Adin Dunham and his wife were surprised and dazzled by the brilliant prospects of their nephew.

"Did this Mr. Kirby really agree to pay you twenty-five dollars a month, Dean?" asked the carpenter.

"Yes, uncle, and he asked if it would be satisfactory."

"It seems strange," mused Adin. "Why, when I was your age I was workin' for fifty cents a week and my board."

"I get board, too, Uncle Adin."

"It's a great offer. And you're a stranger to him too."

"Yes; he took me on Squire Bates's recommendation."

"I should have thought he'd have wanted the place for his own boy."

"Brandon would like to leave Waterford, but I don't believe he wants to work. It is all the better for me."

"I don't believe in boys being idle, but there's no call for Brandon Bates to work if he don't want to. The squire's rich enough."

And then the carpenter's brow contracted in perplexity. He couldn't understand why a rich man should take what did not belong to him, and he had never got over the impression made on him on the day of the robbery by the long tusk-like teeth of the masked figure.

"Father," said Mrs. Dunham anxiously, "do you think it's safe for a boy as young as Dean to go out into the world alone? He's only a child."

"I'm almost sixteen, aunt," said Dean mortified.

"But you don't know nothin' of the world."

"Neither do you or I, wife, though we're both risin' sixty. Dean has got to take his chances. I hope this Kirby's a likely man. What does he look like, Dean?"

"Well, I don't fancy his appearance much," Dean admitted. "He is very dark and sallow, and there's something queer about the eyes. But I suppose he can't help his looks."

"Handsome is that handsome does," replied Mrs. Dunham. "I've heard tell that villains is sometimes very scrumptious in appearance."

"I guess he's all right, aunt. He didn't make himself, you know."

"I wish you hadn't got to go to New York alone, Dean. Don't you think Mr. Kirby'd wait a day, and then you could go with him?"

"I want to go alone, aunt. I hope I'm smart enough to find my way."

"We'll trust him, wife," said Adin Dunham. "He means we'll, and if he's keerful he'll come out all right."

At length the morning came for Dean's departure. He bade good-bye to the old folks, and walked proudly to the railroad station with a bundle of clothing under his arm.

Rather to his surprise he found Squire Bates at the little depot, walking up and down on the platform.

"So you're starting, are you, Dean?" said the squire.

"Yes, sir."

"I hope you'll do your duty by your employer."

"I shall try to do so, sir."

"I have indorsed you, and he has taken you on my recommendation."

"I ought to thank you for that, sir."

"I take it for granted that you will verify the good things I have said of you. If you don't—if you throw discredit on me and on your worthy uncle and aunt, why then—" and he paused.

Dean listened to hear how he would end the sentence.

"Then," resumed the squire, "I honestly advise you to stay away, and not return to Waterford."

"I won't come back unless I can come back with a good record," said Dean impetuously.

"A good resolution! Stick to it, my lad."

The train came up with a rush, and Dean got on board He was a little disturbed by the squire's parting words. Why should he harp so much on Dean's acting discreditably?

"It almost seems as if he expected I would," soliloquized Dean. "If I know myself, I know that I am honest, industrious and faithful. Mr. Kirby won't be disappointed in me, unless he is an unreasonable man."

Waterford was about fifty miles from New York, and the journey consumed two hours. Dean was considerably interested in looking out of the window at the towns along the railroad. But besides this, he scanned the faces of the passengers around him.

Just behind him was a boy about his own age, who after a while leaned over and said, "Come back here and sit with me."

Dean was of a social disposition, and needed no second invitation.

His new acquaintance was a pleasant-looking boy of sixteen, with dark hair and dark eyes, and a bright, alert look.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To New York."

"Do you expect to stay there?"

"No, I am going to work for a gentleman whom I am to find at French's Hotel."

"Yes, I know where that is."

"Do you? Then you have the advantage of me. I was never in New York since I was a very little boy."

"Oh, it's easy enough to find it. We shall land at the Grand Central Depot. You can take a Fourth Avenue car in front of it, and it'll carry you right by French's Hotel."

"Is it far?"

"About three miles, I guess."

"That's a good distance."

"It isn't much in the city. I didn't know you had a place. I was going to ask you to join me."

"Why what are you going to do?" Dean asked in some curiosity.

"You won't give me away, will you?"

"What's that?"

"I mean you won't tell my plans to any one?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

"Then I'm going out West," said the boy, nodding impressively.

"You are! Have you got friends there?"

"No, I'm going in for a little excitement. I'm going out West to hunt Indians!" and the speaker eyed Dean to see how he was impressed by the declaration.

"But what good is that going to do you?" asked Dean, perplexed.

"Oh, there'll be no end of excitement. It'll show what I am made of. I shouldn't wonder if some writer would make a story out of my adventures."

"But suppose the Indians should hunt you?" suggested Dean.

"I must take my chance of that," answered the boy loftily. "If there wasn't any risk, there wouldn't be any excitement or glory."

"Are your folks willing you should go?" queried Dean.

"No; they don't know where I am. I left home on the sly."

"Won't they worry about you?"

"Just at first, but I shall write to them when I am far enough away. They'll be proud enough of me, when they read about my exploits. Maybe there'll be a play written about me. When I get home I shouldn't mind going round, playing in it myself. Have you got any money?"

"No, only my fare to New York and a quarter over."

"Then it would be no use for you to go with me. It'll take money to get out West, and to pay for a gun and ammunition. I shall get them at Chicago, I think."

"Have you considerable money with you?" Dean ventured to inquire.

"A little over a hundred dollars. You see I had that much in the Savings Bank. It's presents I've got from different persons in the last five years. I drew it all out a day or two since, and decided to start out in search of glory."

"I don't think you ought to go without letting your folks know about it," said Dean.

"Oh, they would oppose it, of course. They think I'm a baby, but I'm a year older than Daredevil Dick, the Young Hunter of the Rio Grande. I suppose you've read about him?"

"No, I never heard of him."

"I thought everybody had heard of him. I think I'm smart enough to do as much as he did."

Dean learned that his young companion's name was Guy Gladstone, and that his father was born in England, but had come to America at an early age, and was a successful manufacturer. Guy would not tell him where his parents lived.

As their train ran into the depot, Guy said, "I guess I'll go to French's with you and stay one night. I shan't remain in the city any longer for fear my friends will track me."