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Richard Dare's Venture; Or, Striking Out for Himself Part 19

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"I'll try to. I shall not forget this lesson in a hurry."

"But at the same time don't be too suspicious of everybody with whom you may chance to come in contact."

"I'll remember what you say, sir."

"Now about finding you a situation. I wish I had an opening here for you. I'd make a business chap of you."

"I should like to work for you, Mr. Joyce."

"Unfortunately, there is no room at present--that is, there is nothing I can offer you."

"I'll take anything you'll give me," exclaimed Richard earnestly.

"Yes; but you can't do _any_thing. You can't drive a truck--here in the city--and you don't know a thing about packing hides. Besides, such work would be altogether too heavy for you, and it never pays the wages that lighter but more intelligent labor receives."

"I suppose you are right, sir."

"I am. I don't want to gloss things over for you. It's the worst thing in the world for a young fellow just starting out to have a rosy view of the business world, which is composed of steady work and hard knocks, about equally mixed. You've got too much brains to work altogether with your hands; and one must find out what he is best suited to. How would you like to get into the book and stationery line?"

"Very much indeed."

"Do you think you could make anything out of it? Make it _the_ business of your life, so that you would stand some show of advancement on the strength of the interest you took in it?"

"I think I could," replied Richard slowly, somehow deeply moved by Mr.

Joyce's earnestness. "I always liked books--not only to read them, but to handle and to arrange them as well. At home I was the librarian of our Sunday-school, and I got out the catalogue and all that. Of course it was not a great work, but I enjoyed it, and often wished I might have charge of a big library or something like that."

Mr. Joyce eyed the boy thoughtfully.

"Reckon I was right. Thought you'd take to books. Persons with your kind of a forehead always do. Well, come along. I'll see what I can do toward getting you a place with a friend of mine."

Locking up his desk, Mr. Joyce put on his hat and led the way out on the street.

"We'll have to hurry," he said, "or we'll find my friend has gone home."

Richard needed no urging. With a strangely light heart he kept close behind the leather merchant.

They pa.s.sed along several blocks, and at length turned into Beekman Street.

"Here we are," said Mr. Joyce, finally. "This is my friend's place of business."

CHAPTER XIV.

WORK OBTAINED.

The establishment to which the leather merchant had brought Richard was an imposing one, situated in a ma.s.sive stone building, and having large and heavy plate gla.s.s doors and windows. A formidable array of blank-books and sets of well-known authors' works were piled up in the window which bore the firm's name:

WILLIAMS & MANN.

Directly to the left of the entrance inside, stood a great safe, and further on appeared an almost interminable row of shelves and drawers, all apparently crammed with articles pertaining to the stationery and book trade.

Stepping up to a salesman Mr. Joyce inquired:

"Is Mr. Williams in?"

"Mr. Williams has gone to Chicago," was the polite reply.

"Chicago, eh? When will he be back?"

"We expect him back day after to-morrow; possibly to-morrow afternoon."

"Humph!" Mr. Joyce rubbed his chin. "Is Mr. Mann about?"

"Yes, sir; just gone up to the stock-room."

"Tell him I'd like to see him for a few minutes."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Joyce, I believe."

"That's the name."

"I'll send word at once. Won't you sit down?"

"Thanks."

Mr. Joyce sank into an office chair.

Going to a speaking tube behind one of the broad counters, the salesman sent his message up to one of the floors above.

"Mr. Mann will be down directly," he said, after a moment.

In five minutes a stout, bald-headed gentleman of fifty came down by the elevator at one side, and stepped forward.

"How are you, Tim?" he exclaimed, thrusting out a chubby hand.

"First rate, Mel," returned Mr. Joyce. "This is a young friend of mine, Richard Dare," he continued.

Mr. Mann shook hands cordially.

"He has come to the city to try his luck," went on the leather merchant.

"He has a taste for your line, so I brought him around to see if you hadn't an opening for him."

Now an application made in this way, and coming from an ordinary source, would have met with a courteous negative. But the firm of Williams & Mann were under obligations to Mr. Joyce, who had on several occasions indorsed their notes for many thousands of dollars. Besides, all three men were old friends; so Mr. Mann gave the request every attention.

"We are rather full of hands," he said slowly; "but still I might find room for him. Have you had any business training?" he continued, turning to Richard.

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