They rolled him out into the corridor.

Next he applied for a job as a telegrapher. His mere ignorance
of telegraphy was made the ground of refusal.

At nightfall Hezekiah Hayloft grew hungry. He entered again
the portico of the Waldorf Astoria. Within it stood a tall man
in uniform.

"Boss," said the boy hero, "will you trust me for the price of
a square meal?"

They set the dog on him.

Such, reader, is the hardness and bitterness of the Great City.

For fourteen weeks Hezekiah Hayloft looked for work. Once or
twice he obtained temporary employment only to lose it again.

For a few days he was made accountant in a trust company. He
was discharged because he would not tell a lie. For about a
week he held a position as cashier in a bank. They discharged
the lad because he refused to forge a cheque. For three days
he held a conductorship on a Broadway surface car. He was
dismissed from this business for refusing to steal a nickel.

Such, reader, is the horrid degradation of business life in
New York.

Meantime the days passed and still Hayloft found no work.