"'Yes, Mr. MacWhirter; a cold ham and some hot chowder, if they ain't turned off the steam. Pretty good chowder, too, this week. What'll it be—for one or two?'
"'For one, Jerry.'
"I left him alone for a while sitting at one of Jerry's tables, his hungry, eager eyes watching every movement of the old man, as a starved cat watches the bowl of milk you are about to place before it.
"When he had devoured everything Jerry had given him, I moved to the bar, poured out half a glass of whiskey from one of Jerry's bottles, waited until he had swallowed it, and then sent him upstairs to sleep in one of Jerry's beds."
"And that was the last you ever saw of him, of course," broke out Woods, with a laugh.
"No; saw him every day for a month, till he got work. Saw him again to-day at Pusch's. He waited on us. It was Carl."
PART V
In which Boggs Becomes Dramatic and Relates a Tale of Blood.
Mr. Alexander Macwhirter's great picture, "Early Morning on the East River," was still on his easel. The Hanging Committee had taken the outside measurement of the frame; had hung the other pictures up to the line of this measurement; had inserted the title and price in the official catalogue, and were then awaiting Mac's finishing touches.