the landlady said there was a young lady to see him in the parlor.
Matt at once thought of Ida Bartlett, who lived but a few blocks away, with her two sisters and her mother. He was right; it was the young lady stenographer.
"I could not wait, Matt, and so came over just as soon as we had tea," she explained. "I want you to tell me what you are going to do, now you are out of Mr. Fenton's offices. You spoke of having something else in view. I trust it is something better."
"I can't tell as to that yet," returned the boy, and then sitting down beside her on the tête-à-tête, he told her of Andrew Dilks and the auctioneer's proposition.
"That sounds as if it might be quite a good thing," said Ida Bartlett, when he had finished. "You are sure this Dilks is no sharper? There are lots of sharpers in the auction business, you know."
"Like the one who tried to make you pay?" laughed Matt.
"Exactly."
"Well, to tell the truth, I thought of that. But Dilks doesn't look like a sharper; quite the contrary. Of course, I'll have to keep my eyes open, We will have a written agreement, and I will not let the
