That was a good story. Now what would he do with the rest of the day? Let's see, where was that Vilma Banky picture playing?
Box 247X never answered Hubert's letter. Well, it probably wouldn't have been much of a job anyhow. He felt that he ought to get up to the club again and tell a few more fellows that he was open for offers, but he remembered that he owed a little money up there and sort of hated to go back till he could pay it. He looked through the ads in the paper every morning after he had left Lillian. He would buy the papers on Dyckman Street and park on the Drive, looking them over. There were, however, very few ads that would appeal to a man of intelligence and executive ability. And fewer still that wanted answers by mail. Hubert was not interested in the ones that wanted a personal interview at once. He couldn't see himself in line with a lot of down-and-outers asking a perfect stranger to give him a job. The ads that spoke of glittering opportunities for the right man always had box numbers; so Hubert wrote to three or four, but received no answer. His wonderment knew no bounds.
The hundred dollars which Theresa gave him did not last long, as there were many claims upon it. Hubert thought of selling the Packard and then beating it out of town with Lillian and beginning everything over. He thought of it as one thinks of a play one has seen. Very entertaining, indeed, and very competently handled, too, but of course, no one ever behaved like the hero. Still, a very nice story to recall now and again.
Only ten dollars was left of Theresa's hundred when
