“I got this yesterday,” he said.  “It is from an old acquaintance of mine by the name of Harum, who lives in Homeville, Freeland County.  He is a sort of a banker there, and has written me to recommend some one to take the place of his manager or cashier whom he is sending away.  It’s rather a queer move, I think, but then,” said the general with a smile, “Harum is a queer customer in some ways of his own.  There is his letter.  Read it for yourself.”

The letter stated that Mr. Harum had had some trouble with his cashier and wished to replace him, and that he would prefer some one from out of the village who wouldn’t know every man, woman, and child in the whole region, and “blab everything right and left.”  “I should want,” wrote Mr. Harum, “to have the young man know something about bookkeeping and so on, but I should not insist upon his having been through a trainer’s hands.  In fact, I would rather break him in myself, and if he’s willing and sound and no vice, I can get him into shape.  I will pay a thousand to start on, and if he draws and travels all right, may be better in the long run,” etc.  John handed back the letter with a slight smile, which was reflected in the face of the general.  “What do you think of it?” asked the latter.

“I should think it might be very characteristic,” remarked John.

“Yes,” said the general, “it is, to an extent.  You see he writes pretty fair English, and he can, on occasion, talk as he writes, but usually, either from habit or choice, he uses the most unmitigated dialect.  But what I meant to ask you was, what do you think of the proposal?”

“You mean as an opportunity for me?” asked John.

“Yes,” said General Wolsey, “I thought of you at once.”

“Thank you very much,” said John.  “What would be your idea?”

“Well,” was the reply, “I am inclined to think I should write to him if I were you, and I will write to him about you if you so decide.  You have had some office experience, you told me—­enough, I should say, for a foundation, and I don’t believe that Harum’s books and accounts are very complicated.”

John did not speak, and the general went on:  “Of course, it will be a great change from almost everything you have been used to, and I dare say that you may find the life, at first at least, pretty dull and irksome.  The stipend is not very large, but it is large for the country, where your expenses will be light.  In fact, I’m rather surprised at his offering so much.  At any rate, it is a living for the present, and may lead to something better.  The place is a growing one, and, more than that, Harum is well off, and keeps more irons in the fire than one, and if you get on with him you may do well.”

“I don’t think I should mind the change so much,” said John, rather sadly.  “My present life is so different in almost every way from what it used to be, and I think I feel it in New York more even than I might in a country village; but the venture seems a little like burning my bridges.”