He instantly felt himself out of place amid those well dressed people,
and smart servants. It was his first experience with a first class
city hotel.
So low did his courage ebb at first that he very nearly made up his
mind to retreat without attempting to see Captain Gary. In his
unwashed, uncombed condition, the contrast between himself and those
around was embarrassing enough even to his crude conception.
He stood gazing about in a half helpless manner, not knowing to whom to
apply for information.
"Where can I find Captain Gary?" he asked at length of a porter who
happened to be lounging near.
The negro inspected Ralph from head to foot, then demanded: "Do he stop
yere?"
"Yes. I have a letter for him."
"Oh! Dat all is it?" The porter had found it hard to reconcile
Ralph's appearance with any other connection with a guest of the hotel
than a menial one. "Yo' go right up to de office over dar and gin it
to the clerk. He see Cap'n Gary gits um."
"But--but I have to see the captain myself," urged Ralph.
"What yo' reckon a gen'lemun like he wanter sech a boy as you? Huh?"
Ralph felt that his clothes were against him, but he did not propose to
be bullied by a servant and a negro at that.
"Look here," said he. "I want to see Captain Gary and I'm going to see
him, too. I've got business with him--d'ye understand?"
"Well den," replied the porter insolently, "s'posen yo' find where he
is yo'self."
Ralph, without another word, marched straight to the clerk's desk.
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