"I don't think we shall require your services," said the merchant, coldly.
He turned away, as if to intimate that the conference was at an end.
Scott was depressed. He saw that any explanation he might give of his leaving his former place would only injure him. Yet, almost everywhere the question would be asked.
This made him feel all the more that he had been very unjustly treated by Ezra Little. He had been required to plead guilty to a theft which he had not committed, and to replace the money lost with money of his own. He had very properly declined to do this, and now he was thrown out of employment, with very little chance of securing another place.
Several days passed, and Scott must have made application for a hundred situations. But his luck did not improve. One obstacle was a general business depression which made employers averse to hiring new employees.
And all the while his scanty funds were diminishing. He sought out cheap restaurants and limited his orders to the barest necessities, but still his money melted away till at length he was reduced to fifty cents. Besides, his week was about out and he would be called upon to pay a second week's rent.
This was, of course, out of the question. Poor Scott was deeply perplexed. He began to think it would have been better if he had complied with Ezra Little's demand for the five-dollar bill. It was about gone now, and he was without an income.
He chanced to be passing the Gilsey House at four o'clock in the afternoon, when he heard his name called.
Looking up, he recognized the familiar face of Justin Wood, whom he had not met for some weeks.