The fifty cents was quickly collected, and, adding ten cents of his own, Tom ran from the hotel. "No fish market open at this time of night," he said to himself.
"I'll have to try a restaurant," and hurried into the first place which came into sight.
"Have you any crabs?" he asked, of the waiter who came to him.
"Yes, sah; very fine, sah. Want some soft-shell, sah?"
"I don't care whether they are soft-shell or as hard as rocks. I want live crabs, the most active kind you have in stock."
The waiter stared in amazement, then called the owner of the restaurant.
"You want live crabs?"
"I do—strong, active, go-ahead crabs, and I want them in a box."
"Is this a joke?"
"It will be—when the crabs get to work," answered Tom with a wink.