After learning the Russian's sad story Edward felt that his own misfortune was not near so great as Ben's, and he decided to do all in his power to help his new friend, at least in a moral way. Benjamin Oresky was twenty-one years old; indescribable suffering had caused premature wrinkles in his handsome face, and the streaks of silver in his black curly hair told of unhappiness, while in his brown eyes shone a light born of martyrdom. The brotherly love that had sprung up between these two young men was the result of a condition of circumstances that brought this mystic virtue in all its purity. It came to their souls like a soothing balm, and it gave birth to ambitions that otherwise would never have been felt. They were each other's confidant. Their interests were mutual, and in their friendship they found the nucleus of courage to hold them up in days of adversity. Edward's old dreams of fortune came back, and he succeeded in getting his new friend to share some of them. A partnership was arranged between the two, and from this time Edward began to peddle frames from house to house. It was hard and far from the realization of his old dreams, but it was better than starvation, and the hope of better days, combined with the example of the Russian, gave him courage to follow this rather humble trade. At times, when they met at night, after a lucky day and counted their receipts, they were elated, while other times, not being so fortunate, they felt discouraged. More than once, Edward decided to write home for money, but at the last minute his pride stopped him. "No, never! I will not let them know that I am poor, humiliated, a failure!" It had been decided that they would go west as soon as they would have saved the necessary capital, and at last, after three months of hard work and close economy, they found that they had enough money to abandon the frame business and start for the West.