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When he went back to the great factory where he had seen and talked with Mr. Stockard, he went around to another door and this time asked for the head janitor. This individual, a genial Irishman, took stock of Halliday at a glance.

“But what do ye want to be doin’ sich wurruk for, whin ye’ve been through school?” he asked.

“I am doing the only thing I can get to do,” was the answer.

“Well,” said the Irishman, “ye’ve got sinse, anyhow.”

Bert found himself employed as an under janitor at the factory at a wage of nine dollars a week. At this, he could pay his share to keep the house going, and save a little for the period of study he still looked forward to. The people who had accused him of laziness now made a martyr of him, and said what a pity it was for a man with such an education and with so much talent to be so employed menially.

He did not neglect his studies, but read at night, whenever the day’s work had not made both brain and body too weary for the task.

In this way his life went along for over a year when one morning a note from Mr. Featherton summoned him to that gentleman’s office. It is true that Halliday read the note with some trepidation. His bitter experience had not yet taught him how not to dream. He was not yet old enough for that. “Maybe,” he thought, “Mr. Featherton has relented, and is going to give me a chance anyway. Or perhaps he wanted me to prove my metal before he consented to take me up. Well, I’ve tried to do it, and if that’s what he wanted, I hope he’s satisfied.” The note which seemed written all over with joyful tidings shook in his hand.

The genial manner with which Mr. Featherton met him reaffirmed in his mind the belief that at last the lawyer had determined to give him a chance. He was almost deferential as he asked Bert into his private office, and shoved a chair forward for him.

“Well, you’ve been getting on, I see,” he began.

“Oh, yes,” replied Bert, “I have been getting on by hook and crook.”

“Hum, done any studying lately?”

“Yes, but not as much as I wish to. Coke and Wharton aren’t any clearer to a head grown dizzy with bending over mops, brooms and heavy trucks all day.”

“No, I should think not. Ah–oh–well, Bert, how should you like to come into my office and help around, do such errands as I need and help copy my papers?”

“I should be delighted.”

“It would only pay you five dollars a week, less than what you are getting now, I suppose, but it will be more genteel.”

“Oh, now, that I have had to do it, I don’t care so much about the lack of gentility of my present work, but I prefer what you offer because I shall have a greater chance to study.”

“Well, then, you may as well come in on Monday. The office will be often in your charge, as I am going to be away a great deal in the next few months. You know I am going to make the fight for nomination to the seat on the bench which is vacant this fall.”

“Indeed. I have not so far taken much interest in politics, but I will do all in my power to help you with both nomination and election.”

“Thank you,” said Mr. Featherton, “I am sure you can be of great service to me as the vote of your people is pretty heavy in Broughton. I have always been a friend to them, and I believe I can depend upon their support. I shall be glad of any good you can do me with them.”

Bert laughed when he was out on the street again. “For value received,” he said. He thought less of Mr. Featherton’s generosity since he saw it was actuated by self-interest alone, but that in no wise destroyed the real worth of the opportunity that was now given into his hands. Featherton, he believed, would make an excellent judge, and he was glad that in working for his nomination his convictions so aptly fell in with his inclinations.