“Can’t we stay until it stops snowin’?” asked one of the men, who were crowded around the big stove in the sleeping room.
“You kin if you pay for another night’s lodging,” was the answer. “What do you think this is, the Salvation Army or the Y. M. C. A.? If you want free graft go there. You has to pay for what you gits here. Clear out!”
There was no help for it. Those who hoped to remain in away from the storm, where it was at least warm, though not very inviting, were doomed to disappointment. A few, who had the money, paid for another night’s lodging, which gave them the privilege of remaining in during the day.
Ned had half a notion to do this, but he reflected he might find a place to work which would be so far from the lodging house that he could not conveniently return. So he decided to save his money until he could find out what the day might hold for him.
With scores of other unfortunates he left the warm room and went out into the cold. He was glad he was well clothed and that he still had his overcoat. How long he could keep it, before he would have to pawn it for food, he did not know. He almost decided to go back to the hotel where he had first stayed and see if they knew anything about his valise. That had ten dollars in it. Then the thought of the detective deterred him.
“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—”