Ed stayed to watch, while I ran out to the avenue to get some help. It was a long time before I could find a policeman, and when we got back to the house there was Hostetter sitting on the curbstone hugging his belly. One of the thieves had come out of the house the back way, and when Ed tried to hold him had given him such a kick that Ed was glad to let him go. The officer I had brought evidently thought we were playing some game on him or weren't quite straight ourselves, and he tried to take us to the station. We gave him a lively chase for a couple of blocks; the last we saw of him he was shaking his fist at us and cussing loud enough to wake the dead. That day was much like the one before, only worse. The weather was mean and drizzly. I earned a quarter lugging a valise across the city, and we ate that up at breakfast. At noon we turned into one of the flashy saloons on State Street. We hoped to be overlooked in the crowd before the bar while we helped ourselves to the crackers and salt fish. We were making out pretty well when a man who was standing near the bar and drinking nothing spied us and came over to the lunch table. "Wet day," he observed sociably. "That's about it," I replied cautiously, looking the man over. He wore a long black coat, a dirty light-colored waistcoat, and a silk hat, underneath which little brown curls sprouted out. He fed himself delicately out of the common bowl, as if the free lunch didn't tempt his appetite. "Seeing the town?" he asked next, looking pointedly at Ed's dirty shoes. "Some part of it, I reckon," Ed laughed. "Looking for a job?" "You bet we're looking!" Ed growled back. "Know where we can find it?" Before long we were on easy terms with the stranger. He insisted on paying for beer all around, and on the strength of that Ed and I made another raid on a platter of beans. Dinner that night didn't look very promising. "It seems to me I know of the very thing for you young fellers," our friend finally remarked, and we pricked up our ears. He said he had a friend in one of the large stores on State Street, who had found fine places for some young men he had recommended. They were making big money now. Ed's eyes began to glisten. But suddenly another idea struck our good friend. He lowered his voice and drew us to one side. Would one of us like a fat job, where there wasn't much work except special times--a gay kind of place, where we could see something of life? Ed was pretty eager, but I rather suspected what he was after. "I guess the other place is more what we want," I said. "Ain't up to snuff just yet?" he giggled. "Wait a week or two, and you will be as quick as the next one." As we made no reply, and I was moving toward the door, he remarked:-- "Sure, it's stopped raining! Let's be moving up the street, and see what my friend can do for you."