He went out of a
side door, and began to wander about the streets of Newark. Now,
for the first time, he felt that he was working for himself, and
the feeling was an agreeable one. True, he did not yet feel
wholly secure. Pietro might possibly follow in the next train.
He inquired at the station when the next train would arrive.
"In an hour," was the reply.
It would be an hour, therefore, before Pietro could reach Newark.
He decided to walk on without stopping till he reached the
outskirts of the city, and not venture back till nightfall, when
there would be little or no danger.
Accordingly he plodded on for an hour and a half, till he came
where the houses were few and scattered at intervals. In a
business point of view this was not good policy, but safety was
to be consulted first of all. He halted at length before a
grocery store, in front of which he saw a small group of men
standing. His music was listened to with attention, but when he
came to pass his cap round afterward the result was small. In
fact, to be precise, the collection amounted to but eight cents.
"How's business, boy?" asked a young man who stood at the door
in his shirt-sleeves, and was evidently employed in the grocery.
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