“I don’t mean to!” said Ebenezer, grimly.

“Going away as he has done, he will find it necessary to support himself, and will hardly have courage to send to you for assistance.”

“Let him try it!” said Ebenezer, his eyes snapping.

“He may, therefore, being thrown upon his own resources, be compelled to work hard, and that will probably be the best thing that can happen to him.”

“I hope he will!  I hope he will!” said the storekeeper.  “He may find out after a while that he had an easy time at home, and was better paid than he will be among strangers.  I won’t pay any more of his debts.  I’ll publish a notice saying that I have given him his time, and won’t pay any more debts of his contracting.  He might run into debt enough to ruin me, between now and the time he becomes of age.”

George Melville considered that the storekeeper was justified in taking this step, and said so.

While they were on the train, Ebenezer got measurably reconciled to his loss, and his busy brain began to calculate how much money he would save by ceasing to be responsible for Eben’s expenses of living and prospective debts.  Without this drawback, he knew he would grow richer every year.  He knew also that notwithstanding the sum it had just cost him, he would be better off at the end of the year than the beginning, and to a man of his character this was perhaps the best form of consolation that he could have.

Suddenly it occurred to Mr. Graham that he should need a clerk in place of his son.

“Now that Eben has gone, Herbert,” he said, “I am ready to take you back.”

This was a surprise, for Herbert had not thought of the effect upon his own business prospects.

“I have got a place, thank you, Mr. Graham,” he said.

“You don’t call trampin’ round huntin’ and fishin’ work, do you?” said Ebenezer.

“It is very agreeable work, sir.”

“But it stands to reason that you can’t earn much that way.  I wouldn’t give you twenty-five cents a week for such doings.”

“Are you willing to pay me more than Mr. Melville does?” asked Herbert, demurely, smiling to himself.

“How much does he pay you now?” asked Ebenezer, cautiously.

“Six dollars a week.”

“Six dollars a week!” repeated the storekeeper, in incredulous amazement.  “Sho! you’re joking!”

“You can ask Mr. Melville, sir.”

Ebenezer regarded George Melville with an inquiring look.

“Yes, I pay Herbert six dollars a week,” said he, smiling.

“Well, I never!” ejaculated Ebenezer.  “That’s the strangest thing I ever heard.  How in the name of conscience can a boy earn so much money trampin’ round?”

“Perhaps it would not be worth as much to anyone else,” said Melville, “but Herbert suits me, and I need cheerful company.”

“You ain’t goin’ to keep him long at that figger, be you, Mr. Melville?” asked Mr. Graham, bluntly.