CHAPTER XII.
A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.
“I say, Griswold,” said a gentleman seated at a neighboring table, “is that your son?”
Grant Griswold smiled.
“Hardly,” he said. “Ben, how old are you?”
“Nearly sixteen.”
“And I am only thirty-two, so that hypothesis lacks probability. We are only recent acquaintances, or, let me say, friends, but I hope our friendship will continue.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Ben. “I hope so too.”
As the meal progressed Mr. Griswold questioned Ben as to his plans.
“I want to make a living,” said Ben, “but I know so little about the city that I can’t tell yet which will be the best way.”
“I would look out for something for you, but unfortunately I sail for Europe next Saturday, to be gone for three months. Have you any friends in New York?”