"Oh, Mr. Bickford," said the landlord, with a glance of recognition. "Well, that's enough. I'll take you. James, take this boy to the kitchen, and give him some supper. Then tell him what's to be done. What's your name, boy?"
"Very well, Tony, I'll give you three dollars a week and your board as long as we suit each other."
"I've got into business sooner than I expected," thought Tony.
The hostler set him to work in the barn, and though he was new to the work, he quickly understood what was wanted, and did it.
"You work twice as fast as Sam," said the hostler, approvingly.
"Won't Sam be mad when he finds I have taken his place?" asked Tony.
"Probably he will, but it's his own fault."
"He's no more sick than I am. He only wants to get a day or two off."
"Well, I'm glad he left a vacancy for me," said Tony.
"Where did you work last?" asked the hostler.
"Were you rich?" asked James, rather impressed by Tony's answer.
"No; I just went round and lived as I could. I didn't like it, but I couldn't help it. I had to go where Rudolph chose to lead me."
"I don't know. I got tired of being a tramp, and ran away from him."
"You did right," said James, who was a steady man, and looked forward to a snug home of his own ere long. "All the same, Mr. Porter wouldn't have taken you if he had known you were a tramp."
"I hope you won't tell him, then. I don't want to be a tramp any longer."
"No; I won't tell him. I want you to stay here. I'd rather have you than Sam."
Tony was assigned to a room in the attic. There were two beds in this chamber, one being occupied by James. He slept soundly, and was up betimes in the morning. After breakfast, Mr. Bickford, the tin peddler, made ready to start.
"Good-by, Tony," he said, in a friendly manner. "I'm glad you've got a place."
"I wouldn't have got it if I hadn't you to refer to," said Tony.
"The landlord didn't ask how long I'd known you," said Bickford, smiling. "However, I guess I know enough of you to give you a recommend. Good luck to you."
As the peddler drove away, Tony noticed a big, overgrown boy, who was just entering the hotel yard.
"That's Sam," said the hostler. "He don't know he's lost his place."
Sam was about two inches taller than Tony, red haired and freckled, with a big frame, loosely put together. He was a born bully; and many were the tricks he had played on smaller boys in the village. He liked his place at the hotel because he was no longer obliged to go to school; but he was too lazy to fulfill the duties satisfactorily. His father was a blacksmith, of surly disposition, very much like Sam's, who was generally believed to ill-treat his wife, a meek, uncomplaining woman, who filled the position of a household drudge.
