A good restaurant was found not far away and there the two procured a fine meal and took their time eating it.
“Have ye found work yet?” asked the old man.
“Not yet. I was looking for a job when I met you.”
“Well, I hope ye strike wot ye want, lad. But it’s hard to git a place in the city, some times.”
“I shall try my level best.”
“Wish I could git a job fer ye. But I don’t know nubuddy.”
“I am going to try the hotels next. I have a strong letter of recommendation from a hotel man.”
“If ye don’t git no work in Philadelphy come out on my farm. I’ll board ye all winter fer nuthin’,” went on Josiah Bean, generously.
“Thank you, Mr. Bean; you are very kind.”
“I mean it. We don’t live very high-falutin’, but we have plenty o’ plain, good victuals.”
“I’ll remember what you say,” answered our hero.
An hour later he saw the countryman on a train bound for home, and then he started once more to look for a situation.
JOE’S NEW POSITION.
All of that afternoon Joe looked for a position among the various hotels of the Quaker City. But at each place he visited he received the same answer, that there was no help needed just then.
“This is discouraging,” he told himself, as he retired that night. “Perhaps I’ll have to go to the country or back to Riverside after all.”
Yet he was up bright and early the next day and just as eager as ever to obtain a situation.
He had heard of a new hotel called the Grandon House and visited it directly after breakfast.
As he entered the corridor he heard his name called and turning around saw Andrew Mallison.
“How do you do, Mr. Mallison,” said our hero, shaking hands. “I didn’t expect to meet you here.”
“I’ve got a little special business in Philadelphia,” said the hotel man. “I came in last night and I am going back this afternoon. How are you making out?”
“It’s all out so far,” and Joe smiled faintly at his own joke.
“No situation, eh?”
“Why don’t you strike the people here. It’s a new place and the proprietor may need help.”
“That is what I came for.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you, Joe. Come on.”
Andrew Mallison led the way to the office and called up a stout, pleasant looking man.
“Mr. Drew, this is a young friend of mine, Joe Bodley. He worked for me this summer,—around the boats and also in the hotel. Now that the season is at an end he is trying to find something to do in the city. If you have an opening I can recommend him.”
Mr. Arthur Drew surveyed Joe critically. The new hotel was to be run in first-class style and he wanted his help to be of the best. He rather liked Joe’s appearance and he took note of the fact that our hero’s hands were scrupulously clean and that his shoes were blacked.