"You seem all right. Are you sick?"
"I've lost my pocket-book," said Jack. "Every cent I had except some change."
"I've lost my pocket-book."
"That's bad," and the keen-eyed officer understood the matter at a glance, for he added:
"You were caught in a crowd, and had your pocket picked? I can't do anything for you, my boy. It's gone, and that's all there is of it. Never push into crowds if you've any money about you. You'd better go home now."
"Only sixty-five cents left," Jack said, as he walked away, "for this evening, and Saturday, and Sunday, and for all next week, till I get something to do and am paid for doing it!"
He had eaten ten cents' worth of bread and milk at noon; but he was a strong and healthy boy and he was again hungry. Counting his change made him hungrier, and he thought longingly of the brilliant supper-room at the Hotel Dantzic.
"That won't do," he thought. "I must keep away from Keifelheimer and his restaurant. There, now, that's something like."