With Junior at his elbow he
suffered one rebuff after another, until it was clear to him that it was
impossible for a country boy unused to the ways of the city to find or to
hold a job at which he could survive, even with his room provided, while
the city swarmed with unemployed men. Everywhere they found the work they
would have liked done by an Italian, Greek, Swede, German, or Polander who
seemed strong as oxen, oblivious, as no doubt they were, to treatment
Junior never had seen accorded a balky mule, and able to live on a chunk
of black bread, a bit of cheese, and a few cents' worth of stale beer.
When Mickey had truly convinced himself of what he had believed, with a
free conscience he then began allowing Junior to find out for himself
exactly what he was facing. By that time Junior had lost himself on the
way to Mickey's rooms, spent a night wandering the streets, and
breakfastless was waiting before the Iriquois.
Mickey listened sympathetically, supplied a dime, which seemed to be all
he had, for breakfast, and said as he entered the building: "Well kid,
'til we can find a job you'll just have to go up against the street.
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