"In that case I would be willing to start you at eight dollars per week, and after six months I would raise you to ten dollars."
"Then leave your name and address. Even if that new clerk does suit there may be another opening before long--although I would not advise you to lay back and depend upon it."
"Then I trust you get an opening soon--if I cannot use you," concluded Mr. Ruggles.
Robert wrote out his name in his best style, and added the address of his boarding house. The handwriting pleased the map-publisher, but he put it on file without comment. Then the boy bowed himself out.
"What a nice man," he thought. "I like him even better than I do Mr. Gray."
He was pleased to think that, although there was no immediate opening for him, there might be one in the near future.
As Robert entered the outer office he looked around for the Englishman and the Canadian. They were nowhere to be seen.
"They are either in one of the other offices or they have gone," he said to himself. "I'd give a good deal to know just what they are up to. When I write to Mr. Marden I must tell him about the pair."
Once on the sidewalk the boy hardly knew how to turn. He had one more place on his list--that of a wholesale butcher, but the idea of working in a packing house did not please him.
"I don't believe it would suit me," he said to himself. "Especially if I had to work down by the stockyards."
Nevertheless, he was resolved not to remain idle if it could be helped, and so started out to find the address.
The locality was some distance from the center of the city and in a neighborhood filled with factories and saloons. At the corner of the block upon which the packing establishment was located, Robert came to a halt.
"I don't believe mother would like me to work in such a place as this," he mused. "The folks may be honest enough, but they don't know the meaning of the word refinement."
The question came from a very small and very dirty boy who had brushed up against Robert's elbow.
"Hardly," answered Robert. "Is that Rogers' packing house over there?"
"Thank you, that's all I wanted to know."
"He jest came out of O'Grady's saloon and he's more'n half full."
"Does he owe you anything?" went on the street urchin, with a coolness that swallowed up the impertinence of the question.