“I apprehend that the world judges differently,” said Allan Roscoe.  “Since you have taken your destiny into your own hands, you will excuse me for asking how you intend to earn your living?”

“I hope to get a mercantile position,” answered Hector.

“Take my advice,” said Guy, with a derisive smile, “and buy yourself a blacking box and brush.  I am told bootblacks make a good deal of money.”

“Hush, Guy!” said his father.  “Do not insult Hector.”

But Hector concerned himself but little with any slight received from Guy Roscoe.  His words, however, recalled his thoughts to the boy he had so recently met, Larry Deane, and he resolved to see if he could not help him by an appeal to Allan Roscoe.

“Mr. Roscoe,” said he, quickly, “I nearly forgot something I want very much to say to you.”

“What is it?” asked his guardian, suspiciously.  It occurred to him that Hector wished to borrow some money, and he was considering how little he could decently give him.

“I hear you have discharged Reuben Deane from his position?”

“How did you hear it?”

“From his son, Larry.”

“Where did you see Larry?” asked Allan, in some curiosity.

“He has been driven to take up that employment which Guy so kindly recommended to me.”

“Larry Deane a bootblack!  That’s a good one!” exclaimed Guy, with evident relish.

“I don’t think so,” said Hector.  “The poor boy is picking a poor living, and sending home what he can to his father, who cannot get new employment.  Mr. Roscoe, why did you discharge him?”

“I can answer that question, though it’s none of your business all the same,” volunteered Guy.  “The boy Larry was impudent to me, and his father took his part.”

“Mr. Roscoe,” said Hector, “Reuben Deane was in my father’s employ before I was born.  Larry and I used to play together when we were little boys, and since when we were older.”

“A bootblack is a nice playmate,” said Guy, with his usual sneer.

“He was not a bootblack then,” retorted Hector, “nor would he be now but for your mean spite.  Mr. Roscoe, as I happen to know, my father always valued the services of Reuben Deane, and I ask, in his name, that you give him back his place.”

“My brother may have been deceived in him,” said Allan Roscoe, coldly, emphasizing the first two words, in order to remind Hector that he was no longer to consider him as his father; “but I cannot promise to adopt all his views and protege’s.  I have displaced Deane and substituted for him a gardener with whom I am better pleased.”

“Have you no sympathy for the poverty and distress of a man who has served our family faithfully for so many years?” asked Hector, half indignantly.

“My father is competent to manage his own affairs,” said Guy, offensively.

“You don’t appear to think so, or you would not answer for him,” retorted Hector.