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.

“Yes,” answered Joe.  “I think so.”

“You say the business pays well?”

“Yes; it satisfies me.”

“Are you alone?  Have you no partner?”

“You could do better with one.  Suppose you take me into business with you?”

Joe was considerably surprised at this proposition from a man who had swindled him.

“How much capital can you furnish?” he asked.

“I haven’t got any money.  I’m dead broke,” said Hogan, “but I can give my services.  I can wait on the table.  I’ll do that, and you can give me my board and one-third of the profits.  Come, now, that’s a good offer.  What do you say?”

Joe thought it best to be candid.

“I don’t want any partner, Mr. Hogan,” he said; “and I may as well tell you, I don’t think I should care to be associated with you if I did.”

“Do you mean to insult me?” asked Hogan, scowling.

“No; but I may as well be candid.”

“What’s the matter with me?” asked Hogan roughly.

“I don’t like the way you do business,” said Joe.

“Look here, young one, you put on too many airs just because you’re keepin’ a one-horse restaurant,” said Hogan angrily.

“If it’s a one-horse restaurant, why do you want to become my partner?” retorted Joe coolly.

“Because I’m hard up—­I haven’t got a cent.”

“I’m sorry for you; but a man needn’t be in that condition long here.”

“Where do you sleep?” asked Hogan suddenly.

“Here.  I put a bed on the floor in one corner, and so am on hand in the morning.”

“I say,” Hogan continued insinuatingly, “won’t you let me stay here to-night?”

“Sleep here?”

“Yes.”

“I’d rather not, Mr. Hogan.”

“I haven’t a cent to pay for a lodging.  If you don’t take me in, I shall have to stay in the street all night.”

“You’ve slept out at the mines, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can do it here.”

“You’re hard on a poor man,” whined Hogan.  “It wouldn’t cost you anything to let me sleep here.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” said Joe; “but I prefer to choose my own company at night.”

“I may catch my death of cold,” said Hogan.

“I hope not; but I don’t keep lodgings,” said Joe firmly.

“You haven’t any feeling for an unlucky man.”