Felix shrugged his shoulders.
“What do you mean? Do you know anything about him?” pursued Mr. Goldwin, his suspicions aroused.
“No, sir—er—not much.”
“Speak up, young man. Tell me what you know about this young Vermonter.”
“Vermonter?” repeated Felix, with a rising inflection; and he smiled suggestively.
“Yes, Vermonter. Do you know anything to the contrary?”
“You know I was an applicant for this position, Mr. Goldwin, so I do not like to answer your question. I hope you will excuse me.”
“I appreciate your sense of honor, young man,” said Mr. Goldwin; “but it is to my interest to know the facts. If there is anything against him, I should be informed of it. Tell me what you know, and you will lose nothing by doing so.”
With apparent reluctance, Felix yielded to the persuasion, and said:
“I was on Broadway with a friend of mine, at the close of business hours, the day that you hired this young fellow. We were walking along by the Herald building when he came up Broadway and stopped to read the news on the Telegram bulletin board. I said to my friend, with surprise, ‘There is the fellow I told you about—the one that beat me this morning in getting the position at Goldwin’s.’ He looked at me incredulously and said: ‘Why, you told me he was a country boy—from Vermont.’