CHAPTER XXIII
NED’S PREDICAMENT
When Ned awakened Thursday morning in the lodging house and, on looking from the window saw that it was snowing, his unpleasant position came forcibly to him.
“This is nice,” he reflected as he put on his shoes. “It’s as cold as Greenland out of doors, and I’m down to—let’s see what my cash capital is, anyhow.”
He fumbled in the change pocket of his overcoat, and found a few coins.
“Thirty cents,” he murmured as he looked at them. “There’s enough for three five-cent meals, and enough to pay for a bed to-night. I’ll need the bed too, if this storm keeps up.”
He finished dressing and went to the window to look out. It was anything but a pleasant day on which to look for work. The wind had blown the snow into big drifts, and the white flakes were still falling. It was cold too, as he could tell by the draught that came in around the window.
“Come now, everybody clear out!” called a voice, and one of the porters of the lodging house appeared with a pail and broom. “Got to clean up the place. Fifteen cents doesn’t mean you fellers can make a hotel of this place and hang around all day. Clear out!”