“Yes, Ben,” was the reply.  “I can afford to come early for a morning or two, as I shall soon be out of business.”

“You haven’t sold out, have you?” inquired Ben quickly.

“Yes; the bargain was struck last evening.”

“How soon do you leave the store?”

“In three days.  It will take that time to make up my accounts.”

“I am sorry,” said Ben, “for I suppose I shall have to retire, too.”

“I don’t know about that, Ben.  Very likely my successor may want you.”

“That depends on who he is.  Do you mind telling me, or is it a secret?”

“Oh, no; it will have to come out, of course.  Squire Davenport has bought the business.”

“The squire isn’t going to keep the store, is he?” asked Ben, in amazement.

“No; though he will, no doubt, supervise it.  He will employ a manager.”

“Do you know who is to be the manager, Mr. Crawford?”

“Some connection of his named Kirk.”

Ben whistled.

“Do you know him?” the storekeeper was led to inquire.

“I have not seen him, but he called with the squire on my mother,” said Ben significantly.

“I shall be glad to recommend you to him.”

“It will be of no use, Mr. Crawford,” answered Ben, in a decided tone. 
“I know he wouldn’t employ me, nor would I work for him if he would. 
Neither he nor the squire is a friend of mine.”

“I did not dream of this, Ben.  I am sorry if the step I have taken is going to deprive you of employment,” said Mr. Crawford, who was a kind-hearted man, and felt a sincere interest in his young clerk.

“Never mind, Mr. Crawford, I am not cast down.  There will be other openings for me.  I am young, strong, and willing to work, and I am sure I shall find something to do.”

“That’s right, Ben.  Cheer up, and if I hear of any good chance, rest assured that I will let you know of it.”

Tom Davenport was not long in hearing of his father’s bargain.  He heard it with unfeigned pleasure, for it occurred to him at once that Ben, for whom he had a feeling of hatred, by no means creditable to him, would be thrown out of employment.

“Promise me, pa, that you won’t employ Ben Barclay,” he said.

“I have no intention of employing that boy,” said his father.  “Mr. Kirk has a son of his own, about Ben’s age, and will, no doubt, put him into the store, unless you should choose to go in and learn the business.”

“What!  I become a store boy!” exclaimed Tom, in disgust.  “No, thank you.  I might be willing to become salesman in a large establishment in the city, but I don’t care to go into a country grocery.”

“It wouldn’t do you any harm,” said the squire, who was not quite so high-minded as his son.  “However, I merely mentioned it as something you could do if you chose.”

“Bah!  I don’t choose it,” said Tom decidedly.