Richard stepped from the office to the lower floor of the warehouse.
The quantity of leather and hides on all sides filled him with wonder.
The place was several stories high, and was filled to overflowing with material soon to be worked up into shoes, pocketbooks, belting, gloves, baseball covers, and a thousand other articles for which this staple material of trade is needed. Several heavy trucks were loading and unloading at the doors, and the boy heard the workmen speak of a consignment to Buffalo, and another to Boston, and of a shipload that had just arrived from South America.
"It's a big business and no mistake," was Richard's conclusion. "I guess a person would have to be here half a lifetime to learn all the ins and outs of it."
When Richard returned to the office he found that Mr. Joyce had just cleared his desk, and was leaning back in his chair.
The leather merchant motioned him to a seat.
"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked abruptly.
"You seem to be doing a big business," returned Richard. "I think you must have enough leather to supply all New York."
"So I have—for a short time. But only a small part stays in the city.
It comes and goes all the while. Have you found a place yet?"
"No, sir; I haven't had a chance yet." And Richard related the particulars of his recent misfortune.
"Humph! Well, after all, experience is the only school we all learn in. I don't doubt but what you've seen the last of both money and letters. Keep your eyes open in the future."