"Two dollars a week would not go far towards supporting a family of five," sighed Richard, as he walked away. "And then to be a house painter all one's life! I must strike something else."
But "striking something else" was no easy matter, as the boy soon learned. A visit to the two stores, the blacksmith shop and to several people whom he thought might give him employment, brought forth no results of value. Either they had nothing for him to do, or else the pay offered was altogether too small.
Richard returned home late in the afternoon. Grace met him at the end of the lane.
"Any luck, Dick?" she asked eagerly.
"No," he replied, and related his experience.
"Never mind," returned his sister. "Maybe it isn't so bad after all.
The minister is here."
"Mr. Cook?"
"Yes, he's in the parlor talking to mamma, and I heard them mention your name, and say something about New York."
Richard's heart gave a bound. He knew that Mr. Cook, who was their old family pastor, had great influence with his mother, and that she would probably go to him for advice.
"Guess I'll go in and hear what he has to say," said Richard, and a moment later he knocked on the parlor door and entered.