"It is a fact, though. That's a nice income to look forward to, eh, Oliver?"
"Yes, sir."
While this was going on they were standing in front of the window.
"Now," said Mr. Kenyon, "come in and I will introduce you to my nephew."
CHAPTER XIV.
A STORE IN THE BOWERY.
T HE store was crowded with a miscellaneous collection of cheap articles. That such a business should yield such large profits struck Oliver with surprise, but he reflected that it was possible, and that he was not qualified to judge of the extent of trade in a city store.
A tall man, pock-marked, and with reddish hair, stood behind the counter, and, with the exception of a young clerk of nineteen, appeared to be the only salesman. This was Ezekiel Bond.
"How are you, Ezekiel?" said Mr. Kenyon affably, advancing to the counter.
"Pretty well, thank you, uncle," said the other, twisting his features into the semblance of a smile. "When did you come into town?"