"I hope not; but I don't keep lodgings," said Joe firmly.

"You haven't any feeling for an unlucky man."

"I have given you your supper, and not stinted you in any way. What
you ate would cost two dollars at my regular prices. I wasn't called
to do it, for you never did me any service, and you are owing me
to-day fifty dollars, which you cheated me out of when I was a poor
boy. I won't let you lodge here, but I will give you a breakfast in
the morning, if you choose to come round. Then you will be
strengthened for a day's work, and can see what you can find to do."

Hogan saw that Joe was in earnest and walked out of the restaurant,
without a word.

When Joe was about to close his doors for the night his attention was
drawn to a man who was sitting down on the ground, a few feet
distant, with his head buried between his two hands, in an attitude
expressive of despondency.

Joe was warm-hearted and sympathetic, and, after a moment's
hesitation, addressed the stranger.

"Is anything the matter with you, sir?" he asked. "Don't you feel
well?"

The man addressed raised his head. He was a stout, strongly built
man, roughly dressed, but had a look which inspired confidence.