"Be quick about it then, for I am in a hurry,"
answered Pitkin, in a very forbidding tone.
"Why am I
discharged, sir?"
"I can't go into details. We don't need you any
longer."
"Are you not satisfied with me?"
"No!" said Pitkin brusquely.
"In what respect have I failed to satisfy you,
sir?"
"Don't put on any airs, boy!" returned Pitkin.
"We don't want you, that's all."
"You might have given me a little notice," said
Phil indignantly.
"We made no stipulation of that kind, I believe."
"It would only be fair, sir."
"No impertinence, young man! I won't stand it!
I don't need any instructions as to the manner of
conducting my business."
Phil by this time perceived that his
discharge was
decided upon without any
reference to the way in
which he had performed his duties, and that any
discussion or remonstrance would be unavailing.
"I see, sir, that you have no regard for justice,
and will leave you," he said.
"You'd better, and without delay!" said Pitkin
irascibly.
Phil emerged upon the street with a sinking heart.
His
available funds consisted only of the money he
had just received and seventy-five cents in change,
and what he was to do he did not know. He walked
home with slow steps, looking sad in spite of his
usually
hopeful temperament.
When he entered the house he met Mrs. Forbush
in the hall. She at once noticed his gravity.
"Have you had any bad luck, Philip?" she asked.
"Yes," answered Phil. "I have lost my situation."
"Indeed!" returned the
landlady, with quick
sympathy. "Have you had any difficulty with your
employer?"
"Not that I am aware of."
"Did he
assign any reason for your
discharge?"
"No; I asked him for an
explanation, but he
merely said I was not wanted any longer."
"Isn't there any chance of his
taking you back?"
"I am sure there is not."
"Don't be discouraged, Philip. A smart boy like
you won't be long out of a place. Meanwhile you
are
welcome to stay here as long as I have a roof to
cover me."
"Thank you, Mrs. Forbush," said Phil warmly.
"you are a true friend. You are in trouble yourself,
yet you stand by me!"
"I have had a stroke of good luck to-day," said
Mrs. Forbush
cheerfully" target="_blank" title="ad.高兴地,愉快地">
cheerfully. "A former
boarder, whom
I allowed to remain here for five or six weeks when
he was out of
employment, has sent me thirty dollars
in
payment of his bill, from Boston, where he
found a position. So I shall be able to pay my rent
and have something over. I have been lucky, and
so may you."
Phil was cheered by the ready
sympathy of his
landlady, and began to take a more
cheerful view of
matters.
"I will go out bright and early on Monday and
see if I can't find another place," he said. "Perhaps
it may be all for the best."
Yet on the day succeeding he had some sober
hours. How
differently he had been
situated only
three months before. Then he had a home and
relatives. Now he was practically alone in the
world, with no home in which he could claim a
share, and he did not even know where his step-
mother and Jonas were. Sunday
forenoon he attended
church, and while he sat within its sacred
precincts his mind was tranquilized, and his faith
and
cheerfulness increased.
On Monday he bought the Herald, and made a
tour of
inquirywherever he saw that a boy was
wanted. But in each place he was asked if he could
produce a
recommendation from his last employer.
He
decided to go back to his old place and ask for
one, though he was very
reluctant to ask a favor of
any kind from a man who had treated him so shabbily
as Mr. Pitkin. It seemed necessary, however,
and he crushed down his pride and made his way to
Mr. Pitkin's private office.
"Mr. Pitkin!" he said.
"You here!" exclaimed Pitkin, scowling. "You
needn't ask to be taken back. It's no use."
"I don't ask it," answered Phil.
"Then what are you here for?"
"I would like a letter of
recommendation, that I
may
obtain another place."
"Well, well!" said Pitkin, wagging his head. "If
that isn't impudence."
"What is impudence?" asked Phil. "I did as
well as I could, and that I am ready to do for another
employer. But all ask me for a letter from
you."
"You won't get any!" said Pitkin abruptly.
"Where is your home?"
"I have none except in this city."
"Where did you come from?"
"From the country."
"Then I
advise you to go back there. You may
do for the country. You are out of place in the
city."
Poor Phil! Things did indeed look dark for him.
Without a letter of
recommendation from Mr. Pitkin
it would be almost impossible for him to secure
another place, and how could he
maintain himself
in the city? He didn't wish to sell papers or black
boots, and those were about the only paths now
open to him.
"I am having a rough time!" he thought, "but I
will try not to get discouraged."
He turned upon his heel and walked out of the
store.
As he passed the
counter where Wilbur was standing,
the young man said:
"I am
awfully sorry, Philip. It's a shame! If I
wasn't broke I'd offer to lend you a fiver."
"Thank you all the same for your kind offer, Wilbur,"
said Phil.
"Come round and see me."
"So I will--soon."
He left the store and wandered aimlessly about
the streets.
Four days later, sick with hope deferred, he made
his way down to the wharf of the Charleston and
Savannah boats, with a vague idea that he might get
a job of carrying
baggage, for he felt that he
must not let his pride
interfere with doing anything
by which he could earn an honest penny.
It so happened that the Charleston boat was just
in, and the passengers were just landing.
Phil stood on the pier and gazed listlessly at them
as they disembarked.
All at once he started in surprise, and his heart
beat joyfully.
There, just descending the gang-plank, was his
tried friend, Mr. Oliver Carter, whom he supposed
over a thousand miles away in Florida.
"Mr. Carter!" exclaimed Phil,
dashing forward.
"Philip!" exclaimed the old gentleman, much
surprised. "How came you here? Did Mr. Pitkin
send you?"
CHAPTER XXIII.
AN EXPLANATION.
It would be hard to tell which of the two was
the more surprised at the meeting, Philip or Mr.
Carter.
"I don't understand how Mr. Pitkin came to hear
of my return. I didn't telegraph," said the old
gentleman.
"I don't think he knows anything about it," said
Phil.
"Didn't he send you to the pier?"
"No, sir."
"Then how is it that you are not in the store at
this time?" asked Mr. Carter, puzzled.
"Because I am no longer in Mr. Pitkin's employ.
I was
discharged last Saturday."
"Discharged! What for?"
"Mr. Pitkin gave no reason. He said my services
were no longer required. He spoke
roughly to me,
and has since declined to give me a
recommendation,
though I told him that without it I should be
unable to secure
employment elsewhere."
Mr. Carter frowned. He was
evidently annoyed
and indignant.
"This must be inquired into," he said. "Philip,
call a
carriage, and I will at once go to the Astor
House and take a room. I had intended to go at
once to Mr. Pitkin's, but I shall not do so until I
have had an
explanation of this
outrageous piece of
business."
Phil was rejoiced to hear this, for he was at the
end of his resources, and the
outlook for him was
decidedly
gloomy. He had about made up his mind
to sink his pride and go into business as a newsboy
the next day, but the very
unexpectedarrival of Mr.
Carter put quite a new face on matters.
He called a
carriage, and both he and Mr. Carter
entered it.
"How do you happen to be back so soon, sir?"
asked Phil, when they were seated. "I thought you
were going to Florida for a couple of months."
"I started with that
intention, but on reaching
Charleston I changed my mind. I expected to find
some friends at St. Augustine, but I
learned that
they were already returning to the North, and I felt
that I should be
lonely and
decided to return. I
am very glad I did, now. Did you receive my
letter?"
"Your letter?" queried Philip, looking at Mr.
Carter in surprise.
"Certainly. I gave Alonzo a letter for you, which
I had directed to your boarding-house, and requested
him to mail it. It contained a ten-dollar bill."
"I never received any such letter, sir. It would