And for one little short errand. Could that really be the way things went here? It couldn't be, really. It wasn't possible—not always.
And then, his feet sinking in the soft nap of the carpet, his hand in one pocket clutching the money, he felt as if he could squeal or laugh out loud. Why, thirty-five cents—and for a little service like that. This man had given him a quarter and the other a dime and he hadn't done anything at all.
He hurried from the car at the bottom—the strains of the orchestra once more fascinated him, the wonder of so well-dressed a throng thrilling him—and made his way to the bench from which he had first departed.
And following this he had been called to carry the three bags and two umbrellas of an aged farmer-like couple, who had engaged a parlor, bedroom and bath on the fifth floor. Enroute they kept looking at him, as he could see, but said nothing. Yet once in their room, and after he had promptly turned on the lights near the door, lowered the blinds and placed the bags upon the bag racks, the middle-aged and rather awkward husband—a decidedly solemn and bewhiskered person—studied him and finally observed: “Young fella, you seem to be a nice, brisk sort of boy—rather better than most we've seen so far, I must say.”
“I certainly don't think that hotels are any place for boys,” chirped up the wife of his bosom—a large and rotund person, who by this time was busily employed inspecting an adjoining room. “I certainly wouldn't want any of my boys to work in 'em—the way people act.”
“But here, young man,” went on the elder, laying off his overcoat and fishing in his trousers pocket. “You go down and get me three or four evening papers if there are that many and a pitcher of ice-water, and I'll give you fifteen cents when you get back.”
“This hotel's better'n the one in Omaha, Pa,” added the wife sententiously. “It's got nicer carpets and curtains.”
And as green as Clyde was, he could not help smiling secretly. Openly, however, he preserved a masklike solemnity, seemingly effacing all facial evidence of thought, and took the change and went out. And in a few moments he was back with the ice-water and all the evening papers and departed smilingly with his fifteen cents.
But this, in itself, was but a beginning in so far as this particular evening was concerned, for he was scarcely seated upon the bench again, before he was called to room 529, only to be
