"Thank you; the same to you," replied Richard sincerely.
It was a cozy apartment, and the boy had not been in it over five minutes before he felt perfectly at home. Before retiring he sat down to write the promised letter home.
He had no ink; but paper and envelopes had been brought along, and in half an hour his lead pencil had filled several sheets with a very creditable account of what had transpired.
This done he undressed and retired, not, however, before thanking God for his kind care, and asking for His help and guidance during whatever was to follow.
Despite the varied fortunes of his trip, the boy's sleep was a sound one, and it lacked but a few minutes to seven when he awoke in the morning.
A basin of clean water stood on a stand at the foot of the bed, and after a plunge into this, he dressed, combed his hair, and went below.
Of course the restaurant was already comfortably filled, and as a matter of fact, had been for over an hour.
"Hello, my hearty! on deck I see," called out Doc Linyard. "I hope you slept well in your strange bunk." "First rate," was Richard's reply. "And longer than I expected, too. Guess I'll start right out to look for work.
"Not afore you've had some breakfast. Sit down, and I'll fetch you some coffee and biscuits. Here's the morning papers; you can look 'em over—the Male Help Wanted column. Reckon you'll find something worth trying for."
Finding remonstrances of no avail, Richard sat down and allowed himself to be helped to a morning repast.