It was not the first time he had missed-for the same reason. It took so long to reach the address that there was little chance of finding the job still open.

His feet were sore and blistered from holes in his shoes, and he limped with every step. For the past two months he had been hunting for work, while his few dollars dwindled to where he no longer had room rent. He had been carpenter’s helper, plumber’s helper, porter, counter-man and busboy as the months passed, but nothing steady. It was only six months after his father died that he lost his last regular job. Five years had slipped by since he quit school, and he couldn’t remember where they had gone. He heard that she married a classmate! Dick was twenty-seven. He had no relations, and the only girl had forgotten him, when he left school. His love of mechanics remained insatiable, and he constantly hoped for work which would allow him to use his knowledge and ability. Three years later his father died, then Dick lost the job that had kept them eating regularly. For a long time Dick Barrow gazed at the ad, mentally comparing his own qualifications for the position-and they seemed to fit! He was not a graduate engineer, being forced to quit school after two years of study. This position is for lifetime, without opportunity of turning back after having accepted responsibility. Every want will be taken care of by employers. Come prepared to leave for post immediately, without preparation.

Will be isolated with few members of own race, but will have great opportunity to develop mastery of huge machines. Have no close family ties, and willing to submit to certain amount of danger. Must be willing to leave country, never to return for which he will be well remunerated. Have some knowledge of engineering, but general experience more desirable than specialized training. Young man with love for electrical and mechanical work, who is not afraid of isolation. His eyes stopped at one item in the column and a puzzled frown slowly puckered his forehead. For three days he had been reading them secondhand, but the only jobs were too far to walk and apply for. Anyone who could afford to buy a newspaper was an aristocrat, and Dick watched until he saw one discarded. He would have enjoyed a smoke, but turned away as two men dove for a cigarettebutt discarded by a passerby. For three days Dick hadn’t eaten a good meal, and felt almost as low as the derelicts whom he had for companions. Some didn’t care, but others tried to find any kind of work that would fill their stomachs with food. Depression or recession, it meant the same to all of them.

Others sat with heads hanging thinking thoughts of their own. Some stretched at full length, sleeping in the morning sun after a night in the park.

From where Dick Barrow sat, hundreds of men were visible, occupying benches in every manner of position.

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