CHAPTER III.
AN EVENING WITH BOB HUNTER.
Chilly from approaching night and strengthening wind, and depressed by a disheartening sense of loneliness and a keen realization of failure on the first day of his new career, Herbert felt homesick and almost discouraged.
At length he joined the passers by, and walked quickly until opposite City Hall Park. He crossed Broadway and soon found himself at young Bob Hunter’s “place of business.” The latter was “in,” and very glad he seemed to see his new friend again. His kindly grasp of the hand and hearty welcome acted like magic upon Herbert Randolph; but his wretchedly disheartened look did not change in time to escape the keen young newsboy’s notice.
“Didn’t strike it rich today, did you?” said he, with a smile.
“No,” replied Herbert sadly.
“Didn’t find no benevolent old gentleman—them as is always looking for poor boys to help along and give ’em money and a bang up time?”
“I did not see any such philanthropist looking for me,” answered Herbert, slightly puzzled, for the newsboy’s face was seriousness itself.
“Well, that is all fired strange. I don’t see how he missed you, for they takes right to country boys.”
“I did not start out very early,” remarked Herbert doubtfully, and with heightened color.