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forget, Jerry,” said Paul, coldly, “that I must have my meals. I can’t live without eating.”

      “You eat too much, Paul, I’ve long thought so. It’s hurtful to eat too much. It’s – it’s bad for the health.”

      “I’ll take the risk,” said Paul, with a short laugh. “I am not afraid of dying of gout, Jerry, with my present bill of fare.”

      “If you wouldn’t mind my going out a few hours every day, and asking kind gentlemen to help me, Paul, we – we could get along better.”

      “I won’t hear of it, Jerry,” said Paul, sternly. “If I hear of your going out to beg I will leave you and go off and live by myself. Then there will be no two dollars and a half coming to you every week.”

      “No, no, don’t leave me, Paul,” said Jerry, thoroughly alarmed by this threat. “I won’t go out if you don’t want me to, though it’s very, very foolish to stay in, when there are so many kind gentlemen and ladies ready to give money to old Jerry.”

      “Besides,” added Paul, “if you go out and stand in the street, your son will sooner or later find you out, and make trouble for you.”

      “So he will, so he will,” chimed in the miser, with the old look of alarm on his face. “You are right, Paul, you are right. I must put it off. I – I wish he would go away somewhere – to – to California, or some place a great way off.”

      Paul saw that he had produced the effect he intended upon the old man’s mind, and went out at once to look for a new room. He finally found one some half mile farther up town, in Ludlow Street – a little below Grand.

      The room was better furnished than the one in which he and Jerry had lived for some years. There was a cheap carpet on the floor, a bed in one corner, and a shabby but comfortable lounge, on which Paul himself proposed to sleep. The rent was two dollars a month more than they had been accustomed to pay, but Paul concluded to say nothing of this to the old man, but quietly to pay it out of his own pocket. It would be but fifty cents a week, and he thought he could make that extra sum in some way. He was beginning to be more fastidious about his accommodations, now that he had seen how people lived uptown.

      In fact, Paul was becoming ambitious. It was a very proper ambition, too. He had lived long enough in a squalid, miserable room, and now he meant to be better provided for.

      “I am getting older,” he said to himself. “I ought to earn more money. I am sure I can somehow. I will keep my eyes open and see what I can find.”

      Paul resolved to buy a bureau, if he could get one cheap, for at present he had absolutely no place in which to keep his small stock of clothing. He did not know exactly where the money was coming from, but he was hopeful, and had faith in himself. He was not waiting for something to turn up, as many lazy boys do, but he meant himself to turn up something.

      Having concluded a bargain for the room, paying a dollar down, and promising to pay a further sum on Saturday night when he received his weekly pay, he returned to old Jerry.

      “Well, Jerry,” he said cheerfully, “I’ve found a room.”

      “Where is it, Paul?”

      “In Ludlow Street.”

      “Then let us go – at once. James might change his mind, and come round tonight. I don’t want to see him. He is a bold, bad man.”

      Paul suggested that they had better not leave word with the neighbors where they were going, as this might furnish a clew to James Barclay, and put him on his father’s track.

      Old Jerry eagerly assented to this, and the two started for their new home. They had very little to carry – at any rate, this was the case with the miser, and Paul’s wardrobe was not too extensive for him to carry it all with him at once.

      When Jerry saw the room that Paul had engaged he was alarmed.

      “This – this is too fine for us, Paul,” he said. “We can’t afford to pay for it. How much is the rent?”

      “Six dollars a month,” answered Paul.

      “We shall be ruined!” ejaculated Jerry, turning pale.

      “It is two dollars more than we paid in the old place,” said Paul, “but it won’t come out of you. I will make a new arrangement with you – I will pay the entire rent, and give you a dollar and a half a week.”

      “Make it two dollars, Paul,” said Jerry, in a coaxing tone.

      “What are you thinking of? Do you want to starve me?” demanded Paul, sternly.

      “I – I am so poor, Paul,” whined the miser.

      “So am I,” answered Paul, “but I must keep enough to pay for my meals.”

      Jerry saw that it would be useless to contest the point further, and settled himself in his new quarters, rather enjoying the improvement, but groaning inwardly over Paul’s extravagance. Paul threw himself on the lounge, after taking off his coat and vest, and, covering himself with a blanket, was soon sound asleep.

      CHAPTER IX

      PAUL BECOMES A CAPITALIST

      Paul did not fail to meet the appointment at Mr. Cunningham’s office the next morning. He had no difficulty in getting away, for it was understood at the office that he was wanted to run an errand and his time would be paid for.

      “You seem to be in with the Cunninghams, Number 91,” said the superintendent.

      “Yes, sir, they are very kind to me,” answered Paul.

      “That is well. We like to have boys on good terms with customers. It increases the business of the office.”

      Mr. Cunningham was talking with another gentleman when Paul entered his office.

      “Sit down, Paul,” he said in a friendly tone, indicating a chair. “I shall soon be at leisure, and then I will attend to you.”

      “Thank you, sir,” said the telegraph boy.

      He had to wait about ten minutes. Then Mr. Cunningham’s visitor left him, and he turned to Paul.

      “How is business this morning?” he asked, with a smile.

      “This is my first call, sir.”

      “Oh, well, no doubt you will have plenty before the day is over.”

      “Yes, sir, I am engaged for the afternoon.”

      “Indeed! And in what way?”

      “I am to go shopping with a lady.”

      “Can’t she go by herself there?”

      “Yes, sir, I suppose so, but she wants me to carry her bundles.”

      “Retail merchants generally send them home.”

      “Yes, sir, but she once had one miscarry, and now she prefers to take a boy with her.”

      “How do you like that business?” asked Mr. Cunningham.

      “It is rather tiresome,” answered Paul, “as the lady is hard to suit and spends a good deal of time in each store. However, there is one thing that reconciles me to it.”

      “What is that?”

      “She is liberal, and always gives me something for myself.”

      “That is very considerate of her. I was speaking of that to my wife this morning.”

      “Of what, sir?” inquired Paul.

      “We both decided that you were entitled to a present for your brave defense of the house.”

      Now I suppose it would have been the proper thing for Paul to protest against receiving any present, but I am obliged to record the fact that he had no objection to having his services acknowledged in that way.

      “I only did my duty, sir,” he said, modestly.

      “Very true, but that is no reason why I should not show my appreciation of

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