"You will, as soon as you see him. You mustn't lose courage, Sam. I know it's bad for you, but——"
"I don't know what's going to become of us," said Sam despondently. "We shall be poor."
"That isn't the worst thing that can happen to you."
"Father has treated us very badly."
"He has done wrong; but he is your father. Remember, Sam, I am your friend, and if I can do anything for you I will."
"Thank you, James," he said. "You are a good fellow—much better than I thought. I supposed you would be glad I was down in the world."
Same was to be still more surprised. The next day he received the following letter from Ben Bradford:
"Dear Sam: I am very sorry to hear of your misfortune. Of course, no one can blame you or your mother. I believe I was the last acquaintance to see your father before he left Boston. I had occasion to go on board the Cunard steamer which sailed on Wednesday. On the dock I met your father, and had a little conversation with him. He did not tell me that he was going to Europe; but he was in a traveling-dress and, no doubt, he was.
"What has happened will, no doubt, make some difference in your plans. If you wish to get a situation in Boston, I may be able to help you to one. At the beginning of next month there will be an opening for a boy in an establishment on Milk Street. The wages will not exceed five dollars a week; but it would be difficult for a beginner to do better. If you wish, I will try to get this place for you. At any rate, I hope you will regard me as a friend who wishes you well. The little quarrel there has been between us is not worth remembering.
"Your sincere friend, "Benjamin Bradford."