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Joe didn’t confide to her his real errand, just why he didn’t exactly know. Perhaps he had a dim notion that Aunt Sarah wouldn’t approve of his engaging in work that might keep him away from home at strange hours of the day or night. She watched his departure doubtfully from the front door and when he was almost to the corner of the next street called after him to go to Rice and Perry’s and get himself a pair of overshoes. “Tell Mr. Perry they’re to be charged to me, and see that he gives them to you big enough. If you don’t watch him he’ll fit you too snug and then they’ll wear out right away!”

Joe didn’t obey instructions, however. Somehow he wasn’t yet ready to become indebted to Aunt Sarah, and, besides, he didn’t need overshoes to get around today. His boots were heavy-soled and as nearly waterproof as any “guaranteed waterproof” boots ever are. During the afternoon he made several inquiries for work. A photographer declined his offer to do errands after three o’clock in the afternoon, a haberdasher failed to discern the benefits to accrue—to him—from giving employment to the applicant, and four other merchants of different trades answered to similar effect. Just before dusk Joe sought the office of the Amesville Recorder.