JACK FINDS HIMSELF IN POSSESSION OF A JOB Writing his name on the hotel register was an embarrassing ceremony that had not occurred to Jack until he walked up the steps and into the bare little office.

Some instinct of pride made him shrink from taking a name that did not belong to him, and he was afraid to write his own in so public a place.

So he ducked into the dining room whence came the muffled clatter of dishes and an odor of fried beefsteak, as a perfectly plausible means of dodging the issue for a while.
He ate as slowly as he dared and as long as he could swallow, and when he left was lucky enough to find the office occupied only by a big yellow cat curled up on the desk with the pen between its paws.

It seemed a shame to disturb the cat.

He went by it on his toes and passed on down the steps and into the full face of the town lying there cupped in green hills and with a sunshiny quiet that made the world seem farther away than ever.
A couple of men were walking down the street and stopping now and then to talk to those they met.