“As for me,” said Dick, “I expect by that time to lay up a colossal fortun’ out of shines, and live in princely style on the Avenoo.”

But one morning, Fosdick, straying into French’s Hotel, discovered the following advertisement in the columns of “The Herald,”—­

“Wanted—­A smart, capable boy to run errands, and make himself generally useful in a hat and cap store.  Salary three dollars a week at first.  Inquire at No. —­ Broadway, after ten o’clock, A.M.”

He determined to make application, and, as the City Hall clock just then struck the hour indicated, lost no time in proceeding to the store, which was only a few blocks distant from the Astor House.  It was easy to find the store, as from a dozen to twenty boys were already assembled in front of it.  They surveyed each other askance, feeling that they were rivals, and mentally calculating each other’s chances.

“There isn’t much chance for me,” said Fosdick to Dick, who had accompanied him.  “Look at all these boys.  Most of them have good homes, I suppose, and good recommendations, while I have nobody to refer to.”

“Go ahead,” said Dick.  “Your chance is as good as anybody’s.”

While this was passing between Dick and his companion, one of the boys, a rather supercilious-looking young gentleman, genteelly dressed, and evidently having a very high opinion of his dress and himself turned suddenly to Dick, and remarked,—­

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Oh, have you?” said Dick, whirling round; “then p’r’aps you’d like to see me behind.”

At this unexpected answer all the boys burst into a laugh with the exception of the questioner, who, evidently, considered that Dick had been disrespectful.

“I’ve seen you somewhere,” he said, in a surly tone, correcting himself.

“Most likely you have,” said Dick.  “That’s where I generally keep myself.”

There was another laugh at the expense of Roswell Crawford, for that was the name of the young aristocrat.  But he had his revenge ready.  No boy relishes being an object of ridicule, and it was with a feeling of satisfaction that he retorted,—­

“I know you for all your impudence.  You’re nothing but a boot-black.”

This information took the boys who were standing around by surprise, for Dick was well-dressed, and had none of the implements of his profession with him.

“S’pose I be,” said Dick.  “Have you got any objection?”

“Not at all,” said Roswell, curling his lip; “only you’d better stick to blacking boots, and not try to get into a store.”

“Thank you for your kind advice,” said Dick.  “Is it gratooitous, or do you expect to be paid for it?”

“You’re an impudent fellow.”

“That’s a very cheerin’ reflection,” said Dick, good-naturedly.

“Do you expect to get this place when there’s gentlemen’s sons applying for it?  A boot-black in a store!  That would be a good joke.”