"I'll give you fifty cents a week," said Mills, "and more if I do well. You can come to-day, if you like."
"You are very kind, but I am doing better than that," said Frank.
"What are you doing,—selling papers?"
"No; I have given that up. I am a telegraph boy."
"How much do you make?"
"Seven dollars last week."
"Why, you will be rich," said the blind man, enviously. "I don't think I get as much as that myself, and I have to pay a boy out of it."
His poor guide did not have the appearance of being very liberally paid.
"Then you won't come back?" said Mills, querulously.
"No, I guess not."