"'Caus he'd be away from home so long if he wasn't allowed to walk any faster than you can."
"Think you're funny, don't you?" and the fat boy made ready to resume his interrupted nap.
Before Jet could turn his attention to the tariff again the boy at the desk called loudly: "Number forty-eight!" and he went forward quickly, well pleased that something had occurred to break the monotony.
A summons had come from one of the hotels near by, and on answering it he found nothing of more importance than to carry a letter to a certain house in the immediate vicinity, but to Jet it was particularly agreeable work, since he was given ten cents more than the regular fee.
"If all the messages turn out like this one I shall have a mighty good thing of it," he said to himself, in a tone of satisfaction as he returned to the station.
Jet was called upon only twice more during this first day of his new work, and when he went home it was with the pleasing knowledge that he had received as presents fifteen cents.
On the following morning he was at his post so early that some of the "night boys" made sport of him for appearing at such an hour, predicting that in less than a week he would have "sense enough to stay at home till he was wanted."
He was not allowed to remain idle very long, however.
"Number forty-eight!" the man at the desk called sharply, and Jet leaped to his feet.
"Go to No. — East Fourteenth Street. Here is your slip."