The first was at a restaurant where a cashier was wanted. Robert found the resort to be anything but high-styled. It was on a side street and looked far from clean. "Well, a fellow can't be too particular," he thought, and marched inside without hesitation. "This way," said the head waiter, thinking he had come in to get something to eat. "I wish to see the proprietor," answered Robert. "He advertised for a cashier." "He's got one." "Oh, if that's so, excuse me for troubling you," and the boy turned on his heel to walk out. "Hold on," said the head waiter. "I don't think the new man suits Mr. Hinks entirely. Perhaps he'll give you a show after all. You'll find Mr. Hinks over at the pie counter yonder," and the waiter jerked his thumb in the direction. Robert walked to the counter and found a short, stout man in charge. The individual had a pair of crafty eyes that the boy did not at all admire. "I came to see about that position which you advertised," he said. "Yes? Have you had any experience?" "I worked in a cut-rate ticket office--the one that was burned out on Sunday last. I think I could do the work of an ordinary cashier." "No doubt you could, if you are used to handling money. Did you work for Gray?" "Yes, sir." "Well, I reckon he wouldn't have you unless you were all right," said Mr. Hinks. "I've got a new man on but he don't suit--he's too fussy and particular. Last night he left his desk and ran all the way to the sidewalk to give a man a dollar bill which he had forgotten." "Well, that shows he is honest," said Robert, with a laugh. "Yes, but my desk might have been robbed in the meantime." "I suppose that is true." "I don't want a man to be so honest as all that,--that is, with the customers,--although he must be honest with me. If a customer is foolish enough to leave his change behind, why let him lose it, that's my motto. What do you want a week?" "I was getting twelve dollars." "Phew! That's pretty stiff." "I might start in for less." "I never pay a man over five dollars." "I cannot live on five dollars, I am afraid." "Well, you pick up a good deal, you know," replied Mr. Hinks, and closed one eye suggestively. "You mean in the way of tips?" "Tips? Oh, no, they go to the waiters. But through making change and the like," and Mr. Hinks closed one eye again. Robert's face flushed. "Do you mean by giving people the wrong change?" he demanded indignantly. "I didn't say so. But I know almost every cashier picks up lots of extra money in one way and another." "Not if they are honest, sir. And I would not be dishonest--I would starve first. I am out for business, but not the kind of business you seem to expect of your employees." At this plain talk Mr. Hinks scowled darkly at Robert. "Here, here, I won't have you speak to me in this fashion," he blustered. "If you don't like the offer I've made you, you can get out."