Saturday night came, and with it the end of Herbert's engagement in
the post office.

He pocketed the three dollars which his employer grudgingly gave
him, and set out on his way home.

"Wait a minute, Herbert," said Eben. "I'll walk with you."

Herbert didn't care much for Eben's company but he was too polite to
say so. He waited therefore, till Eben appeared with hat and cane.

"I'm sorry to cut you out of your place, Herbert," said the young
man.

"Thank you," answered Herbert.

"It isn't my fault, for I don't want to go into the store,"
proceeded Eben. "A fellow that's stood behind the counter in a city
store is fit for something better, but it's the old man's fault."

Herbert made no comment, and Eben proceeded:

"Yes," said he, "it's the old man's fault. He's awfully stingy, you
know that yourself."

Herbert did know it, but thought it would not be in good taste to
say so.