“I hope you don’t think I did wrong,” he concluded.

“By no means,” said Mr. Danforth, warmly.  “Your conduct was entirely creditable.  As for Smith, I know of him.  He is a sharper.  It would have done you no good to remain in his employ.”

Paul was pleased with this commendation.  He had thought it possible that his dismissal from his former situation might operate against him with the merchant.

“What are your present plans and wishes?” asked Mr. Danforth, after a slight pause.

“I should like to enter a merchant’s counting-room,” said Paul, “but as such places are hard to get, I think I shall try to get into a store.”

Mr. Danforth reflected a moment, then placing a piece of paper before our hero, he said, “Will you write your name and address on this piece of paper, that I may know where to find you, in case I hear of a place?”

Paul did as directed.  He had an excellent handwriting, a point on which the merchant set a high value.

The latter surveyed the address with approval, and said, “I am glad you write so excellent a hand.  It will be of material assistance to you in securing a place in a counting-room.  Indeed, it has been already, for I have just thought of a place which I can obtain for you.”

“Can you, sir?” said Paul, eagerly.

“Where is it?”

“In my own counting-room,” said Mr. Danforth, smiling.

“I am very much obliged to you,” said Paul, hardly believing his ears.

“I was prepared to give it to you when you came in, in case I found you qualified.  The superiority of your handwriting decides me.  When can you come?”

“To-morrow, if you like, sir.”

“I like your promptness.  As it is the middle of the week, however, you may take a vacation till Monday.  Your salary will begin to-morrow.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I will give you five dollars per week at first, and more as your services become more valuable.  Will that be satisfactory?”

“I shall feel rich, sir.  Mr. Smith only gave me a dollar and a quarter.”

“I hope you will find other differences between me and Mr. Smith,” said the merchant, smiling.

These preliminaries over, Mr. Danforth opened the door, and glancing at Dawkins, said, “Dawkins, I wish you to become acquainted with your fellow clerk, Paul Prescott.”

Dawkins looked surprised, and anything but gratified as he responded stiffly, “I have the honor of being already acquainted with Mr. Prescott.”

“He is a little jealous of an interloper,” thought Mr. Danforth, noticing the repellent manner of young Dawkins.  “Never mind, they will get acquainted after awhile.”

When George Dawkins went home to dinner, his father observed the dissatisfied look he wore.

“Is anything amiss, my son?” he inquired.

“I should think there was,” grumbled his son.

“What is it?”