Having eaten up the bread, and feeling still hungry, he explored the contents of his pocket-book. It contained twenty-five cents, being half of the money he had received from the old-clothes dealer for the little girl's dress.
"That'll buy me a drink and a plate of meat," he thought; "only there won't be any left. Money don't go far in these days."
But persons who get money as this was got, are not very apt to be disturbed much by economical thoughts. "Easy come, easy go," is an old adage and a true one. So Martin, reflecting that the newsboy was out earning money, of which he would receive the benefit, saw nothing to prevent his using the balance of the money to gratify the cravings of appetite.
He accordingly went to a neighboring saloon, where he soon invested his money, and then, thrusting his hands in his empty pockets, strolled listlessly about the streets. Passing through the City Hall Square, he saw Rough and Ready, at a little distance, selling his papers.
"Rose isn't with him," said Martin to himself. "Maybe she's gone home."
However, this was a point in which he felt very little interest. There was no particular object in addressing the newsboy on the subject, so he wandered on in a listless way wherever caprice led.
Strolling down Broadway, he turned into Dey Street, though he had no definite object in so doing. All at once he felt a touch upon his shoulder.
"Well, Martin, how goes it?" said a stout, active-looking man, of much more respectable appearance than Martin himself.
"Hard luck!" said Martin.
"Well, you don't look very prosperous, that's a fact. Where are you at work now?"