"There is my card," said Mr. Flint.
Andy received it and read the name:
F. FLINT,
UNION SQUARE.
JEWELRY.
The two men conversed together, and when dinner was over they walked up Broadway to Fourteenth Street. Turning the left-hand corner, they soon reached a jewelry store of modest appearance, but evidently containing a valuable stock.
A youth with light-brown hair, who seemed to have been born tired, was leaning against the counter. This, doubtless, was the boy who was not satisfactory.
"John," said Mr. Flint, "have you carried the parcel to Forty-eighth Street?"
"No, sir," answered the boy.
"Why not?"
"I thought it would do just as well after lunch."
"There you are mistaken. Put on your hat at once and go," said his employer, sharply.