hbor was a baker, and
had plenty of bread, the law of self-preservation justifies me in taking
a loaf."

"Without payin' for it?"

"Yes; if I haven't got any money to pay. I'm entitled to my share of
food, and if others keep it from me, I have a right to help myself,
haven't I?"

"That's so," said Martin; "only it's dangerous."

"Of course there is a risk about it; but then there's a risk in
starvin', isn't there?"

"I should think there was," said Martin.

"I thought we should agree pretty well. Now tell me what you propose to
do. Perhaps I can assist you."

"I don't know what to do," said Martin. "I can't get work. What do you
do?"

"I'm in business," said the stranger, evasively.

"Couldn't you give me a chance,--that is, if it aint hard work? I aint
so strong as I was once, and I aint fit for hard work."

"Well, perhaps I may be able to do something for you," said the
stranger. "If you'll walk with me a little way, we'll smoke another
cigar, and talk it over. What do you say?"

Of course Martin accepted the proposal with alacrity. He did not want to
go back to his work as a carpenter, having lost all relish for honest
industry. He would rather beg, or do anything else for a living. He had
a very indefinite idea of the nature of the proposal which was coming,
but, whatever it might be, he was not likely to be shocked at it.

"Here, give me your check," said the stranger.

He paid, therefore, for Martin's breakfast as well as his own, leaving
that gentleman's fifty cents intact. Martin was not used to such
attention, and appreciated it. For the first time he began to think that
his luck had really turned.

The two went out into the street together, and were soon engaged in
earnest conversation.

CHAPTER XIII.

MARTIN MAKES A BUSINESS ENGAGEMENT.

Martin was agreeably surprised at the attention paid him by his new
friend. There are some who have no difficulty in making friends at first
sight, but this had not often happened to him. In fact, there was very
little that was attractive or prepossessing about him, and though he
could not be expected to be fully aware of that, he had given up
expecting much on the score of friendship. Yet here was a stranger, who,
to Martin's undiscriminating eyes, appeared quite the gentleman, who had
given him a cigar, paid his dinner-bill, and treated him with a degree
of attention to which he was unaccustomed. Martin felt that he was in
luck, and if there