"If you like, I will send up to the city editor to inquire if there is a man named Barry in his department."
"I guess I won't trouble you."
Jed turned away quite satisfied in his own mind that he had been cleverly swindled and would never see his two dollars again. He reflected that it might have been more, and stoutly resolved not to let any designing persons wheedle him out of any more money.
He had never visited New York before, and the streets were all new to him. So he strolled about for a couple of hours, gazing curiously at shops, buildings, streets, and street scenes.
This naturally led to a feeling of hunger, and at twelve o'clock he began to look around for a restaurant. He found one on Fulton Street, and went in.
He took a seat on the right-hand side, about midway up the room, and consulted the bill of fare. He found that roast meats were fifteen and twenty-five cents, the latter being for large plates. Tea and coffee were five cents each, and pie or pudding was ten cents.
He ordered a large plate of roast beef, feeling quite hungry, and a cup of coffee.
Jed had about half finished his dinner when his attention was drawn by a familiar voice at the next table. Looking up, he saw that two men had entered the restaurant since he had been served and were sitting with their backs to him. One of them he recognized, with a thrill of excitement, as his acquaintance of the morning, Hamilton Barry.
"I say, Barry," said his companion, "you've had a streak of luck. How do you happen to be in funds?"