After a couple of days' rest we set out to find jobs. We invaded Stamboul, Galata, Pera and Scutari, the three sections of Constantinople, and called on the American Consul, several large foreign mercantile houses, and a number of educational institutions. In nearly every instance we were dismissed with a laugh. Roberts College came to our rescue. Richardson received a position, if it could be elevated to such dignity by the appellation, which consisted of doing electric wiring in one of the college buildings at two dollars a day. Out of this he was to board and room himself. The best I could do was to become assistant instructor in physical culture in the gymnasium at thirty-five dollars a month and from this princely sum I was to pay for my board and clothe and shelter myself—in addition to providing for the many and sundry wants of an American in a strange land.
Richardson decided to accept and I to reject the respective posts. I concluded that I would rather starve moving than while stationary. We agreed to separate—Richardson to remain in Constantinople for a couple of months and I to continue on alone,—to meet later in London. Before our separation we made a systematic and tourist-like conquest of beautiful Constantinople. We went up the Bosporus and travelled in circles on the Black Sea. We explained the interesting but backward city itself. We made our way among the quaint bazaars and finally came to the Mosque of San Sophia. Here I took leave of Richardson and we planned to meet in London in a few months to cross the Atlantic to America together.
I did not have any itinerary. My plan was simply to go through Europe. I decided to go from Constantinople to Greece. The first-class fare to Athens was eighty francs. At this rate my supply of coin would not last long. I knew I could beat that. I visited several steamship offices along the waterfront in search of cheap passage.
Accompanied by a Greek, as an interpreter, I entered a dingy little office.
"When does the next boat leave for Piræus?" I inquired of a moon-faced man in uniform behind a counter.
"To-morrow morning at nine o'clock," was the reply by way of the interpreter.
"What is the fare?" I asked.
"Thirty francs," was the response.
"That's too much," I said, starting to walk away.
"What will you give?" asked the steamship company official.