“First class!” answered Peter, promptly.
“Were you ever in Seneca?”
“Once.”
“You know the way, then?”
“Yes; straight ahead.”
“The landlord of the hotel there offered me a place, to work round the hotel and stable, for five dollars a month and board.”
“Why didn’t you take it?”
“I didn’t care to, just now.”
“I wish I could get it,” said Peter, wistfully.
“I think you can. Go straight there, and tell the landlord you were sent to him by a boy you met on the road. He’ll know it was I who sent you, and I shouldn’t wonder if you’d get the place.”