"Not as yet, but I can sympathize with you."
"I am so glad you have come. I shall make you my confidential friend."
Then the conversation drifted into other channels.
CHAPTER XVI. — ANDY AT WORK.
Punctually as the clock struck eight the next morning Andy entered the store of Mr. Flint on Union Square. He looked for his employer, but the jeweler seldom arrived before nine, his residence being in Harlem.
Behind the counter, arranging the goods in one of the cases, was a man with reddish hair who might at a guess be thirty-five years of age. It was Mr. Flint's head clerk, Simon Rich, who had been absent when Andy made his first call.
"What can I do for you, boy?" he asked, superciliously.
"Is Mr. Flint in?"