cornelius mccracken lived in a three story and basement house on lexington avenue. it was a solid and comfortable house, but not showy. he had a wife and three children. the eldest, a girl, had recently married.

there were two boys of sixteen and eighteen, but they were not particularly interesting, and as they were attending school bernard did not get well acquainted with them.

on the first morning after breakfast bernard asked, as his guardian was starting for his office, “is there anything you wish me to do?”

“no; you can go about the city and make yourself familiar with it. if i should get you a place here it might be well for you to know your way about the streets.”

“i shall like that.”

“oh, by the way, have you any money for car fare, or any small expenses?”

“yes, sir, i have all i shall need for the present.”

mr. mccracken looked relieved, for he was not a liberal man, and was glad to be freed from the expense of supplying his ward with pocket money.

shortly after breakfast he went out and bent his steps toward broadway. he had been in new york before, but not for some years, and it was quite new to him. he wandered about as chance suggested.

about eleven o’clock he was passing a barber shop on a side street, and it occurred to him that his hair needed cutting. he entered the shop, and sat down to wait his turn. he found himself sitting next a man with hair partially gray, who regarded him with some attention.

“have you come in to be shaved?” he asked, with a smile.

bernard smiled in return.

“no,” he answered. “that can wait. i shall have my hair cut.”

“you bear a striking resemblance to a man i once knew,” said the old gentleman, after a pause.

“what was his name?” asked bernard, with natural curiosity.

“clayton brooks.”

“that was my father,” said bernard quickly.

“is it possible? that accounts for the resemblance. is your father living?”

“no, sir; he died ten years ago.”

“i supposed he must be dead, as i had lost track of him.”

“did you know him well?” asked bernard eagerly.

“quite well. we were both traveling salesmen. he traveled for a jewelry firm in maiden lane, i for a dry goods house. our territory was in large part the same, and we often stayed at the same hotel. is your mother living?”

“no, sir. she died before my father.”

“then you are an orphan?”

“yes, sir,” answered bernard gravely.

“pardon me—it is none of my business—but your father left you comfortably provided for, did he not?”

bernard shook his head.

“on the contrary, he left almost nothing, i am told.”

“who, then, took care of you, for you were too young to take care of yourself?”

“a business man down town, cornelius mccracken. he is my guardian, though there seems to be no property for him to take care of for me.”

“i remember the name.”

“did you ever hear my father speak of him? i have often wondered how he came to be my guardian.”

“yes, i remember now that your father told me he had saved a few thousand dollars, and put it into mr. mccracken’s hands to invest for him.”

“are you sure of this?” asked bernard, in surprise.

“yes. the name is a peculiar one, and i remember it for that reason.”

“then there was some property—at one time.”

“yes; i am not mistaken about that.”

“it is singular that mr. mccracken has never told me anything about it.”

“yes,” answered the old gentleman slowly. “it is singular. does he say that your father left nothing?”

“no. he says that he left a trifle, but that it was soon exhausted, and that he had since paid my expenses out of his own pocket.”

“the money which your father put into his hands was no trifle. the interest alone would have paid a boy’s expenses. are you at mr. mccracken’s house?”

“yes, sir; but i only went there yesterday. he put me at a boarding-school in the country, and i ran away.”

“you don’t look like a boy who would run away from school.”

“i shouldn’t if i had not had good cause.”

“suppose you tell me why you did it.”

bernard, upon this, told the story already familiar to the reader.

“do you blame me for leaving mr. snowdon?” he asked, at the conclusion of his tale.

“no, i do not. by george, i would have done the same if i had been in your place. does mr. mccracken want you to go back?”

“no; he is going to find a place for me.”

“if i were in business i would give you a position in a minute. i am sure that your father’s son would suit me.”

“thank you, sir. are you still traveling?”

“no. four years since an old uncle died and left me a good sum of money, so that i have since been able to live at ease without working. i am not an old man, still i am fully ten years older than your father would have been, and it is pleasant to think i can do as i please.”

“i don’t care to retire just yet,” said bernard, smiling.

“i should hope not. even if you were able to live without work, i would not give much for a boy who would be willing to do so.”

“next!” announced one of the barbers.

“it is my turn, i believe,” said the old gentleman.

“can you meet me to-morrow at eleven o’clock at the st. nicholas hotel?”

“yes, sir.”

“i may have more to say to you about your affairs. on your father’s account, i take a great interest in you. by the way, don’t say anything to mr. mccracken about meeting a friend of your father’s.”

“no, sir, i will not.”

the next day bernard kept his appointment. he had been in the hotel—now torn down—but five minutes, when his acquaintance of the day before made his appearance.

“by the way,” said he, “i forgot to tell you my name.”

“i thought of that after we parted,” said bernard.

“it is alvin franklin. there is a tradition in our family that we are related to benjamin franklin. i can’t certify to it, but i hope it is true. here is my card.”.

“thank you, sir. i should have remembered it without a card, but i will keep it.”

“referring to my conversation with you yesterday, i have made some inquiries of my business acquaintances.”

“what did you learn, sir?”

“that his reputation is not of the best. he is not a man who is above suspicion, but he takes care to keep within the law. in fact, as far as i can learn, he is a tricky man.”

“i hope that will never be said of me, mr. franklin.”

“it could never be said of your father. he was as straight and honorable a man as ever lived.”

“i am proud to hear you say so,” said bernard, flushing with pleasure.

“i may be a little hasty, but i can’t help feeling that in some way mr. mccracken has wronged you.”

“in what way, sir?”

“i think he has not accounted to you for property your father placed in his hands.”

“the same thought came into my mind, mr. franklin, but i did not wish to suspect my guardian, with nothing to go upon.”

“he seems to be just the man to cheat an orphan. a man who is dishonest in one way is likely to be dishonest in another.”

“even if it is so, i suppose i have no way of proving it.”

“probably not. if there were any proofs of the trust reposed by your father, mr. mccracken would be likely to destroy them. i will think over the matter, and if i can hit upon any course that would benefit you i will let you know.”

bernard and his new friend talked further of his father. it was a delight to the boy to meet some one who had known the parents of whom he could scarcely remember anything. all that mr. franklin had to say of the elder brooks redounded to his credit, and this was naturally gratifying to his son.

when they parted, bernard asked, “shall i mention to mr. mccracken meeting you?”

“i think not—at present.”

but chance ordered otherwise...

when bernard was drawing his handkerchief out of his side pocket after supper, he twitched out the card, which fell to the floor.

mr. mccracken’s sharp eye detected it.

“what is that?” he asked.

“a card.”

“of course. what name is on it?”

“alvin franklin.”

“who is he? is it a man you know?”

“yes, sir. it is an acquaintance of my father.”

“when did you see him?”

“to-day, at the st. nicholas hotel.”

“did he talk to you about your father?”

“yes, sir.”

“what did he say, and how did he happen to know him?”

bernard answered this question, but did not think it necessary to speak of the money which his father was said to have left.

mr. mccracken made no comment, but did not seem pleased. when bernard went up to bed, he said to himself, “i must get the boy out of the city. this man may tell him too much.”