“This letter has helped me to a decision.”

Hector regarded him with surprise.  What could the letter have to do with him?

“Have you any objection to going out to California by the next steamer?” asked Mr. New-man.

“No, sir,” answered Hector, with animation “Am I to go alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

CHAPTER XXXII.

A wayward youth.

It is needless to say that Hector was very much surprised, not to say startled, at this sudden proposal.  What could Mr. Newman possibly want him to go to California for?  If on business, how did it happen that he trusted a mere boy with so responsible a mission?

The explanation came soon.

“No doubt, you are surprised,” said the merchant, “at the proposal I have made you.  I am not prepared myself to say that I am acting with good judgment.  In making it, I have obeyed a sudden impulse, which is not always prudent.  Yet, in more than one instance, I have found advantage in obeying such an impulse.  But to my explanation.  By the way, let me first ask you two or three questions.  Have you any taste for any kind of liquor?”

“No, sir,” answered Hector, promptly.

“Even if you had, do you think you would have self-control enough to avoid entering saloons and gratifying your tastes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is well.  Do you play pool?”

“No, sir,” answered Hector, wondering whither all these questions tended.

“I ask because playing pool in public rooms paves the way for intemperance, as bars are generally connected with such establishments.”

“I don’t even know how to play pool, sir,” said Hector.

“Do you ever bet or gamble?” continued the merchant.

“No, sir.”

“You will understand why I ask all these questions when I tell you that I have a nephew now nineteen years of age, who does all these things.  He is not only my nephew, but my ward.  I have a moderate sum of money in my charge which belongs to him—­enough, if he were a young man of correct habits, to buy him an interest in a respectable business.  That use I had proposed to make of it when he reached twenty-one, or rather, to recommend to him, but for his yielding to temptation in more than one form, and, finally, running away from my protection.”

“Where is he now, sir?”

“In California.  Three months since he disappeared, and it was some weeks before I learned where he had gone.  As I do not intend to conceal anything from you, I must tell you that he carried with him five hundred dollars purloined from my desk.  This grieved me most of all.  I wrote out to a mercantile friend in San Francisco, who knows the boy by sight, to hunt him up, and see if he could do anything for him.  He writes me—­this is the letter I hold in my hand—­that he has seen Gregory, and expostulated with him, but apparently without