He had been so often misled by promises that it was only his wholesome Celtic faith and prompt capacity to rebound which kept him from becoming entirely blasé.
His experience, however, left him alert. So he applied industriously at various establishments for employment, and received his first lessons in the courteous duplicity which ostentatiously files the application for future reference, and the cruel kindness of frank rebuff.
On the morning of the third day of this futile foray, Dennis noticed that the exposed bosom of his dickey was not altogether presentable.
It appeared to have registered the record of his applications and failures, and, as such, was not a good campaign document, so to speak.
Having progressed in his simple toilet up to the point of embellishment, he proceeded to tear away the soiled surface, and in doing so discovered not only the clean bosom beneath, but that the rear of the one just detached was covered with a block of minute print.
Drawing the solitary chair close to the window, he read by the light of early dawn the following extraordinary compilation.
CHAPTER II
In the city of —— there lived one Rodman Raikes, unpopularly known as the “Fist.”