The stock operator seated himself at the table upon entering.
His companion, sinking into a chair and burying his face in his hands, groaned aloud.
For a moment Mr. Callister regarded him gloomily.
Then, extending his hand, he grasped his shoulder and shook the man with some violence.
"Rube, Rube, I say!"
"Well, what is it, Lije? Why the deuce can't you let me be?"
"But there's no use in this kind of business. What's done is done, and can't be helped. Brace up man, and try to look as near like yourself as you can. Here comes Paddy to see what we'll take."
The burglar raised his head and was staring fixedly before him, as the half door swung inward and the sleepy bartender entered the room.
"What's your liquor, gents?" he demanded, with an air of indifference.
They must pay for their use of the apartment by an order of some kind.