It seemed much as if Jip Collins, learning that Seth was in the vicinity, believed it wisest to keep out of sight, and after the night had fully come Dan said impatiently:
"It's no use spendin' so much time on that duffer, 'cause he won't show up again to-night. We've told so many of the fellers what 'Lish Davis said, that Jip will be sure to hear of it before he goes to bed, an' perhaps that will be just as well as if you had met him, 'cause there might have been a row. Let's go up and get a bowl of five-cent soup and a piece of pie. I can stand a ten-cent spread to-night, an' business has been good enough with you."
To this proposition Seth assented, and the two made their way to a certain restaurant on Chatham Street, where, after an unusually profitable day's work, they were in the custom of feasting.
If there was any one thing in which Dan Roberts excelled it was in his ability to eat very fast and for a long while.
He ordered the waiter to bring him the pie and the soup at the same time, and it seemed to Seth as if he had but just begun before his partner was finished.
"I reckon I can take one more bowl of that soup, an' then be through before you are," he said, thoughtfully. "I made pretty near forty cents, an' it's kind'er tough if a feller can't spend fifteen of it, eh?"
"Go ahead if you want the soup, an' are willin' to pay for it. It don't make any difference to me, 'cause I'll stay here till you're filled plum full; but I tell you what it is, Dan, you're gettin' into an awful habit of eatin'."
"Is that what you call a habit?"
"Course it is. If you didn't think about it every minute, you wouldn't be so hungry."
"I'm pretty near starved all the time as it is, an' I don't know how I'd get along with any less," Dan replied apologetically, and then, the soup having been brought, he gave his undivided attention to the pleasing task.