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 passed for maple syrup, and there was a plate of butter 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 appetite 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.