"Well, sit down," said Casper, who couldn't bear to let Claus go away if he had anything to say concerning that box; "but you yourself would be angry if you were in my fix."
"Oh, I have been that way lots of times. I have been so I didn't know where my next meal was coming from."
"I have been that way, too," said Casper. "The other night you got ten cents of me, and it was the last cent I had in the world; I had to get my next meal at the free-lunch saloons."
"I didn't know you were as hard up as that," said Casper, with surprise. "Have you money with which to get breakfast to-morrow?"
"Then here are twenty cents," said Claus, putting his hand into his pocket. "Two meals will do you. In the meantime, if you get hard up for something to eat, go to the saloons; that's the way I do."
"Yes, but you always get something else. If I go in there and dabble with their lunch, the barkeeper will want to know why I don't get something to drink."
"Then walk out and go to another saloon. You ain't posted. Now, I want to tell you my story. It isn't long, and I want to ask you a question before I get through."
When Claus said this, Casper settled back in his chair and tried to look interested; but the trouble was, he only succeeded in looking guilty.
"I have just come from Julian's room," continued Claus, "and I threatened him with the police. He called me by my own name, or Jack did, and I want to know who has been telling him that. Did you?"