Jarvis's jaw was set as he started downtown. He went to the wharf where the steamer lay, but there was only fifteen minutes left before her sailing. It was impossible to find out anything from anybody. So, with a sardonic calm, he watched the steamer slowly loosing from the wharf and making her stately exit. On the way uptown he made up his mind as to the next move. He would begin action to-day on the Charles Frohman forces. He must also try to find a job. His resources were about exhausted. At the Empire Theatre, where the king of managers rules, there was actually an elevator to carry one up to the throne room and its antechambers. At a window, in a sort of cashier's booth, a boy received Jarvis's manuscript, numbered and entered it on the file. "How soon will it be read?" Jarvis asked. "Oh, six weeks or so," said the youth. "No possible chance of seeing Mr. Frohman?" "Only by appointment. He is in Europe now." Jarvis relinquished his precious bundle and departed. It occurred to him, when he reached the street, that part of his depression was from hunger. He bought a sandwich and coffee at a Childs restaurant. Later, he went into a drug store and looked up magazine offices in the telephone book. Then he set out. From _Collier's_ to the _Cosmopolitan_ is many a weary mile. And Jarvis walked it, visiting all the intervening offices. In only one case did he get to the editor. Mr. Davis, of _Munsey's_, let him come in, and was decent to him, promised to read anything he sent in at once, took his address, and made him feel like a human being. Many a young writer besides Jarvis has to thank Mr. Bob Davis for just such a bit of encouragement. For the most part, he saw clerks or secretaries who made excuses for the editor, took his name and address with the same old "Come in again." Out in the hot sun the pavement wavered and melted into hillocks before his dizzy eyes. So he went back to the hot bedroom, which seemed, all at once, a haven of rest. He threw himself on the hard bed and was asleep in a second. It seemed aeons later that he was dragged up from the depths of slumber by continued pounding on his door. The slattern chambermaid announced that a gentleman wished to see him. He called to her it must be a mistake. He didn't know any gentlemen. "'E h'ast for Jarvis Jocelyn. 'Ere's 'is card," she retorted, opening the door and marching to the bed with it. "Richard Strong. Tell him I'm out." "Hi've already said you was in. Hi see you come hup." "The devil! Where is he?" "Coolin' 'is 'eels in the 'all." "Say I'll be down in a minute. Ask him to wait." "Hi get you," said she, and clomped out.