"i must hear all they have to say," thought robert.

ordinarily he despised playing the part of an eavesdropper, but in the present instance he felt justified in doing so.

"it ees a great pity zat man came to help mistair amberton," went on the canadian. "who is he, do you know, mistair hammerditch?"

"his name is marden and he is amberton's nephew."

"he seem to be verra smart, as you call heem."

"perhaps he is smart, le fevre. but i don't think he can outwit me," returned oscar hammerditch. he was one of the kind of men who hold a very exalted opinion of themselves.

the french canadian nodded his round head rapidly.

"no, he cannot outwit you—nor jean le fevre. once we have ze map and all will be well."

[pg 137]

at that moment the clerk came forward again.

"mr. ruggles is at liberty now," he said to robert. "you had best go in at once, before one of the clerks engages him."

"thank you, i will," answered the boy.

"i wish he had left me to listen to those schemers a bit longer," was what he thought.

but there seemed no help for it, and leaving the englishman and the canadian talking earnestly to each other he entered the private office of the proprietor of the firm.

mr. ruggles proved to be a pleasant man past middle age.

"if you have been waiting to see me i am sorry for you," he said, after robert had stated the object of his visit. "i engaged a clerk less than an hour ago."

this was a set-back and the boy's face fell.

"i am sorry too," he said. "i imagine this office would just suit me."

"you can leave your name and address. perhaps the other young man may not be suitable. have you any recommendations?"

"i worked for mr. peter gray, the cut-rate ticket man. we were burnt out, and mr. gray doesn't know what he is going to do next."

"i know mr. gray, and if he can recommend[pg 138] you that will be sufficient. here is a sheet of paper. do you know what i pay a clerk at the start?"

"no, sir?"

"can you keep an ordinary set of books?"

"yes, sir."

"how about writing an ordinary business letter?"

"i wrote many letters for mr. gray."

"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."

"that would be satisfactory."

"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."

"i couldn't afford to lay back, sir."

"you have to support yourself?"

"i do."

"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.

[pg 139]

"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[pg 140] 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."

"lookin' fer sumthin', mister?"

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?"

"yes."

"thank you, that's all i wanted to know."

"goin' in to see mr. rogers?"

"i was thinking of it."

"better not go now?"

"why?"

"he jest came out of o'grady's saloon and he's more'n half full."

"do you mean drunk?"

"dat's it."

"then i don't think i care to see him."

"does he owe you anything?" went on the street urchin, with a coolness that swallowed up the impertinence of the question.

"no, he doesn't owe me anything. he ad[pg 141]vertised for a clerk and i had a notion i would strike for the situation," answered robert, who could not help but like the street lad, he had such an open, friendly face.

"he had a fight with one o' his clerks day before yesterday, an' the clerk got a black eye."

"indeed. and what did the clerk do?"

"i heard dad say he was going to have old rogers arrested, but rogers gave him some extry money to keep still about it."

"and that is the reason he wants a new clerk, eh?" said robert, with a short laugh. "well, i don't think i'll apply."

"couldn't you lick old rogers if he hit you first?"

"i wouldn't want to get into a fight with him."

"he's a terror when he's half drunk—my dad says so."

"does he work in the place?"

"yes, he's a butcher."

"and did he ever have any trouble?"

"lots of times. once old rogers followed my dad with a butcher knife, but dad up and knocked the knife from his hand with a club."

"and what did your father do then?"

"he was goin' to have old rogers locked up for salt the battery, or sumt'ing like that, but[pg 142] rogers he raised dad's wages a dollar a week, an' so dad didn't do nuthin."

"evidently mr. rogers thinks money will cover everything," said robert. "well, it wouldn't cover everything with me."

"i'd like to see old rogers git one good wallopin'—an' so would all of the boys around here. he won't let none of us around the packing house to see what's going on. he calls us all a set of thieves."

"he certainly must be a hard man to work for," concluded robert. "i don't want to go near him," and with this remark he walked back the way he had come.