"Easily. I will tell you later how I have prospered."
"Won't you stop and eat supper with us, Mr. Walton?" asked Mrs. Kent.
"Gladly, if you will call me Scott. I want to ask Mr. Kent about his early acquaintance with my poor father."
The evening was spent in social chat, and it was ten o'clock before Scott left his new friends.
"I shall expect to see you on Monday morning at the store, Harold," he said, as he went away.
Three days later, in the early evening, Loammi Little met Harold in the street.
"Hi, you boy!" he said, with malicious pleasure; "you lost your place at my father's store, didn't you?"
"That will teach you to treat me with respect hereafter."
"I suppose I am indebted to you for getting me discharged."
"To thank me!" exclaimed Loammi, in surprise.
"Did Scott Walton get it for you?" asked Loammi, quickly.
"Then he had better mind his own business. My father may get him discharged from his place there."
"That is more than he can do. Mr. Tower puts great confidence in Scott."
A really mean person can receive no heavier blow than to find his malicious attempt to injure another of no avail. This was the case with Loammi.
When he was forced to believe that Scott really received the high salary he had contemptuously scoffed at, he became more discontented than ever. He tried to get his father to increase his allowance, but without success. He was mortified to find that even Harold vied with him in dress.
"How these beggarly upstarts are coming up!" he said to himself, bitterly. "It makes me sick."
But a heavier blow was in store for him. Dull times came in business, retail trade fell off, and one morning it was announced in the papers that the great house of Ezra Little had suspended.
Mr. Little made desperate efforts to secure financial assistance, but in vain. No one liked him, and it looked as if he was irretrievably ruined.
When things looked darkest, a plain-looking old man entered the store, and asked to see Mr. Little.
"Seth Lawton!" exclaimed the merchant. "I can't see you. I am very busy."
"I hear you are in trouble," said Cousin Seth.
"And I suppose you are glad of it," replied Ezra, bitterly.
"No, I have come to help you," responded Mr. Lawton.
"You help me!" repeated Ezra, scornfully. "What good will a few hundred dollars do?"