“Not just now,” answered Frank.  “When I get something to do I shall not need to be so careful of my money.”

“One dollar would answer,” persisted Pliny.

Without a word, Frank drew a dollar bill from his pocketbook and handed it to Pliny.

“Now,” he thought, “I shall not feel under any obligations to the family.”

“You’re a good fellow, even if you are poor,” said Pliny, in high good humor.

Frank was tired, and it was not long before all his anxieties for future were lost sight of in a sound and refreshing slumber.

CHAPTER XVIII

FRANK ARRIVES IN NEW YORK

The breakfast the next morning was very meager.  It was no longer an object to gratify Frank’s palate, now that he turned out to be a poor relation, and the family returned to their usual plain diet.

“So you are resolved to go to New York this morning,” said Mr. Tarbox.  “Of course it would gratify us to have you remain longer, but I appreciate your anxiety to go to work.”

Frank was by no means deceived by this statement.  He knew very well that Mr. Tarbox would be relieved by his departure, but of this knowledge he made no sign.  He merely said that he thought it best to go.

He took leave of his hosts, and, purchasing a ticket at the railway station, found himself within an hour in New York.  He had been there before, but it was not for a long time, and he had but a vague general idea of the city.

Frank made inquiries of a kindly man who owned a clean little store on one of the streets.  The latter knew of places where Frank could board and lodge for five dollars a week or about that and directed Frank to them.  They were all near University Place.  He found the place without difficulty.

A slipshod servant answered the bell.

“Have you got any small rooms?” asked Frank.

“Yes,” answered the girl.  “Missus is out, but I’ll show you a hall bedroom, if you like.”

“I should like to see it.”

Frank followed the girl upstairs.

He was not favorably impressed by the appearance of the interior.  He did not so much mind its being shabby, but he was repelled by the evident lack of neatness.

The girl threw open the door of a small hall bedroom at the head of the stairs, but it looked so comfortless that he felt sure he should not like it.  He thought it best, however, to inquire the price.

“Five dollars a week with board,” answered the girl.

“I don’t think it will suit me,” said our hero.

“There’s a larger room for seven dollars,” said the servant.

“No.  I think I will look elsewhere.”

The next house was not much better, but the third was much neater and more attractive, and Frank agreed to take a room at five dollars per week.

It was a small hall bedroom, but it looked clean, and the lady who showed him about the house was very neat in her dress.