Had there been a lantern nearby, as there should have been, Hiram would have taken it to search for the lost card. For he felt suddenly as though Opportunity had brushed past him.
The man in the carriage evidently lived out of town. He might be a prosperous farmer. And, being a farmer, he might be able to give Hiram just the sort of job he was looking for.
The card, of course, would have put Hiram in touch with the man. And he seemed like a hearty, good-natured individual.
“And the girl—his daughter—was as pretty as a picture,” thought Hiram, as he turned wearily toward the boarding house. “Well! I don't know that I'll ever see either of them again; but if I could learn that man's name and address I'd certainly look him up.”
So much did this thought disturb him that he was up an hour earlier than usual the next morning and hurried to work by the way of the excavation in the street where the incident had occurred.
But he could not find the card, although he got down into the ditch to search for it. The loose sand, perhaps, rattling down from the sides of the excavation during the night, had buried the bit of pasteboard, and Hiram went on to Dwight's Emporium more disheartened than ever.
The work there went worse that morning. Old Daniel Dwight drove the young fellow from one task to another. The other clerks got a minute's time to themselves now and then; but the proprietor of the store seemed to have his keen eyes on Hiram continually.
There was always a slow-up in the work about ten o'clock, and Hiram had a request to make. He asked Old Daniel for an hour off.
“An hour off—with all this work to do? What do you mean, boy?” roared the proprietor. “What do you want an hour for?”
“I've got an errand,” replied Hiram, quietly.