“Thank you, I shall be glad to do so,” answered Gray, with alacrity. Living as he did at a cheap boarding house, the prospect of a supper at a first-class hotel was very attractive. He was a pleasant-faced young man of twenty, who had drifted to Chicago from his country home in Indiana, and found it hard to make both ends meet on a salary of nine dollars a week. His habits were good, his manner was attractive and won him popularity with customer’s, and with patience he was likely to succeed in the end.
“I wish I could live like this every day,” he said, as he rose from a luxurious supper. “At present my finances won’t allow me to board at the Sherman.”
“Nor would mine,” said Carl; “but I am allowed to spend money more freely when I am traveling.”
“Are you acquainted in New York?” asked Gray.
“I have little or no acquaintance in the city,” answered Carl.
“I should be glad to get a position there.”
“Are you not satisfied with your present place?”
“I am afraid I shall not long keep it.”
“Why not? Do you think you are in any danger of being discharged?”
“It is not that. I am afraid Mr. French will be obliged to give up business.”