"Indeed!" sneered Fletcher. "I was not aware that Mr. Walton was in that line of business. What are his terms?"
"I refer you to him."
"What do you charge for packing trunks, Mr. Walton?"
"I think fifty cents would be about right," answered Harry, with perfect gravity. "Can you give me a job, Mr. Fletcher?"
"I might, if I had known it in time, though I am particular who handles my things."
"Walton is careful, and I can vouch for his honesty," said Oscar, carrying out the joke. "His wages in the printing office are not large, and he would be glad to make a little extra money."
"It must be very inconvenient to be poor," said Fletcher, with a supercilious glance at our hero, who was kneeling before Oscar's trunk.
"It is," answered Harry, quietly, "but as long as work is to be had I shall not complain."
"To be sure!" said Fletcher. "My father is wealthy, and I shall not have to work."
"Suppose he should fail?" suggested Oscar.