"Mr. Smith has been down on me ever since Tom ran away," said Oscar to himself, after he had thought the matter over. "I have seen it plainly enough; and, if I could only step into another situation somewhere, I should be glad to leave him. But when I ask a man for work, and he wants to know why I was discharged, what shall I say? That's what hurts me."
"Here you are, Oscar!" exclaimed a cheery voice, breaking in upon his meditations. "It is easier riding than walking. Jump in."
An elegant top-buggy, drawn by a stylish, high-stepping horse, dashed up beside the boy, and the gentleman who was driving drew his reins with one hand, while with the other he threw back the heavy lap-robe so that the boy could get in. It was Mr. Parker—Leon's father.
"I am obliged to you, but I believe I would rather walk," was Oscar's reply.
"But I am not going to let you walk," said the gentleman, almost sternly. "Jump in here."
Oscar was forced to smile in spite of himself; but it was a sickly smile, that did not fail to attract the lawyer's attention.
"Now, then," he continued, after the boy had seated himself by his side and tucked the lap-robe about him, "what brought you so far into the country this cold day, without your overcoat? and what is the matter with you? You look as though you had lost your best friend."
"And so I have, Mr. Parker," replied Oscar sadly. "Mr. Smith gave me my walking-papers this morning."
"He did?" exclaimed the lawyer, opening his eyes. "What reason did he give?"
"He says he is going to reduce expenses because times are so hard," answered Oscar. "But I know that there is something back of that, for he wouldn't give me a letter of recommendation."