Only a block distant was a cheap restaurant, where
plates of meat were supplied to a poor class of customers at ten
cents per plate.
"Let us go in here," he said.
Giacomo followed, but not without trepidation. He knew that what
they were about to do would be a heinous crime in the eyes of the
padrone. Even Phil had never ventured upon such direct rebellion
before. But Mr. Pomeroy's suggestion that he should run away was
beginning to bear fruit in his mind. He had not come to that
yet, but he might. Why should he not earn money for his own
benefit, as well as for the padrone? True, he was bound to the
latter by a legal contract entered into by his father, but Phil,
without knowing much about law, had an indistinct idea that the
contract was a one-sided one, and was wholly for the advantage of
the other party. The tyrant is always in danger of losing his
hold upon the victim when the latter begins to think.
They entered the restaurant, and sat down at a table.
The tables were greasy. The floor was strewed with sawdust. The
waiters were dirty, and the entire establishment was neither neat
nor inviting. But it was democratic.
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