a changed name, was not a stylish inn.
It was rather dark and rather dingy, but Joe did not notice that particularly. He had never seen a fine hotel, and this structure, being four stories in height above the offices, seemed to him rather imposing than otherwise.
He walked up to the desk, on which was spread out, wide open, the hotel register. Rather a dissipated-looking clerk stood behind the counter, picking his teeth.
"Good morning, sir," said Joe politely. "What do you charge to stay here?"
"A dollar a day," answered the clerk.
"Can you give me a room?"
"I guess so, my son. Where is your trunk?"
"I haven't got any."
"Haven't you got any baggage?"
"Here it is."
The clerk looked rather superciliously at the small bundle.
"Then you'll have to pay in advance."
"All right," said Joe. "I'll pay a day in advance."
A freckle-faced boy was summoned, provided with the key of No. 161, and Joe was directed to follow him.
"Shall I take your bundle?" he asked.
"No, thank you. I can carry it myself."
They went up-stairs, until Joe wondered when they were going to stop. Finally the boy paused at the top floor, for the very good reason that he could get no higher, and opened the door of 161.
"There you are," said the boy. "Is there anything else you want?"
"No, thank you."
"I'm sorry there ain't a bureau to keep your clothes," said the freckle-faced boy, glancing at Joe's small bundle with a smile.
"It is inconvenient," answered Joe, taking the joke.
"You wouldn't like some hot water for shaving, would you?" asked the boy, with a grin.
"You can have some put on to heat and I'll order it when my beard is grown," said Joe good-naturedly.
"All right. I'll tell 'em to be sure and have it ready in two or three years."
"That will be soon enough. You'd better order some for yourself at the same time."
"Oh, I get in hot water every day."
The freckle-faced boy disappeared, and Joe sat down on the bed, to reflect a little on his position and plans.
So here he was in New York, and on the way to California, too—that is, he hoped so. How much can happen in a little while. Three days before he had not dreamed of any change in his position.
"I hope I shan't have to go back again to Oakville. I won't go unless I am obliged to," he determined.
He washed his hands and face, and went down-stairs. He found that dinner was just ready. It was not a luxurious meal, but, compared with the major's rather frugal table, there was great variety and luxury. Joe did justice to it.
"Folks live better in the city than they do in the country," he thought; "but, then, they have to pay for it. A dollar a day! Why, that would make three hundred and sixty-five dollars a year!"
This to Joe seemed a very extravagant sum to spend on one person's board and lodging.
"Now," thought Joe, after dinner was over, "the first thing for me to find out is when the California steamer starts and what is the lowest price I can go for."
In the barroom Joe found a file of two of the New York daily papers, and began to search for the advertisement of the California steamers.
At last he found it.
The steamer was to start in three days. Apply for passage and any information at the company's offices.
"I'll go right down there, and find out whether I've got money enough to take me," Joe decided.
CHAPTER VI
The office of the steamer was on the wharf from which it was to start. Already a considerable amount of freight was lying on the wharf ready to be loaded. Joe made his way to the office.
"Well, boy, what's your business?" inquired a stout man with a red face, who seemed to be in charge.
"Is this the office of the California steamer, sir?"
"Yes."
"What is the lowest price for passage?"
"A hundred dollars for the steerage."
When Joe heard this his heart sank within him. It seemed to be the death-blow to his hopes. He had but fifty dollars, or thereabouts, and there was no chance whatever of getting the extra fifty.
"Couldn't I pay you fifty dollars now and the rest as soon as I can earn it in California?" he pleaded.
"We don't do business in that way."
"I'd be sure to pay it, sir, if I lived," said Joe. "Perhaps you think I am not honest."
"I don't know whether you are or not," said the agent cavalierly.
"We never do business in that way."
Joe left the office not a little disheartened.
"I wish it had been a hundred dollars Aunt Susan left me," he said to himself.
Joe's spirits were elastic, however. He remembered that Seth had never given him reason to suppose that the money he had would pay his passage by steamer. He had mentioned working his passage in a sailing-vessel round the Horn. Joe did not like that idea so well, as the voyage would probably last four months, instead of twenty-five days, and so delay his arrival.
The afternoon slipped away almost without Joe's knowledge. He walked about, here and there, gazing with curious eyes at the streets, and warehouses, and passing vehicles, and thinking what a lively place New York was, and how different life was in the metropolis from what it had been to him in the quiet country town which had hitherto been his home. Somehow it seemed to wake Joe up, and excite his ambition, to give him a sense of power which he had never felt before.
"If I could only get a foothold here," thought Joe, "I should be willing to work twice as hard as I did on the farm."
This was what Joe thought. I don't say that he was correct. There are many country boys who make a mistake in coming to the city. They forsake quiet, comfortable homes, where they have all they need, to enter some city counting-room, or store, at starvation wages, with, at best, a very remote prospect of advancement and increased risk of falling a prey to temptation in some of the many forms which it assumes in a populous town. A boy needs to be strong, and self-reliant, and willing to work if he comes to the city to compete for the prizes of life. As the story proceeds, we shall learn whether Joe had these necessary qualifications.
When supper was over he went into the public room of the Commercial Hotel, and took up a paper to read. There was a paragraph about California, and some recent discoveries there, which he read with avidity.
