TOM thought it best to attend, first of all, to Mr. Julian’s business. Accordingly he inquired his way to Wall Street, and was not long in finding the office of Mellish & Co.

It was a large office on the ground floor, with a counter and a cashier’s desk. Considerable business appeared to be transacted there, to judge from the number of clerks and of visitors.

“Well, young man, what can I do for you?” inquired a young man.

It was a son of Mr. Mellish, the head of the firm.

Tom presented a few lines from Mr. Julian, authorizing the firm to pay him the quarterly interest due on Mr. Julian’s securities.

The young man glanced his eye over it rapidly.

“Will you have a check or the money?” he asked.

“The money,” answered Tom.

“Very well. I will make out a check, and our cashier will give you the money on it.”

Five minutes later—perhaps in less time—Tom had placed in his hands two hundred and fifty dollars. He had not supposed the business would be transacted so easily. In his eyes two hundred and fifty dollars was an79 immense sum, and he had some private doubts whether, in spite of Mr. Julian’s letter, they would be willing to pay it to an unknown boy like him. It even occurred to him that it might be inconvenient for the firm to pay out so much money, and they might put him off till another day. But he didn’t know how things were done in Wall Street.

Next to him was a boy of about his own age, who quietly gave an order for the purchase of five hundred shares of some kind of stock, at 89. Tom calculated that this purchase would amount to over forty thousand dollars. Yet the order was taken as a matter of course.

“There must be a good deal of money in New York,” thought Tom, not unnaturally.

As he was going out of the office, a bootblack stepped up to him and said, jocosely:

“Say, young feller, couldn’t you lend me a thousand dollars till to-morrer? I’ve got a big payment to make, and I’m short.”

As the young applicant for a loan was dressed in a ragged costume of unknown antiquity, Tom, of course, understood the joke.

“I’ve got a big payment to make myself,” he answered, “and I can’t spare any money to-day.”

“All right!” said the bootblack, nonchalantly, “I’ll go and see Astor or Vanderbilt. I guess one of ’em will let me have the money.”

“You didn’t take me for either of them, did you?” asked Tom.

“Oh, no; I knew you was A. T. Stewart,” said the boy, winking.

80

Tom laughed and walked up toward Broadway.

He was a little nervous about carrying so much money about with him. If he should lose it there would be no possibility of making it up. He put it into his inside coat pocket and buttoned up his coat tight.

As he was turning out of Wall Street he was addressed by a man of thirty or thereabouts, who had seen him come out of the office of Mellish & Co., though Tom did know that.

“My young friend,” he said, “have you five minutes to spare?”

Tom looked up at the clock on Trinity Church and saw that it was not yet eleven o’clock.

“Yes, sir,” he answered.

“I see you have no watch,” began the stranger.

“Is he going to give me one?” thought Tom.

“A young man of your age ought to have a watch. Now I’m going to make you an offer—a splendid offer—the chance of a life-time. Do you see that watch?”

He drew out what appeared to be a gold watch of rather a pretty pattern.

“I see it,” said Tom, wondering what was to come next.

“I want to sell it. The fact is, I’ve got a note to meet at three o’clock, and must have some money. The watch is worth seventy-five dollars. I will sell it to you for twenty-five.”

“You must be in great want of money,” said Tom, not meaning to be sarcastic.

“I am; but that is not the only consideration. I really81 don’t need the watch, for I have another at home. Say the word, and the watch is yours at twenty-five dollars—dirt cheap, I can assure you.”