"What did you get at your last place?"
"Seven dollars a week."
"Humph! Your employer was not very liberal. A clerk that is worth anything to me is worth ten dollars a week at least."
The mentioning of ten dollars made Nat's heart jump.
"If you'll pay me ten dollars a week, Mr. Dart, I'll do my level best to earn it."
"Do you write a fair hand?"
"Here is my handwriting," answered the boy, and wrote his name on a piece of paper.
"That is quite good—for a boy. I think you will improve by practice. Here you will have quite some writing to do, and bills to sort out. But the work will not be difficult, for the summer is our dull season."
"I see."
"By the way, I suppose you know I require a deposit of one hundred dollars from each of my clerks," went on Hamilton Dart, with assumed carelessness. "Sometimes my clerks have quite some money to handle for me."