“Not Master Hector.”

“Then Hector, if you don’t mind.”

“I shall be here for the present—­I don’t know how long.”

“Then let me black your boots for nothing every time you come by—­I want to do something for you.”

“Thank you, Larry; but I don’t like to have a friend perform such a service.  Remember me to your father when you write.”

“I wish I could do something for Larry,” said Hector, to himself, as he walked away.  “As it is, I stand in need of help myself.”

He was to make a friend that day under rather unusual circumstances.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Two more acquaintances.

Hector continued his walk downtown.  Despite the crowds of persons who thronged the sidewalks, he did not anticipate meeting anyone else that he knew.  But he was destined to another surprise.  On the corner of Murray Street he saw two persons advancing toward him, the last, perhaps, that he expected to see.  Not to keep the reader in suspense, it was Allan Roscoe and his son, Guy.

Guy was the first to recognize Hector.  Of course, he, too, was surprised.

“Why, there’s Hector!” he exclaimed, directing his father’s attention to our hero.

Allan Roscoe looked up quickly.  It is hard to tell whether he felt glad or the reverse at this meeting with the boy whom he called his ward.

An instant later Hector recognized Guy and his father.

“How do you do, Mr. Roscoe?” he said, politely.

“Very well.  When did you reach New York?”

“On Saturday.”

It should have been explained that Hector had spent Sunday quietly with Mr. Ross and Walter, and that this was Monday.

“Ahem!  I was very much surprised at your leaving the institute,” said Mr. Roscoe.

“I explained to you in my letter why I proposed to leave it,” Hector answered, coldly.

“I did not think your reason sufficient.”

“As Mr. Smith saw fit to bring a base charge against me, and persisted in it, even after he must have been convinced that his nephew was guilty, I was unwilling to remain under his charge any longer.”

“The circumstances were against you,” said Mr. Roscoe.

“You might have known me better than that, Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, proudly.  “Yet you condemned me unheard.”

“Of course, I am very glad that the charge is unfounded,” said Mr. Roscoe, awkwardly.

“Where there is smoke there is generally fire,” said Guy, spitefully.

“I understand you, Guy,” said Hector, half turning to look at the boy who had usurped his place.  “I hope you won’t think it impolite if I say that I care nothing whatever for your opinion.”

“You put on as many airs as ever,” sneered Guy.  “I should think you would be a little more humble in your changed position.”

“I have not changed, even if my position has,” answered Hector.  “Money is nothing to be proud of.”