Walter's belongings were few, and soon packed away in his valise. Then he ran downstairs again and bid Mrs. Brown good-by and settled up with her. "I'll write to you and Dan some time," he said, on parting.
"Well, did you make it?" was Dan's question, when Walter appeared at the news-stand.
"I did, Dan." And the protégé of Uncle Sam told his youthful friend the particulars.
"I'm glad you got on the Brooklyn," said Dan, with a shake of his curly head. "She's going to lick the Spaniards out of their boots, see if she ain't!" And his earnestness made Walter laugh. Dan was but eleven, yet he read the newspapers as closely as do many grown folks.
The afternoon papers were now coming in and trade picked up, so that Walter had to help behind the counter. While he was at work a tall, thin boy sauntered up and gazed at him doubtfully.
"That's George Gimpwell," whispered Dan. "Didn't the boss say something about hiring him?"
"He did, Dan. Call him over."
The errand boy did so. "Russell wants to see you," he explained.
"I believe you were speaking to Mr. Newell about this situation," began Walter.
"Well—er—I asked him if he had any opening. I want work the worst way," sighed George Gimpwell. "Of course, I don't want to do you out of your job."