Joe spoke the truth. Though doing what he thought was the best for his foster-son, Mr. Blackford was a harsh man. And he did not seem to realize that Joe was growing up. He made no allowances for that.
“I’m going to quit,” Joe told himself. “I’m going to light out. I haven’t much money,” and he looked at the sum in a box that, since he was a little fellow, had served him as a “bank.”
“It won’t take me far,” Joe mused. “I can’t travel in a Pullman car, that’s sure. That is, not one of the regular ones. A side-door Pullman for mine!” and Joe smiled as he thought of the tramp’s designation of a freight car.
“And after I quit here—well, I guess I can find something to do. I ought to be able to make my living.”
Joe laid out his money, and then, rather idly, he began palming coins, doing various tricks with them, sending them spinning up in the air seemingly to vanish.
“A little out of order,” Joe said, as he missed one trick. “I’ll have to practice.”
As Joe put the money in his pocket his fingers came in contact with a paper. He drew it out. It was the list of towns where Professor Rosello would play.
“That’s what I’ll do,” decided the young wizard. “I’ll go to him. He said he’d help me if he could. I don’t imagine he is very rich, but he’s good. And if he can’t give me anything else he can advise me. I need that, I’m thinking.”
It was now late afternoon, almost time for supper, and Joe wondered whether he would get anything to eat.
“I’ll go whether I do or not,” he said. “I can buy something after I’m away from here, for I sure am going.”