The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success by Horatio Alger, Jr. Chapter 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

On Monday he bought the Herald, and made a tour of inquiry wherever he saw that a boy was wanted. But in each place he was asked if he could produce a recommendation from his last employer. He decided to go back to his old place and ask for one, though he was very reluctant to ask a favor of any kind from a man who had treated him so shabbily as Mr. Pitkin. It seemed necessary, however, and he crushed down his pride and made his way to Mr. Pitkin’s private office.

”Mr. Pitkin!“ he said.

”You here!“ exclaimed Pitkin, scowling. ”You needn’t ask to be taken back. It’s no use.“

”I don’t ask it,“ answered Phil.

”Then what are you here for?“

”I would like a letter of recommendation, that I may obtain another place.“

”Well, well!“ said Pitkin, wagging his head. ”If that isn’t impudence.“

”What is impudence?“ asked Phil. ”I did as well as I could, and that I am ready to do for another employer. But all ask me for a letter from you.“

”You won’t get any!“ said Pitkin abruptly.

”Where is your home?“

”I have none except in this city.“

”Where did you come from?“

”From the country.“

”Then I advise you to go back there. You may do for the country. You are out of place in the city.“

Poor Phil! Things did indeed look dark for him. Without a letter of recommendation from Mr. Pitkin it would be almost impossible for him to secure another place, and how could he maintain himself in the city? He didn’t wish to sell papers or black boots, and those were about the only paths now open to him.

”I am having a rough time!“ he thought, ”but I will try not to get discouraged.“

He turned upon his heel and walked out of the store.

As he passed the counter where Wilbur was standing, the young man said:

”I am awfully sorry, Philip. It’s a shame! If I wasn’t broke I’d offer to lend you a fiver.“

”Thank you all the same for your kind offer Wilbur,“ said Phil.

”Come round and see me.“

”So I will–soon.“

He left the store and wandered aimlessly about the streets.

Four days later, sick with hope deferred, he made his way down to the wharf of the Charleston and Savannah boats, with a vague idea that he might get a job of carrying baggage, for he felt that he must not let his pride interfere with doing anything by which he could earn an honest penny.

It so happened that the Charleston boat was just in, and the passengers were just landing.

Phil stood on the pier and gazed listlessly at them as they disembarked.

All at once he started in surprise, and his heart beat joyfully.

There, just descending the gang-plank, was his tried friend, Mr. Oliver Carter, whom he supposed over a thousand miles away in Florida.

”Mr. Carter!“ exclaimed Phil, dashing forward.

”Philip!“ exclaimed the old gentleman, much surprised. ”How came you here? Did Mr. Pitkin send you?“

CHAPTER XXIII.

AN EXPLANATION.

IT WOULD be hard to tell which of the two was the more surprised at the meeting, Philip or Mr. Carter.

”I don’t understand how Mr. Pitkin came to hear of my return. I didn’t telegraph,“ said the old gentleman.

”I don’t think he knows anything about it,“ said Phil.

”Didn’t he send you to the pier?“

”No, sir.“

”Then how is it that you are not in the store at this time?“ asked Mr. Carter, puzzled.

”Because I am no longer in Mr. Pitkin’s employ. I was discharged last Saturday.“

”Discharged! What for?“

”Mr. Pitkin gave no reason. He said my services were no longer required. He spoke roughly to me, and has since declined to give me a recommendation, though I told him that without it I should be unable to secure employment elsewhere.“

Mr. Carter frowned. He was evidently annoyed and indignant.

”This must be inquired into,“ he said. ”Philip, call a carriage, and I will at once go to the Astor House and take a room. I had intended to go at once to Mr. Pitkin’s, but I shall not do so until I have had an explanation of this outrageous piece of business.“

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