Part 10 (2/2)

”Mr. Bowen must be a rich man,” thought Frank, as he paused on the steps of a fine brown-stone mansion, corresponding to the number on his card.

He rang the bell, and asked, ”Is Mr. Bowen at home?”

”Yes, but he is in his chamber. I don't think he will see you.”

”I think he will,” said Frank, who thought the servant was taking too much upon herself, ”as I come by his appointment.”

”I suppose you can come into the hall,” said the servant, reluctantly.

”Is your business important?”

”You may tell him that the boy he sent for his umbrella has brought it.

He was afraid he had lost it.”

”He sets great store by that umbrella,” said the girl, in a different tone. ”I'll go and tell him.”

Mr. Bowen came downstairs almost immediately. There was a look of extreme gratification upon his face.

”Bless my soul, how quick you were!” he exclaimed. ”Why, I've only been home a few minutes. Did you find the umbrella at Mr. Peckham's office?”

”Yes, sir; it had been found, and taken care of.”

”Did Peckham say anything?”

”He said you were probably afraid to trust it with him over night, but he smiled when he said it.”

”Peckham will have his joke, but he is an excellent man. My boy, I am much indebted to you.”

”I was very glad to do the errand, sir,” said Frank.

”I think you said you were poor,” said the old man, thoughtfully.

”Yes, sir. When I met you I hadn't a cent in the world.”

”Haven't you any way to make a living?”

”Yes, sir. I could sell papers if I had enough money to set me up in business.”

”Does it require a large capital?”

”Oh, no, sir,” said Frank, smiling, ”unless you consider fifty cents a large sum.”

”Fifty cents!” repeated the old gentleman, in surprise. ”You don't mean to say that this small sum would set you up in business?”

”Yes, sir; I could buy a small stock of papers, and buy more with what I received for them.”

”To be sure. I didn't think of that.”

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