"All right," said Sam.

 

"Be particularly careful, as the deposit is unusually large."

 

"Oh, yes, I'll be careful."

 

Sam received the checks and drafts, amounting to several thousand dollars, and started for the Fourth National Bank, on Nassau Street. When he had accomplished¹ a part of the distance, he met an old acquaintance, whom he had known in his boot-blacking days.

 

"How are you, Sam?" said Tim Brady. "I haven't seen you for a long time."

 

"I'm all right, Tim. I haven't seen you, either. Where have you been?"

 

"To Boston," answered Tim, briefly².

 

"You have!" exclaimed Sam, interested. "How did you like it?"

 

"I don't like it as well as York."

 

"Why not? Ain't it a nice place?"

 

"'Tisn't half as big as York. Besides, there ain't half so much fun. There ain't no Old Bowery there, nor Tony Pastor's. I didn't know what to do with myself nights."

 

"What were you doing? Did you black boots?"

 

"No," answered Tim. "I was in a store on Dock Square."

 

"What sort of a store?"

 

"Clothing store."

 

"How did you get the place?"

 

"It is kept by a cousin of the old woman. He wrote that he'd take me if I'd come on. So I went; but I didn't like it."

 

"Where did you live?"

 

"With him. He had a house in Chelsea, just over the river, like Brooklyn is. I got my board and a dollar a week."

 

"That ain't much," said Sam.

 

"No, I should say not. I had to pay my way over the ferry out of it, too. It didn't leave me no money for cigars nor nothing."

 

"How long were you there?"

 

"About three months. I would not have stayed so long, only I couldn't get money to get back."

 

"You got it at last; or did you walk back?"

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