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CHAPTER XXV.
Without a Penny

THERE is nothing that makes one feel helpless as to be without a penny in a strange city. If Jed had had even a dollar he would have felt better.

The fact of his poverty was emphasized when a boy came up to him and asked him to buy a morning paper. Jed instinctively felt in his pocket for a penny, but not even a cent was forthcoming.

"I have no change," he said, by way of excuse.

"I can change a dollar," responded the newsboy, who was more than usually enterprising.

"I wish I could," thought Jed, but he only said, "No, it is no matter."

So he walked along Broadway, fairly well dressed, but, so far as money went, a paaper. Yes, though no longer an inmate of the Scranton poorhouse, he was even poorer than when he was there, for then he had a home, and now he had none.

"I wonder when it is all going to end?" reflected poor Jed despondently. Then his anger was excited when he thought of the unprincipled rascal who had brought him to this pass.

"If I could only get hold of him," muttered Jed vengefully, "I would give him something to remember me by."

All the while Jed walked on, though his walk was aimless. He was as well off in one part of the city as another, and only walked to fill up time.

He found himself passing a drug store. Just outside the door he saw the sign "Boy wanted," and with a little kindling of hope he entered the store.

Just behind the counter stood a man with a sandy beard, who appeared to be the proprietor. To him Jed addressed himself.

"I see you want a boy," he said.

"Yes; do you want a place?"

"Yes. sir."

"I hardly think you would be satisfied with the wages we pay, unless you particularly wish to learn our business."

"What do you pay, sir?"

"Three dollars a week."

Three dollars a week! It was certainly better than no income at all, but Jed knew well that it would be impossible to live on this sum, and he had no reserve fund to draw upon.

"No," he said, "I am afraid I couldn't get along on that salary."

"Are you entirely dependent on your earnings?" asked the druggist.

"Yes, sir."

"Have you parents residing in the city?"

"No, sir; I am all alone."

"That would be an objection. We prefer to employ those who live at home."

"Do most employers require that, sir?"

"Many do."

Here a customer came in and asked for a bottle of cough medicine, and the druggist turned away to fill the order. Jed walked slowly out of the store.

"I wonder whether there is any work for me anywhere?" he asked himself despondently.

Jed continued his walk down Broadway. It was a bright, clear, exhilarating day, and Jed would have enjoyed it thoroughly if he had been better fixed, but it is hard to keep up the spirits when your pocket is empty.

When Jed reached City Hall Park he went in and sat down on one of the benches.

One of the boy bootblacks who carry on business in the park came up to him with his box on his shoulder and asked, "Shine your boots?"

Jed shook his head.

"Not this morning," he replied.

"They need it," said the boy.

Jed looked at his boots, and was fain to admit that the boy was right. But he was not possessed of the necessary nickel.

"Yes, they do need it," he said, "but I haven't money enough to pay you for doing it."

"Only five cents."

"I haven't five cents. I'm poorer than you are, my boy." said Jed in a burst of confidence. The boy looked puzzled.

"You don't look like it," he said after scrutinizing Jed's appearance. "How did you come to be so poor?"

"Had all my money stolen last night."

"How much was there?"

"Thirty five dollars."

"Whew!" whistled the bootblack. "That was a haul. Who did it?"

"A young man I fell in with. He invited me to share his room. I woke this morning to find that he had stolen all my money."

"He was a snide, he was! I'd like to step on his necktie."

"I'd like to do something of that sort myself," said Jed with a smile.

"Would you know him if you saw him again?"

"Yes; I shan't forget him very soon."

"When you do see him hand him over to a cop. Just hold out your foot," and the boy got down in a position to black Jed's shoe.

"But I haven't any money. I can't pay you."

"I'll do it for nothin', seein' as you're down on your luck. You can pay me some time when times is better."

"I am afraid you will have to wait a good while for your money."

"Never mind! It won't kill me if I lose it."

"You're very kind to a stranger," said Jed, grateful for the boy's friendly offer.

"Oh, it ain't nothin'. You look like a good fellow. You'll get a place quicker if your shoes look nice."

There was something practical in this suggestion, and Jed accepted the offer without further hesitation. The boy exerted himself specially, and Jed's dirty shoes soon showed a dazzling polish.

"There, you can see your face in 'em!" exclaimed the boy, as he rose from his knees.

"Thank you," said Jed. "I see you understand your business. Will you tell me your name?"

"Jim Parker."