"Yes; I am his only son," answered Loammi, loftily.
"Dear me! I am proud to know you. And I suppose you will some time own the store?" continued the clerk, inquiringly.
"Probably, though I am not sure but I may become a lawyer. Do you know where Walton lives?"
"No. There are so many in the store that I know the residences of very few."
Loammi took his departure in a very complacent frame of mind. He had always been jealous of Scott, and the intelligence that he had lost his place was very agreeable to him.
It so happened that on Broadway he met Seth Lawton, whom he had not seen for a good while. Under ordinary circumstances he would have taken no notice of him, but now he had an object in speaking to him.
"Good-morning, Mr. Lawton," he said, condescendingly.
"Oh, good-morning, Loammi," rejoined the old man, who was short-sighted, when he realized who it was that had addressed him.
"Where do you think I have been?"