Knowlton's breakfast arrived, and he fell upon it with gusto.
"You gents come from Pittsburgh?" the waitress enquired, evidently much mollified by Knowlton's treatment of his breakfast.
"Nope—New York," Knowlton answered.
"Gee, I'd like to go East," she said fervently. "It must be just grand. What line you gents travelling in?"
"We aren't travelling men," Knowlton replied. "I'm an engineer, and my friend here is just a plain business man."
"Oh," she said, somewhat disappointed, I thought. It was clear that she did not rank us as highly as she did travelling men. "Just passin' through the city, I suppose," she continued.
"It's hard to say," said Knowlton. "Maybe we'll be here sometime."
"Going to board here?"—her interest in us somewhat renewed, at this announcement.
"We haven't settled on our eating joint yet. Thought we'd look round first."
"This is as O. K. as any," she said. "The grub's nothing wonderful, but it's as good as you'll get. Lou Meyer's Rathskeller hasn't anything on us, and he charges a dollar a week more. 'Course, if your friend's particular, he might try the Otooska House down on the park. They put on a lot of airs and charge New York prices there, but it's the same old grub."