"If I had the four dollars the lodging house proprietor stole from me I'd think I was rich," he murmured. "But I wouldn't dare go back after it. He'd have me arrested sure! Though I may have to submit to that to get a warm place to sleep and something to eat, if I don't get work soon," he added.

It was very cold. As soon as Ned got out into the street, where he could feel the full sweep of the wind he shivered though his overcoat was a thick one. The snow was blown into his face with stinging force.

"As long as it doesn't make any difference which way I go I may as well have the wind at my back," he reasoned as he turned and walked in the opposite direction. "That's more comfortable, at any rate," he continued.

"Now I must get something to eat, if it's only a cup of coffee."

He walked on until he saw a restaurant. In the window was a big gas stove on which a man, in a white uniform and cap, was browning some buckwheat cakes. They looked so good they made Ned's mouth fairly water.

"I'm going to have some," he decided. "It will take fifteen cents, if I get coffee with them, but it's worth it. I'll make this meal do for dinner too. But supper--"

Ned did not dare carry his thoughts further. All he knew was that he was very hungry, and at least he had money enough to pay for a simple meal.

Supper must take care of itself.

"Maybe I can get a night's lodging at some free place, and save the rest of my money for supper and breakfast to-morrow," Ned thought to himself as he entered the restaurant.

He ordered a plate of the cakes and some coffee, and could hardly wait until the girl had placed them on the table in front of him. He got a small pitcher of what pa.s.sed for maple syrup, and there was a plate of b.u.t.ter from which all at the table helped themselves.

Ned finished the cakes in short order. The coffee was hot if nothing else, but Ned was surprised at the small place in his big appet.i.te which the cakes filled. He almost felt like ordering more but decided it would be rash to reduce his capital to five cents. As it was now, when he had paid for his breakfast, he would have fifteen cents left out of the thirty.

With the pasteboard check which the girl had left at his plate, in his hand, Ned approached the cashier's desk in the front part of the restaurant. His fingers went into the change pocket of his overcoat, searching for the money. He could feel nothing but the lining. A blank look came over his face. He was sure he had put the money back into that pocket as he finished counting it when he sat on the edge of his bed.

Yet it was not there. Hurriedly he felt in all his other pockets.

Meanwhile several customers behind him were impatiently waiting to pay their checks.

"One side," said the cashier in a gruff tone, as he saw Ned fumbling through his pockets. "What's the matter with you? Left your memory home?"

"I think I've lost my money," Ned answered, his voice trembling a little.

"Then you've got another think coming," the clerk said in an ugly tone.

"I've heard that story before."

"What story?" asked Ned.

"About forgetting your money. Left it in the bank I s'pose, or home on the pianer, or you've got to have a check cashed. What is it, speak quick, I've got no time to fool."

While he was talking, the man was busy making change for other customers who walked past Ned.

"Do you mean that you think I'm trying to cheat you?" asked the boy.

"I don't mean anything if you pay for what you've eaten. If you don't pay--well--there's a cop just around the corner, and we've had your same kind in here before."

By this time Ned stood alone in front of the desk, as the line of waiting men had pa.s.sed out.

"I had my money when I came in here," said the boy. "Or at least I think I did. I had it a little while before, I'm sure, for I counted it. There was thirty cents--"

"That's what you look like now," the cashier interrupted, with a coa.r.s.e laugh at his joke. "It'll be thirty days for yours if you don't settle up."

"But I haven't got the money," replied poor Ned.

"Then you shouldn't have eaten anything. Do you think we're feedin'

beggars here?"

"I thought I had the money when I ordered the cakes," Ned replied, staring helplessly at the fifteen cent check in his hand.

"Say, young feller, that's too thin. It don't go here any more. I've been stung too often with that yarn. You'll pay for your grub or you'll be arrested, see? Have you got the money; yes or no?"

"I haven't--but if--"

"Yes, if we let you go you'll stop in on your way from the bank and give us a check! No you don't! A fellow gave me that song and dance last week.

Jim, call the cop," and the cashier nodded to one of the men waiters.

"Are you going to have me arrested?" exclaimed Ned.

"That's what I am. It's a criminal offense to order a meal, eat it, and not pay for it."

Ned did not know what to do.

CHAPTER XXIV

A QUEER IDENTIFICATION

Stumbling through the snow drifts the three chums bore the half-unconscious boy they had picked up in the snow bank. They went as quickly as they could, for they knew the need of haste in the case of a person who had been exposed to the cold and storm.

"I wonder who he is?" said Fenn.

"Whoever he is he's pretty nearly dead," replied Frank. "I hope we're not too late."

As they struggled into the lobby of the hotel with their burden, the night clerk gazed curiously at them.

"What the matter?" he asked.

"Boy almost frozen," replied Bart. "Send for a doctor!"

"Who's going to pay him?" the clerk inquired.

"We will!" Bart replied, somewhat indignantly.

"That's all right, needn't get mad about it," the clerk exclaimed.

"You'll find there's a lot of grafting in New York, and we have to be careful. Here, I'll help you with him."

"Take him up to my room," Frank suggested, as the clerk came from behind the desk and a.s.sisted in supporting the boy, who was now unconscious.

"Mine is the largest apartment," Frank went on, "I can bunk in with one of you fellows."

"Telephone for Dr. Smithers," the clerk called to a helper as they placed the boy in the elevator. "He's just around the corner."