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“You’ve hit that nail square on the head,” said Will, with energy. “I’m gettin’ too big to shove the brush, or handle the extras. What’s more, I’m not goin’ to be a poor critter all my life. I want a bizz that’s got money in it. I’ve sot my eye on a brown-stone shanty up Broad street. If it’s for sale ten years from now I’m in the market.”

Mr. Leonard laughed slightly at the boy’s tone of confidence.

“Fortunes ain’t made as quickly as you fancy, my lad,” he said.

“If I don’t hang my hat up in that shanty, you can count me out,” said Will.

“The saucy young rascal has the making of a business man in him,” said Mr. Leonard, to himself. “I would much rather have a boy that aimed high than one that aimed low. He is a handsome lad, too, and if better dressed would be quite presentable. I have half a notion to try him, with all his impudence. He is a perfect specimen of the street Arab, but he seems quick and intelligent.”

“How about that job?” asked Will, impatiently. “I’m bound to strike one, somewhere, afore night. I’ve give you the refusal. The man that gets me makes a ten-strike, and no braggin’.”