On the way back from Squire Turner’s, Harry stepped into the village store, as he had one or two small articles to purchase for his mother. This store was kept by Jonas Porter, a man over fifty, in rather poor health. On this account he was obliged to depend considerably upon two young men, whom he employed as assistants. One of them, John Gaylord, was twenty-five years of age, and an efficient salesman. The other, Alfred Harper, was about eighteen, and of course less experienced and valuable. The last was employed partly in driving the store wagon with goods to different parts of the village.

Harry entered the store, and, going up to the counter, said to the proprietor, who was standing behind, “Mr. Porter, I want two pounds of brown sugar.”

“How is your mother?” asked the store-keeper.

“Not very well,” answered Harry.

“No, I suppose not. Your father’s death must be a great blow to her.”

“Yes, sir. It is to all of us.”

“I hope she will soon be feeling better. Health is a blessing we don’t appreciate till we lose it. I have not been feeling very well, lately. In fact, I am not fit to be in the store.”

“Where is Alfred Harper? I have not seen him for a day or two.”

“He has been taken sick, and has gone home. He may be sick some weeks. It is unlucky just now, for I am not fit to be in the store. I wish I could get somebody to take his place for a few weeks.”

Here an idea struck Harry. He was not as old as Alfred Harper, but he was strong, and he thought he might be able to do his work. He decided to suggest it to the store-keeper.

“If you thought I would do,” he said, “I should be glad to come into the store. I have got to go to work now.”

“I am afraid you are too young,” said Mr. Porter, doubtfully. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen, sir.”

“That is young.”

“Yes, sir; but I am pretty stout and strong of my age.”

“You look so. Can you drive a horse?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I have done that a good many times.”

“I don’t know,” said the store-keeper, hesitating a little. “You couldn’t do as much as Alfred; still, you could help a good deal. I have always heard good accounts of you. Mr. Gaylord, how will it do to engage Harry Raymond a few weeks while Alfred is away?”

“I think it would be a good plan, sir,” said John Gaylord, who was familiar with Harry’s good reputation, and had a very favorable opinion of him. “It would lighten your labors a good deal.”

“Very true; and I am really not able to be in the store. Well, Harry,” he proceeded, “I guess you may come.”

“When shall I come?”

“The sooner the better.”

“Then I’ll come this afternoon,” said Harry promptly. “I want to go home and split up a little wood for mother, enough to last her.”

“Very well. About the pay, I will give you six dollars a week.”

Six dollars a week! This seemed to Harry a large sum. His father had only been paid two dollars per day, and therefore received but twice as much. He had hoped, to be sure, to earn more as a peddler but then his expenses would be large, and, after all he might fail, for it was but an experiment. Here there was no risk, but a certain weekly income. Besides,—and this was an important consideration,—it would enable him to continue at home, and he knew that just at this time his mother and little Katy would feel his absence more than at any other time.

Good news always quickens the step. Harry entered the house briskly, and placed the parcels he had brought from the store upon the table.

“Here are the sugar and butter, mother,” he said. “Now I’ll go out and split you some wood, for I’ve got to go to work this afternoon.”

“What kind of work?” asked Mrs. Raymond, looking up.

“Alfred Harper is sick, and so is Mr. Porter. So he has engaged me to take Alfred’s place for the present, at a salary of six dollars a week. I think that’s pretty lucky.”

“Then you won’t have to leave home,” said his mother, brightening up for the first time. “I was so afraid you would have to, and that would make it very lonely for Katy and me.”

“No, I shall be at home, only you won’t see much of me, for I’ve got to go to the store early, and I suppose I shall get home late.”

“At any rate, you won’t be away from Vernon. I don’t think I could bear to part from you just now.”

“Did you call and see Squire Turner, Harry?” asked Katy.

“Oh, yes; I almost forgot to tell you. He has taken the paper, and is going to write to a lawyer in Milwaukie about it.”

“Does he think it is worth anything?”

“He doesn’t give much hope, it’s so many years ago; so we won’t count upon it. I asked him about letting me have a hundred dollars to start in business with, and he said he would let me know to-morrow. I didn’t know then that I could get a place with Mr. Porter.”

“I would rather have you with Mr. Porter.”

“Yes, I would rather stay there for the present. But you must remember that it won’t last but a few weeks. After that I may have to do as I proposed.”

Harry went out, and labored manfully at the wood-pile for a couple of hours. Then he got the basket and carried in considerable and piled it up in the kitchen, so that his mother might not have the trouble of going out to get it.

Meanwhile Squire Turner was writing a letter to a Mr. Robinson, a Milwaukie lawyer, whom he knew. He stated the matter fully, giving his correspondent, however, the idea that the warrant had come into his own possession. In fact, he had made up his mind, in case the paper should be worth anything, to turn it to his own benefit, by hook or by crook. He was a rich man already, to be sure; but he was not contented with what he had, nor was he likely to be. He was, as I have already stated, a grasping, avaricious man, and as long as money went into his pocket he cared very little that it was at the expense of the widow and orphan. He did not build any very high hopes on the warrant. Still he was not a man to let a chance slip by.

In the course of a fortnight he received an answer to his letter. As it is of some importance, I will transcribe it here:

“Milwaukie, Wis., May 27, 18—.

“Mr. Turner,—Dear sir: yours of the 21st, asking information as to the probable value of a certain land warrant in your possession, has come to hand. It appears that the land was located, though the owner never appeared to take possession of it. In consequence it has fallen into the hands of others. The tract in question is a valuable one, being situated only a few miles out of Milwaukie, and has upon it several valuable buildings. My own opinion is, that if the matter is followed up, though you might not be able to get possession without a protracted lawsuit, so much value being involved, the present holders would be willing to pay a considerable sum by way of compromise. It might be worth while for you to come on, and see about the matter yourself. I will assist you to the best of my ability.

“Yours respectfully,

“Francis Robinson.”