“No.”

“No more have I. Come in and dine with me.”

“What’ll you take?” asked Jasper Wheelock, passing the bill of fare to Frank.

“I think I should like to have some roast beef,” said Frank.

“That will suit me.  Here, waiter, two plates of roast beef, and two cups of coffee.”

“How are they all at home?” asked Jasper.

“My mother has just died.”

“You don’t say so,” said Jasper, sympathetically.

“My sister is well.”

“I forgot your sister’s name.”

“Grace.”

“Of course—­Grace.  I find it hard to remember names.  The fact is, I have been trying to recall your last name, but it’s gone from me.”

“Fowler.”

“To be sure Frank Fowler.  How could I be so forgetful.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and roast beet, which both he and his new friend attacked with vigor.

“What kind of pudding will you have?” asked the stranger.

“Apple dumpling,” said Frank.

“That suits me.  Apple dumpling for two.”

In due time the apple dumpling was disposed of, and two checks were brought, amounting to seventy cents.

“I’ll pay for both,” said Jasper.  “No thanks.  We are old acquaintances, you know.”

He put his hand into his pocket, and quickly withdrew it with an exclamation of surprise: 

“Well, if that isn’t a good joke,” he said.  “I’ve left my money at home.  I remember now, I left it in the pocket of my other coat.  I shall have to borrow the money of you.  You may as well hand me a dollar!”

Frank was not disposed to be suspicious, but the request for money made him uneasy.  Still there seemed no way of refusing, and he reluctantly drew out the money.

His companion settled the bill and then led the way into the street.

Jasper Wheelock was not very scrupulous; he was quite capable of borrowing money, without intending to return it; but he had his good side.

“Frank,” said he, as they found themselves in the street, “you have done me a favor, and I am going to help you in return.  Have you got very much money?”

“No.  I had twenty dollars when I left home, but I had to pay my fare in the cars and the dinner, I have seventeen dollars and a half left.”

“Then it is necessary for you to get a place as soon as possible.”

“Yes; I have a sister to support; Grace, you know.”

“No, I don’t know.  The fact is, Frank, I have been imposing upon you.  I never saw you before in the whole course of my life.”

“What made you say you knew me?”

“I wanted to get a dinner out of you.  Don’t be troubled, though; I’ll pay back the money.  I’ve been out of a place for three or four weeks, but I enter upon one the first of next week.  For the rest of the week I’ve got nothing to do, and I will try to get you a place.