"Ham."
The waiter sped on his errand, and soon set before our hero a cup of fragrant coffee, steaming hot, and a sandwich made of tender meat and fresh bread, which tasted delicious to the hungry boy—so delicious that he resolved to forego the intended piece of pie and ordered another.
While he was eating the second sandwich, he observed that a young man, sitting just opposite, was eyeing him attentively.
He was tall, dark-complexioned, slender, and had a kindly face.
"You seem to relish your supper, Johnny," he said.
"Yes, I do, but my name isn't Johnny."
The young man smiled.
"Excuse me," he said, "but in New York we call boys by that name, if we don't know their real names. I suppose you have not been here long?"
"No; I only arrived this afternoon."
"Come to make your fortune, eh?"