John, promptly.

“I don’t think I would advise you to do that,” said Simon Rich, shrewdly.

“Why not?  I could lick him with one hand.”

“If you ever get into a fight with him you will need two.  He is strong and muscular.”

“You seem to be taking his part, Uncle Simon.”

“Not at all, but I won’t shut my eyes to facts.  Andrew is much stronger than you are.”

John did not look well pleased, but his uncle added: 

“In this case, however, it is not a matter of strength.  We must use cunning.”

“All right, uncle.  You know best, of course.”

“Of course I know best.  All you have to do is to be guided by me.  We must get rid of him in such a way that Mr. Flint will approve of my action.”