“That’s right, mister; I’ll help you do it any time,” said his new friend.
“I wish I knew where to find Sam Crawford,” said Joshua, in perplexity. “Is this Eighth avenue?”
“Yes.”
“Sam is in a shoe store somewhere in this street.”
“Why don’t you go into every store, and ax ’em if he works there. I’ll go with you for fifty cents.”
But Joshua thought, very justly, that this was something in which he required no help, and did not therefore feel disposed to throw away any more money. He began to think that New York was a very extensive place, where it was quite necessary to be on the look-out for swindlers. If he could only find Sam Crawford, for whose knowledge of life he had high respect, he would, undoubtedly, be all right; but there were difficulties in the way. Still, he was not without hope. If he inquired in every shoe store on the avenue, he must come across him after a while.
We are often very near the truth without suspecting it. The store of which Joshua was in search was in reality on the next block below the one which he had entered; but, ignorant of this, he directed his steps uptown, and very soon found another store.
“Does Sam Crawford work here?” he asked, entering.
“No, he don’t; but I’ll sell you a pair of shoes or boots as cheap as he will.”
“I don’t want to buy anything. Sam Crawford is a friend of mine; I want to find him.”