"I'll try to make you as little trouble as possible, sir," he said. "I may make mistakes at first, but I'm willin' to work, and I want to work my way up."
"That's right, my boy," said Mr. Murdock. "Let that be your determination, and I am sure you will succeed."
"Before Mr. Murdock begins to instruct you in your duties," said Mr. Rockwell, "you may go to the post-office, and see if there are any letters for us. Our box is No. 5,670."
"All right, sir," said Dick; and he took his hat at once and started.
He reached Chatham Square, turned into Printing House Square, and just at the corner of Spruce and Nassau Streets, close by the Tribune Office, he saw the familiar face and figure of Johnny Nolan, one of his old associates when he was a boot-black.
"How are you, Johnny?" he said.
"Is that you, Dick?" asked Johnny, turning round. "Where's your box and brush?"
"At home."
"You haven't give up business,—have you?"
"I've just gone into business, Johnny."