“Not just now.  He’ll be in soon.  Will you wait?”

“Yes,” said Dick.

“Very well; take a seat then.”

Dick sat down and took up the morning “Tribune,” but presently came to a word of four syllables, which he pronounced to himself a “sticker,” and laid it down.  But he had not long to wait, for five minutes later Mr. Greyson entered.

“Did you wish to speak to me, my lad?” said he to Dick, whom in his new clothes he did not recognize.

“Yes, sir,” said Dick.  “I owe you some money.”

“Indeed!” said Mr. Greyson, pleasantly; “that’s an agreeable surprise.  I didn’t know but you had come for some.  So you are a debtor of mine, and not a creditor?”

“I b’lieve that’s right,” said Dick, drawing fifteen cents from his pocket, and placing in Mr. Greyson’s hand.

“Fifteen cents!” repeated he, in some surprise.  “How do you happen to be indebted to me in that amount?”

“You gave me a quarter for a-shinin’ your boots, yesterday mornin’, and couldn’t wait for the change.  I meant to have brought it before, but I forgot all about it till this mornin’.”

“It had quite slipped my mind also.  But you don’t look like the boy I employed.  If I remember rightly he wasn’t as well dressed as you.”

“No,” said Dick.  “I was dressed for a party, then, but the clo’es was too well ventilated to be comfortable in cold weather.”

“You’re an honest boy,” said Mr. Greyson.  “Who taught you to be honest?”

“Nobody,” said Dick.  “But it’s mean to cheat and steal.  I’ve always knowed that.”

“Then you’ve got ahead of some of our business men.  Do you read the Bible?”

“No,” said Dick.  “I’ve heard it’s a good book, but I don’t know much about it.”

“You ought to go to some Sunday School.  Would you be willing?”

“Yes,” said Dick, promptly.  “I want to grow up ’spectable.  But I don’t know where to go.”

“Then I’ll tell you.  The church I attend is at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Twenty-first Street.”

“I’ve seen it,” said Dick.

“I have a class in the Sunday School there.  If you’ll come next Sunday, I’ll take you into my class, and do what I can to help you.”

“Thank you,” said Dick, “but p’r’aps you’ll get tired of teaching me.  I’m awful ignorant.”

“No, my lad,” said Mr. Greyson, kindly.  “You evidently have some good principles to start with, as you have shown by your scorn of dishonesty.  I shall hope good things of you in the future.”

“Well, Dick,” said our hero, apostrophizing himself, as he left the office; “you’re gettin’ up in the world.  You’ve got money invested, and are goin’ to attend church, by partic’lar invitation, on Fifth Avenue.  I shouldn’t wonder much if you should find cards, when you get home, from the Mayor, requestin’ the honor of your company to dinner, along with other distinguished guests.”