erect a small workbench at home.

Here he often experimented upon various improvements in machinery, hoping at some time to invent that which might bring him in a substantial return.

One of his models--a planing machine attachment--was nearly completed, and this had been considerably praised by Mr. Benton, a shrewd speculator in inventions of various kinds.

"I'm afraid we'll have to draw part of that hundred dollars from the bank," observed Jack as the two were eating the neat supper Deb had prepared. "I hate to do it, but I don't see any way out of it."

"It does seem a shame, after we've kept it so long," returned his sister. "But do as you think best. Only, Jack, dear, please don't worry. It will all come out right in the end."

Her brother had laid down his knife and fork and was resting his chin on his hand in deep meditation.

"You're right, Deb," he exclaimed starting up, "and I ought to be thankful for what we have got, especially for having such a good little sister to ease things up."

"Say, Jack," suddenly began Deb, struck with an idea, "you are so handy with the tools, why don't you open a little shop of your own? Wouldn't it pay?"

Jack's face brightened more than it had for many a day.

"I'm glad you said that," he replied. "I've often thought of it. But I hated to give up a certainty like my wages for----"

"Yes, but now----" began Deb.

"One misfortune gives me a chance to tempt another." He gave a sorry little laugh. "Is that what you mean?"

"You'll get along--never fear."

"There ought to be a chance, true enough. I could sharpen tools, repair lawn mowers and bicycles, and mend all sorts of things. There is no such shop in Corney as yet, and it ought to pay."

"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb, with great interest.

"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into shape to do small work. I have most of the tools, and would only need a lathe and one or two other things--that I could get second-hand."

"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's conclusion; "to-morrow morning, go down to the bank and draw out seventy-five dollars. Then we'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and try your luck."

"Yes, but----"

"No buts, Jack; I'm willing to put up with whatever comes--bad luck as well as good. I'm sure you'll succeed."

"If your good wishes count for anything, I certainly shall," exclaimed Jack, earnestly. "I think I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month, or, maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with living rooms attached, which would be cheaper than hiring two places."

"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't have to go so far for dinner, and I could attend to customers while you were away."

The pair talked in this strain for over an hour. His sister's sanguine way of looking at the matter made the young machinist feel as if perhaps the shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and might prove the turning point to something better than they had ever before known.

The next morning, for the first time in several years, Jack had breakfast late. It was soon over, and then he put on his good clothes and started for the bank.

The streets were thronged with idle men. The Corney Tool Company employed nearly a thousand persons--in fact, it was by far the principal factory in the place--and to have all these