"What kind of a store is it?"
"A bookstore."
"What is the name of your employer?"
"Baker."
"Baker's bookstore!" repeated Richard, turning to Fosdick. "That is where our particular friend, Roswell Crawford, is employed."
"Yes," said Mark; "there's a boy there about sixteen or seventeen. I believe that is his name."
"I am not sure whether his being there will make it pleasant to you. Does he know that you are a friend of mine?"
"Yes," said Mark; "he inquired particularly about you, Mr. Hunter."
"He's very fond of me," said Dick; "I suppose he sent me his love."
"No," said Mark, smiling; "he didn't speak as if he loved you very much."