The gentleman returned to his writing, and Ben saw that his case was hopeless. His disappointment was greater than before, for he liked the looks of the proprietor, if, as he judged, this was he. Besides, boys were wanted, and his size would be no objection, judging from the appearance of the other boys in the store. So he had been sanguine of success. Now he saw that there was an objection which he could not remove, and which would be very likely to stand in his way in other places. CHAPTER IV. A RESTAURANT ON FULTON STREET. Ben kept on his way, looking in at the shop windows as before. He had not yet given up the idea of getting a place in a store, though he began to see that his chances of success were rather small. The next pause he came to was before a bookstore. Here, too, there was posted on the window:-- "BOY WANTED." Ben entered. There were two or three persons behind the counter. The oldest, a man of forty, Ben decided to be the proprietor. He walked up to him, and said, "Do you want a boy?" "Yes," said the gentleman. "We want a boy to run of errands, and deliver papers to customers. How old are you?" "Ten years old." "That is rather young." "I'm pretty strong of my age," said Ben, speaking the truth here, for he was rather larger and stouter than most boys of ten. "That is not important, as you will not have very heavy parcels to carry. Are you well acquainted with the streets in this part of the city?" This question was a poser, Ben thought. He was at first tempted to say yes, but decided to answer truthfully. "No, sir," he answered. "Do you live in the lower part of the city?" "Yes, sir; that is, I'm going to live there." "How long have you lived in the city?" "I only arrived this morning," Ben confessed, reluctantly. "Then I'm afraid you will not answer my purpose. We need a boy who is well acquainted with the city streets." He was another disqualification. Ben left the store a little discouraged. He began to think that it would be harder work making a living than he had supposed. He would apply in two or three more stores, and, if unsuccessful, he must sell papers or black boots. Of the two he preferred selling papers. Blacking boots would soil his hands and his clothes, and, as it was possible that he might some day encounter some one from his native village, he did not like to have the report carried home that he had become a New York boot-black. He felt that his education and bringing up fitted him for something better than that. However, it was not necessary to decide this question until he had got through applying for a situation in a store. He tried his luck again, and once was on the point of being engaged at three dollars per week, when a question as to his parents revealed the fact that he was without a guardian, and this decided the question against him. "It's of no use," said Ben, despondently. "I might as well go back."