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“I am a life-insurance agent,” said Walter, “or, at least, I am trying to be, but have not yet succeeded in writing a policy.”

“I have been thinking of insuring my life for a small sum. If you come home with me you may talk me into doing it.”

“Then I will certainly accept your invitation,” said Walter, smiling.

“My wife made me promise to keep you. She wants to show her gratitude. Besides, you may be wanted to appear against the prisoner to-morrow morning.”

“I shall be glad to help him to his deserts,” said Walter. “The sooner he is locked up the better it will be for the community.”

Walter had no reason to regret his acceptance of the invitation. Mrs. Gregory exerted herself to the utmost in providing an appetizing supper, far in advance of anything he would have had set before him at his boarding-house, Mrs. Canfield being an indifferent cook. Generally her butter was strong and her tea weak, while the contrary should have been the case, and her biscuit heavy with saleratus. Walter thoroughly enjoyed his supper, and was almost ashamed of his appetite. But it gave his hostess great pleasure to see his appreciation of the meal, and she took it as a compliment to herself as a cook.

After supper Walter and Mr. Gregory sat down to business. He explained the methods of the insurance company for which he was acting as agent, and found Mr. Gregory an interested and intelligent listener.

“You may write me a policy for a thousand dollars,” he said.

“You will need to pass a medical examination,” said Walter.

“Certainly; will our village physician do?”

“Yes.”

“Then take your hat and walk over with me. It is only half-a-mile distant.”

The whole matter was adjusted that evening, and Walter was pleased to feel that he had made a successful start in his new business.

The next morning the tramp was brought before Justice Jones, who arranged to hold court early to oblige Walter and Mr. Gregory, and the prisoner received a sentence of a year's confinement. He gave the name of Barney Fogg, and under that name received his sentence. He scowled fiercely while Walter was giving his evidence, and as he was taken from the court-room handcuffed, he turned toward our hero and said: “It's your turn now, young bantam, but I'll be even with you yet.”

“What a terrible man!” said Mr. Gregory, shuddering. “I hope I shall never see him again.”





CHAPTER XVI WALTER GOES INTO A NEW BUSINESS

One swallow doesn't make a summer, and one policy doesn't establish the success of an insurance agent. Walter received from Mr. Perkins five dollars commission on the policy he had written at Elm Bank, and this encouraged him to renewed efforts. But in the fortnight following he only succeeded in writing a policy for two hundred and fifty dollars, for a man who designed it to meet his funeral expenses. For this Walter received one dollar and a quarter. He made numerous other attempts, but he found, though he understood the subject thoroughly, that his youth operated against him. He decided that he was wasting his time, and one morning he waited on Mr. Perkins and resigned his agency.

“Have you anything else in view?” asked that gentleman.

“No, sir.”

“Then why don't you keep on till you have secured another position?”

“Because it takes up my time, and prevents my getting anything else.”

“I don't know but you are right, Mr. Sherwood. You have made a good beginning, and if you were ten years older I think you would make a successful agent.”

“I can't afford to wait ten years,” returned Walter, with a smile.

“If ever you want to come back, I will start you again.”

Walter thanked Mr. Perkins, and left the office.

He now began to explore the columns of the daily papers, in the hope of finding some opening, but met with the usual rebuffs and refusals when he called upon advertisers.

At length he saw the following advertisement in the Chicago Tribune:

“WANTED—A confidential clerk at a salary of fifteen dollars per week. As a guarantee of fidelity, a small deposit will be required. LOCKE & GREEN, No. 257 1-2 State Street.”

“Fifteen dollars a week!” repeated Walter hopefully. “That will support me very comfortably. If I get it I will change my boarding-place, for I don't like Mrs. Canfield's table. I shall feel justified in paying a little more than I do now.”

The only thing that troubled him was as to the deposit. Though he had economized as closely as he knew how, he had made quite an inroad upon his small capital, and had only forty-six dollars left. He had been in Chicago four weeks, and had not yet been able to write home that he had found a permanent position. He had written about his insurance agency, and had not failed to chronicle his first success.

This letter Doctor Mack had read to his housekeeper, Miss Nancy Sprague.

“Well, Nancy,” he said, “Walter is at work.”

“You don't say so, doctor! What is he doing?”

“He is a life-insurance agent.”

“Is that a good business?”

“Walter writes that one agent is making a hundred and twenty-five dollars a week,” answered the doctor, with a humorous twinkle in his eye.

“I'm glad Master Walter has got such a good business,” said the housekeeper, brightening up. “That's a great sum for a boy like him to make.”

“It isn't he that has made it, Nancy. There are very few that do, and those have to be old and experienced men.”

“Well, he'll make a good living, anyhow.”

“Perhaps so,” answered the doctor dubiously, for he understood better than Nancy how precarious were the chances of an inexperienced agent. He was not at all surprised when Walter wrote later that though he had met with some success, he thought it better to look for a situation with a regular salary attached.

“He's gaining a little knowledge of the world,” thought the guardian. “I don't think he'll be able to indulge in luxurious living for the present. It won't be long, probably, before he runs out of money.”

It was with a hopeful spirit that Walter started for the office of Locke & Green. He was pretty well acquainted with Chicago by this time, and had no difficulty in locating any office in the business part of the city.

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