He reported next to Keimer, who was glad to welcome him back, especially so because he had considerable work on hand, and no person could turn it off like Benjamin. "Glad to see you, Ben. I suppose the governor will be round to see you when he hears of your arrival." Keimer spoke in a vein of pleasantry rather than as a fling. "Possibly, unless he should send for me to call on him. The governor of New York sent for me--Governor Burnet--what do you think of that?" "You are joking now, Ben; it can't be that all the governors are after you." "Well, the governor of New York was, and I went to see him." And Benjamin went on to describe his interview with Governor Burnet in detail, and how it came about, to which Keimer listened with the greatest interest and wonder. "Governor Burnet has the largest library in this country," continued Benjamin, "and judging from the number of books I had on the sloop, he concluded that I loved books, and so wanted to show me his." "Well," answered Keimer, after being in a sort of reverie some minutes, "if this thing goes on, you will not be willing to associate long with us fellows in the printing business." "I will give you due notice when I get to that. I will not cut your acquaintance suddenly." Benjamin could treat the matter jocosely as well as Keimer. To return to John Collins. He sought a position as clerk or bookkeeper in several stores; but was unsuccessful. Then he tried other kinds of work; but no one appeared to want him. Benjamin went with him to several places, to introduce him and intercede for him; but there was no opening for him. Days passed away, and still he was without a position; and he kept on drinking, too, not so beast-like as he did in New York, but enough to be more or less disguised. "It is your disgusting habit of intemperance; they smell your breath or study your face, and then don't want you around. I told you in Boston, that no one wants a drinking employee about." Benjamin's patience was nearly exhausted, and he spoke as he felt. "That is your surmise; you are a fanatic on drink, and are not capable of exercising sound judgement when you come to that," John replied with considerable temper. "And you would not be capable of keeping your soul and body together if it were not for my money. You have no regard at all for your word; a promise amounts to nothing with you, and never will until you stop drinking." "I shall not stop drinking until I get ready," retorted John, becoming very angry. "You are an insulting dog, when you get to attacking brandy."