“I thought maybe you’d tell an old friend,” said Hogan.
Joe could not help laughing at the man’s matchless impudence.
“I don’t think you have treated me exactly like a friend, Mr. Hogan,” he said. “You certainly did all you could to prevent my coming to California.”
“There’s some mistake about that,” said Hogan.
“You’re under a misapprehension; but I won’t go into that matter now. Will you trust me for my supper?”
“Yes,” said Joe promptly. “Sit down at that table.”
The man had treated him badly, but things had turned out favorably for Joe, and he would not let Hogan suffer from hunger, if he could relieve him.
Hogan needed no second invitation. He took a seat at a table near-by, and ate enough for two men, but Joe could not repeat the invitation he had given. He felt that he could not afford it.
It was rather late when Hogan sat down. When he finished, he was the only one left in the restaurant, except Joe. He sauntered up to the desk.
“You’ve got a good cook,” said Hogan, picking his teeth with a knife.