Mr. Thomas then thought, “my money is vanishing, school rooms and workshops are closed against me.  I will not beg, and I can not resort to any questionable means for bread.  I will now take any position or do any work by which I can make an honest living.”  Just as he was looking gloomily at the future an old school mate laid his hand upon his shoulder and said, “how do you do, old fellow?  I have not seen you for a week of Sundays.  What are you driving at now?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.  I am looking for work.”

“Well, now this is just the ticket.  I have just returned from the Pacific coast and while I was there I did splendidly; everything I touched turned to gold, and now I have a good job on hand if you are not too squeamish to take it.  I have just set up a tiptop restaurant and saloon, and I have some of the best merchants of the city as my customers, and I want a first rate clerk.  You were always good at figures and if you will accept the place come with me right away.  Since high license went into operation, I am making money hand over fist.  It is just like the big fish eating up the little fish.  I am doing a rushing business and I want you to do my clerking.”

The first thought which rushed into Mr. Thomas’ mind was, “Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?” but he restrained his indignation and said,

“No, Frank, I cannot accept your offer; I am a temperance man and a prohibitionist, and I would rather have my hands clean than to have them foul.”

“You are a greater milksop than I gave you credit for.  Here you are hunting work, and find door after door closed against you, not because you are not but because you are colored, and here am I offering you easy employment and good wages and you refuse them.”

“Frank,” said Mr. Thomas, “I am a poor man, but I would rather rise up early, and sit up late and eat the bread of carelessness, than to roll in wealth by keeping a liquor saloon, and I am determined that no drunkard shall ever charge me with having helped drag him down to misery, shame and death.  No drunkard’s wife shall ever lay the wreck of her home at my door.”

“My business,” said Frank Miller, “is a legitimate one; there is money in it, and I am after that.  If people will drink too much and make fools of themselves I can’t help it; it is none of my business, and if I don’t sell to them other people will.  I don’t think much of a man who does not know how to govern himself, but it is no use arguing with you when you are once set in your ways; good morning.”

Chapter XII