"I was discharged this morning."
"What!"
Mr. Joyce's face betrayed resentment, anger, pity and curiosity, all in one.
"But believe me, sir, I am not to blame," went on Richard hastily. "I have done my work, and more, faithfully, and Mr. Mann would give no reason for discharging me."
"But there must have been some reason," exclaimed the leather merchant flatly. "No one sends away an efficient clerk without cause."
"Well, I can't make it out," replied the boy. "That's the reason I came to you. I'm sure I haven't done anything wrong, and I haven't been negligent."
Richard's earnest manner had its full effect upon Mr. Joyce.
"Well, tell me your story," he said. "Tell me every word of the plain truth. Unless you do that I can't help you a bit."
So Richard told of everything that had happened since he had gone to work—of his intimacy with the Massanets, his acquaintanceship with Earle Norris, the adventure at the Laurel Club, and all. Mr. Joyce listened in silence until the boy's story was concluded.
Then he put a number of questions, to make sure that nothing had been left out or covered up.