"I met quite a slick young man here this afternoon; he says he's a broker in Wall Street. He knows how to make money."
"Does he, sir?" inquired Rupert, getting interested.
"Yes; he says he made two hundred dollars last month, and he thinks that pretty small."
"I should think it a good deal to make."
"He doesn't have to work very hard, either. Ephraim would like being a broker. He always did like to dress up, but at home he can't do it till evenin' after he has milked the cows and finished the chores."
"Did the gentleman mention his name to you?"
"Yes, he said his name was Clarence Clayton. He thinks he may be able to take my son Ephraim into his office."
"Did he tell you where his office was?"
"Well, down in Wall Street somewhere. I s'pose there's a good deal of money made in Wall Street."
"And a good deal lost, too," suggested Rupert.