“All well and happy. Had the best breakfast of a month past off what was left of last night’s supper.”
“I am glad to hear it,” said Harcourt, and he thought how little it took to make some people happy.
“You certainly brought me luck, young boss,” said the man.
“I am glad to hear that, also, if it is true; but I do not see how I could have done so.”
“Why, my luck turned last night, when you picked me out of the very jaws of hell—first, in the shape of a good meal for self and wife and kids, the first of any sort we had in two days; then a good night’s rest for all, which came from satisfied hunger; then a good breakfast from the fragments that remained; then, early this morning, a message from my old boss to come to work on Rue Street. My boss is in the employment of a contractor who is pulling down a row of tenement houses in Rue Street, to put up a row of fine buildings for stores. They say these houses have been condemned by the commissioners, and now they have got to go. Turn around and walk with me, boss, and I’ll tell you all about it. You see, I am on my way to work, and want to get there in good time.”
Harcourt turned about, and as they went on he asked his companion:
“Do you think that I could get work on that same job?”
“You, boss!” exclaimed Adler, stopping in his astonishment and gazing on the speaker.
“Yes; I am looking for a job,” quietly replied Harcourt.
“You—looking for a job—of that sort?”