"Surely you don't suspect him of dishonesty."
"Still waters run deep," said the clerk, sententiously.
Mr. Flint smiled to himself as he turned away. He understood that the secret of his head clerk's prejudice was the fact that Andy had taken the place of his nephew.
Meanwhile Andy had got well acquainted at his boarding house. Besides Mr. Warren he found his next neighbor, Sam Perkins, quite sociable.
Sam was a youth of eighteen, and was employed in a furnishing-goods store on lower Broadway. He was fortunate in the location of his store, as he finished work at half-past five, and was able to be at supper at the regular hour. He seemed rather fond of dress and indulged in a variety of showy neckties, being able to get them at wholesale rates.
He introduced himself to Andy the first evening.
"What pay do you get?" he asked.
"Five dollars a week."
"I get seven, but it's too small. A man can't live on it. Why, my car fare costs me sixty cents a week."
"It must be rather a tight squeeze."