Noel Brooke and Gerald remained at the Lindell Hotel beyond the time originally fixed, as the former found an English friend established in a prosperous business on Olive Street. Gilbert Sandford was a man of forty-five, a pleasant, genial, man, who lived in a fine house in the upper portion of the city. He had a wife and three attractive children.

“Come and take dinner with me next Sunday, Noel,” he said in a hospitable manner.

“I shall be glad to do so if you will let me bring my friend also.”

“By all means! Any friend of yours is welcome. Did he accompany you from England?”

“No. It is a young American—a boy of sixteen—whom I met in Colorado. We have been together three or four months now, and I have become very much attached to him.”

“Bring him along by all means. My children will enjoy his company.”

“By the way, how old is your oldest child?”

“Edward is fourteen, only two years younger than your friend. The other two are girls. What is your friend’s name?”

“Gerald Lane.”

“A good name. Is he fond of children?”

“Yes. In our travels he has frequently become acquainted with children, and has always made himself a favorite with them.”

The next Sunday found Gerald and his employer dinner guests at the handsome residence of Mr. Sandford. Before he left, Gerald had made himself an established favorite with the entire Sandford family. The merchant was particularly gracious to him. It was not long before this partiality was to turn to his advantage.

Three weeks later Mr. Brooke received a letter from England which he read with an expression of pain.

“Gerald,” he said, “this letter comes from my sister. My father is seriously ill, and I shall be obliged to return to England at once.”

“I am very sorry,” said Gerald with sincere sympathy.

“One regret I have is, that it will compel us to separate for a time at least.”

“I feared so, Mr. Brooke. I shall feel quite lost without you. I have no relatives, and it will leave me alone in the world.”

“I would invite you to go to England with me if it were not a case of sickness.”

“I should not expect it, Mr. Brooke. Besides, I am an American boy, and I have my living to earn in America.”

“That gives me an idea. Remain here, please, till I return from Mr. Sandford’s office. I must go there and acquaint him with my recall.”

An hour later he returned to the hotel.

“I have engaged my passage from New York by next Saturday’s steamer,” he said. “I shall leave St. Louis to-morrow morning.”

“Then I shall have to form my plans,” said Gerald.

“They are formed already. How would you like to go into the employ of Mr. Sandford?”

“I would like nothing better.”

“He has a place provided for you. You will remain in the store here for a short time, and then he will send you off on a special mission.”

Gerald brightened up.

“I must be indebted to you for this, Mr. Brooke?” he said.

“Partly, but partly also to the pleasant impression which you made on the whole family. You don’t ask what salary you are to receive?”

“If it will pay my board with a little over I shall be satisfied.”

“It won’t pay for your board at this hotel.”

“I should not expect it. I will seek a fair boarding-house. Probably I can get board for six or seven dollars a week?”

“I should think so. Your salary will be fifteen dollars a week.”

“But does Mr. Sandford know that I have no business experience?”

“Yes, he knows it, but he thinks you have qualities that will enable you to make a success.”

After hurried preparations Mr. Brooke left St. Louis, and the same day Gerald moved to a plain, but cheerful boarding-house not far from the store where he was to be employed.

He was at first occupied as stock clerk, and soon familiarized himself with his duties. Three months later he had a summons from Mr. Sandford, who received him in his office. There were about a hundred clerks in the establishment, who got their orders in general from the heads of the departments, and seldom were admitted to interviews with their employer.

Gerald feared that he might have made some mistake and was to receive a reprimand, but the pleasant expression on Mr. Sandford’s face relieved him from apprehension at once.

“Sit down, Gerald,” said the merchant with a wave of the hand.

“Thank you, sir.”

“How long have you been in my employ?”

“Three months to-day, sir.”

“You are stock clerk?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you learned something about the stock?”

“Yes, sir, I think so.”

“Mr. Hall”—this was the superintendent—“tells me that your services are intelligently rendered and very satisfactory.”

“I am very glad that he is satisfied with me,” said Gerald earnestly. “I have done my best.”

“And your best seems to be very good. How would you like to travel for the house?”

Gerald knew that the position of drummer was courted by all the resident clerks, and was considered a distinct promotion.

“I should like it very much, sir, but do you think I am old enough?”

“You certainly are unusually young for such a position, and this, of course, occurred to me, but you have had some experience in traveling, though not on business, with our friend, Mr. Brooke.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And this experience will be of service to you. How old are you?”

“Nearly seventeen.”

“I have never employed a drummer under twenty, but I am nevertheless inclined to give you a trial.”

“I will do my best for you and the house.”

“Then you will have a fair chance of succeeding. You may go and ask Mr. Hall for instructions—I have spoken with him on the subject—and I presume he will arrange to have you start on Monday next.”

Mr. Sandford bowed, and Gerald understood that the interview was ended.

Two weeks later Gerald found himself in Kansas City. He had had but a fortnight’s experience as a drummer, but he had met with success exceeding his anticipations. Though his youth was against him, and he often found it difficult to persuade dealers that he was really an authorized agent of a merchant so well known as Gilbert Sandford of St. Louis, five minutes’ conversation was generally sufficient to show that he thoroughly understood his business.

His stay in Kansas City was drawing to a close. He was a guest of the Coates House, one of the representative hotels of the West, when he had occasion to enter a periodical store near the hotel. It was the one already known to us as kept by Mrs. Ferguson.

Victor Wentworth stood behind the counter and waited upon Gerald. But he was no longer the bright and healthy boy of a few weeks back. He had contracted malaria, and his face was pallid. Gerald could not but notice the boy’s sick condition.

“You are not well,” he said.

“No,” answered Victor, shivering. “I don’t know what is the matter with me.”

“How long have you been sick?” inquired Gerald.

“I was taken about a week since.”

“You ought to be at home and in bed.”

“I wish I could afford to rest,” said Victor despondently; “but I cannot. I depend on my weekly wages.”

“Have you a home in Kansas City?”

“No; I have no relatives in this place.”

“Have you no friends who would help you while you were sick?”

Victor hesitated a moment.

“No,” he answered slowly.

“Are you an orphan?”

“No; I have a father living.”

“Ah! I understand. He is poor.”

“No,” answered Victor, shaking his head. “He is not poor. He is quite rich.”

“Then how does it happen that you do not write to him and ask him to help you?”

“Because he is angry with me. He is a stern man, and I offended him very much some time since,” and Victor flushed as he made the confession.

“How did you offend him? You could not have done anything very bad, I am sure.”

“He had placed me at a boarding-school and I ran away. I was very foolish, and I have repented it more than once, but he is very angry with me and won’t forgive me.”

The story seemed familiar to Gerald. Surely he had heard it before.

“Tell me,” he asked abruptly, “are you the son of Bradley Wentworth of Seneca, Illinois?”

“Yes; do you know him? Is he a friend of yours?” asked Victor in breathless astonishment.

“I knew him, but he is not a friend of mine.”

“Ah! I hoped he was,” sighed Victor, his face falling.

“But all the same I am going to help you.”

Gerald had a brief conversation with Mrs. Ferguson and arranged with her to find a comfortable home for Victor, where he could rest and receive medical attendance, and deposited a sum of money with her to defray his expenses.

“How kind you are!” said Victor gratefully. “I was very much discouraged when you came in. I didn’t know what was to become of me.”

“I shall be back again in Kansas City in four weeks,” said Gerald. “Till then you will be taken care of. Keep up your spirits and all will turn out well.”

“How strange,” he thought, “that I should help the son as my father helped his father. I like the boy. I am sure he will not prove ungrateful.”