"Mr. Joyce!"
"Why, hello! Where did you come from?" exclaimed the leather merchant,
thrusting the letters into his pocket and taking hold of the boy's
extended hand, "I hope you weren't hurt."
"No, sir," replied Richard, "only shaken up. I trust you were as
fortunate."
"Not quite. My foot was caught under the seat and was wrenched pretty
badly, so much so that I had a man take me half a mile in a wheelbarrow
to a doctor's."
"I looked all over for you," continued the boy. "I saved your valise
and wanted to return it."
And Richard related the particulars of his adventures.
"Humph! those railroad chaps are too particular in some cases and not
half enough so in others," declared Mr. Joyce. "What is in the bag
doesn't amount to much, but I'm much obliged to you for taking the
trouble to save it. I'll send for it this afternoon."
"And here is your guide-book," went on Richard, handing out the volume.
"I'm thankful for the use of it. It's been a real help to me."
"Better keep it then," replied the merchant. "I'll make you a present
of it." He laughed, presumably at the smallness of the gift.
"Thank you."
"Have you had any luck yet in your search for work?"
"No, sir. I could have had a job at several places, but the pay was
so small I couldn't afford to accept any of them.
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