“I can’t guess.”

“Five dollars a week, and have to find myself,” answered Eben, mournfully.  “What would my fashionable friends in Boston say if they could see me?”

“I wouldn’t mind what they said as long as you are getting an honest living.”

“How do you happen to be out here?” asked Eben.

His story was told in a few words.

“You are always in luck!” said Eben, enviously.  “I wish I had your chance.  Is Mr. Melville very rich?”

“He is rich; but I don’t know how rich.”

“Do you think he’d lend me money enough to get home?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you ask him?”

“I will tell him that you made the request, Eben,” answered Herbert, cautiously.  “Have you applied to your father?”

“To the old man?  Yes.  He hasn’t any more heart than a grindstone,” said Eben, bitterly.  “What do you think he wrote me?”

“He refused, I suppose.”

“Here is his letter,” said Eben, drawing from his pocket a greasy half sheet of note paper.  “See what he has to say to his only son.”

This was the letter: 

“Eben Graham:  I have received your letter, and am not surprised to hear that you are in trouble.  ’As a man sows, so also shall he reap.’  A young man who will rob his father of his hard earnings is capable of anything.  You have done what you could to ruin me, and deserve what you have got.  You want me to send you money to come home, and continue your wicked work—­I shall not do it.  I wash my hands of you; I have already given notice, through the country paper that I have given you your time, and shall pay no more debts of your contracting.

“I am glad to hear that you are engaged in an honest employment.  It is better than I expected.  I would not have been surprised if I had heard that you were in jail.  My advice to you is to stay where you are and make yourself useful to your employer.  He may in time raise your wages.  Five years hence, if you have turned over a new leaf and led an honest life, I may give you a place in my store.  At present, I would rather leave you where you are.

“Ebenezer Graham.”

“What do you say to that?  Isn’t that rather rough on an only son, eh?” said Eben.

It occurred to Herbert that Eben hardly deserved very liberal treatment from his father, notwithstanding he was an only son.

“Oh, the old man is awfully mean and close-fisted,” said Eben.  “He cares more for money than for anything else.  By the way, how does Melville treat you?”

“Mr. Melville,” said Herbert, emphasizing the Mr., “is always kind and considerate.”

“Pays you well, eh?”

“He pays me more than I could get anywhere else.”

“Pays all your hotel and traveling expenses, eh?”

“Of course.”

“And a good salary besides?”

“Yes.”

“Herbert,” said Eben, suddenly, “I want you to do me a favor.”