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another compliment," said Tom, taking off his hat and bowing with mock politeness.

      "Hallo, Tom!"

      Tom turned to meet the smile of a District Telegraph messenger, who was crossing the park to Broadway.

      "How's yourself, Mark?" he said. "I'd offer to shake hands, but I've been doin' a little business for these gentlemen, and my gloves ain't handy."

      No. 79, following the direction of Tom's nod, glanced at Mr. Talbot and Edgar, and instantly a look of surprise came over his face.

      "Why, Uncle Solon, is that you?" he exclaimed.

      Solon Talbot looked embarrassed, and seemed in doubt whether to acknowledge his relationship to the humble telegraph boy.

      "Are you Mark Mason?" he asked.

      "Yes; don't you know me?"

      "I haven't seen you for two years, you know."

      "And this is Edgar!" continued the telegraph boy. "You've grown so I would hardly know you."

      "I hope you are well," said Edgar coldly.

      "Thank you. Uncle Solon, where are you staying?"

      "Ahem! I am stopping up town."

      "Shall you be in the city long?"

      "I don't think so."

      "Mother would like very much to see you. She would like to ask about grandfather's estate."

      "Ah – um – yes! Where do you live?"

      "No. 174 St. Mark's Place, near First Avenue."

      "We'll call if we can. Edgar, we'll have to hurry away."

      As they walked toward the other side of the park at a brisk pace, Tom asked: "You don't mean to say that's your uncle, Mark?"

      "Yes; that is, he married my mother's sister."

      "And that young swell is your cousin?"

      "Yes."

      "He is rich, isn't he?"

      "I suppose so."

      "Why don't he do something for you and your mother?"

      "He was always a very selfish man. But we don't ask any favors – mother and I don't. All we ask is justice."

      "What do you mean by that?"

      "My grandfather, that is mother's father and Mrs. Talbot's, died two years ago, and Uncle Solon was the administrator. We supposed he had left a good deal of money, but all we have received from his estate is seventy-five dollars."

      "Do you think the old feller's been playin' any game on you?"

      "I don't know what to think."

      "I tell you what, Mark, he deserves a good lickin' if he's cheated you, and I'd like to give it to him."

      "Well, Tom, I must be going. I can't stop talking here, or I'll get into trouble at the office."

      CHAPTER II.

      WHERE MARK LIVED

      There is a large tenement house on St. Mark's Place, between Third Avenue and Avenue A. The suites of rooms consist, as is the general New York custom in tenement houses, of one square apartment used as kitchen, sitting room and parlor combined, and two small bedrooms opening out of it.

      It was in an apartment of this kind on the third floor back, that Mark Mason's mother and little sister Edith lived. It was a humble home, and plainly furnished, but a few books and pictures saved from the wreck of their former prosperity, gave the rooms an air of refinement not to be found in those of their neighbors.

      Mrs. Mason was setting the table for supper and Edith was studying a lesson in geography when the door opened and Mark entered.

      His mother greeted him with a pleasant smile.

      "You are through early, Mark," she said.

      "Yes, mother. I was let off earlier than usual, as there was an errand up this way that fortunately took very little time."

      "I'm glad you've come home, Mark," said Edith, "I want you to help me in my map questions."

      "All right, Edie, but you will have to wait till after supper. I've got something to tell mother."

      "What is it, Mark?"

      "I saw two old acquaintances of ours from Syracuse, this forenoon."

      "Who were they?" asked Mrs. Mason eagerly.

      "Uncle Solon and Edgar."

      "Is it possible? Where did you see them?"

      "In City Hall Park. Edgar had just been having his boots blacked by Tom Trotter."

      "Did you speak to them?"

      "Yes."

      "How did they appear?"

      "Well, they didn't fall on my neck and embrace me," answered Mark with a smile. "In fact they seemed very cool."

      "And yet Solon Talbot is my brother-in-law, the husband of my only sister."

      "And Edgar is my own cousin. He's an awful snob, mother, and he looks as like his father as one pea looks like another."

      "Then he is not very handsome. I wish I could see them. Did you invite them to call?"

      "Yes."

      "And what did Solon – Mr. Talbot – say?"

      "He said he might call; but he was in a great hurry."

      "Did you remember to give him our address?"

      "Yes, mother; I said you would like to see him about grandfather's estate."

      "I certainly would. It seems strange, very strange – that father should have left so little money."

      "We only got seventy-five dollars out of it."

      "When I expected at least five thousand."

      "I suspect there's been some dishonesty on the part of Uncle Solon. You know he is awfully fond of money."

      "Yes, he always was."

      "And Tom Trotter says that Edgar told him his father was very rich."

      "It seems strange the change that has taken place. When I first knew Solon Talbot I was a young lady in society with a high position, and he was a clerk in my father's store. He was of humble parentage, though that, of course, is not to his discredit. His father used to go about sawing wood for those who chose to employ him."

      "You don't mean it! You never told me that before."

      "No, for I knew that Solon would be ashamed to have it known, and as I said before it is nothing to his discredit."

      "But it might prevent Edgar from putting on such airs. He looked at me as if I was an inferior being, and he didn't care to have anything to say to me."

      "I hope you don't feel sensitive on that account."

      "Sensitive? No. I can get along without Edgar Talbot's notice. I mean some time to stand as high or higher than Uncle Solon, and to be quite as rich."

      "I hope you will, Mark, but as we are at present situated it will be hard to rise."

      "Plenty of poor boys have risen, and why not I?"

      "It is natural for the young to be hopeful, but I have had a good deal to depress me. Did you remember that the rent comes due the day after to-morrow?"

      "How much have you towards it, mother?"

      "Only five dollars, and it's eight. I don't see where the other three dollars are coming from, unless," – and here her glance rested on the plain gold ring on her finger.

      "Pledge your wedding-ring, mother!" exclaimed Mark. "Surely you don't mean that?"

      "I would rather do it than lose our shelter, poor as it is."

      "There must be some other way – there must be."

      "You will not receive any wages till Saturday."

      "No, but perhaps we can borrow something till

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