"I'll have the money in a day or two."
"You needn't come back to dinner unless you bring the money to pay your bill. I can't afford to give you your board."
Mr. Martin rose and left the house, understanding pretty clearly that he couldn't return. On reaching the street, he opened his pocket-book, and ascertained that twelve cents were all it contained. This small amount was not likely to last very long. He decided to go to New York, having no further inducements to keep him in Brooklyn. Something might turn up, he reasoned, in the shiftless manner characteristic of him.
Jumping upon a passing car, he rode down to Fulton Ferry, and crossed in the boat to the New York side, thus expending for travelling expenses eight cents.
Supposing that Rufus still sold papers in front of the "Tribune" office, he proceeded to Printing House Square, and looked around for him; but he was nowhere to be seen.
"Who you lookin' for, gov'nor?" inquired a boot-black, rather short of stature, but with an old-looking face.
"Aint you the boy that went home with me Wednesday?" asked Martin, to whom Ben Gibson's face looked familiar.
"S'posin' I am?"
"Have you seen a newsboy they call Rough and Ready, this morning?"
"Yes, I seed him."