Toward the close of the next day the tin-peddler halted in front of a country tavern, situated in a village of moderate size.

"I'm going to stay here over night," he said.

"Maybe they'll let me sleep in the barn," said Tony.

"In the barn! Why not in the house?"

"I haven't got any money, you know, Mr. Bickford."

"What's the odds? They won't charge anything extra for you to sleep with me."

"You're very kind, Mr. Bickford, but they won't keep me for nothing, and I don't want you to pay for me."

At this moment the landlord came out on the piazza, and asked the hostler:

"Where's Sam?"

"Gone home—says he's sick," answered James.

"Drat that boy! It's my opinion he was born lazy. That's what's the matter with him."

"I guess you're right, Mr. Porter," said James. "The boy don't earn his salt."

"I wouldn't take him back if I had anybody to take his place."

"Do you hear that, Tony?" said the peddler, nudging our hero.

Tony was quick to take the hint.

He walked to the landlord, and said:

"I'll take his place."

"Who are you?" asked the landlord, in surprise. "I never saw you before."

"I have just come," said Tony. "I am looking for a place."

"What can you do?"

"Anything you want me to do."

"Have you any references?"

"I can refer to him," said Tony, pointing to the tin peddler.

"Oh, Mr. Bickford," said the landlord, with a glance of recognition. "Well, that's enough. I'll take you. James, take this boy to the kitchen, and give him some supper. Then tell him what's to be done. What's your name, boy?"

"Tony Rugg."

"Very well, Tony, I'll give you three dollars a week and your board as long as we suit each other."

"I've got into business sooner than I expected," thought Tony.

The hostler set him to work in the barn, and though he was new to the work, he quickly understood what was wanted, and did it.

"You work twice as fast as Sam," said the hostler, approvingly.

"Won't Sam be mad when he finds I have taken his place?" asked Tony.

"Probably he will, but it's his own fault."

"Not if he's sick."

"He's no more sick than I am. He only wants to get a day or two off."

"Well, I'm glad he left a vacancy for me," said Tony.

"Where did you work last?" asked the hostler.

"Nowhere."

"Never worked? Then how did you live?"

"I traveled with my guardian."

"Were you rich?" asked James, rather impressed by Tony's answer.

"No; I just went round and lived as I could. I didn't like it, but I couldn't help it. I had to go where Rudolph chose to lead me."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. I got tired of being a tramp, and ran away from him."

"You did right," said James, who was a steady man, and looked forward to a snug home of his own ere long. "All the same, Mr. Porter wouldn't have taken you if he had known you were a tramp."

"I hope you won't tell him, then. I don't want to be a tramp any longer."

"No; I won't tell him. I want you to stay here. I'd rather have you than Sam."

"Thank you. I'll try to suit."

Tony was assigned to a room in the attic. There were two beds in this chamber, one being occupied by James. He slept soundly, and was up betimes in the morning. After breakfast, Mr. Bickford, the tin peddler, made ready to start.

"Good-by, Tony," he said, in a friendly manner. "I'm glad you've got a place."

"I wouldn't have got it if I hadn't you to refer to," said Tony.

"The landlord didn't ask how long I'd known you," said Bickford, smiling. "However, I guess I know enough of you to give you a recommend. Good luck to you."

As the peddler drove away, Tony noticed a big, overgrown boy, who was just entering the hotel yard.

"That's Sam," said the hostler. "He don't know he's lost his place."