place, and a
great many other hungry people were there already.
Jack sat down at one of the small tables, and a waiter came to him at
once.
"Dinner sir? Yessir. Roast beef, sir? Yessir. Vegetables?
Potatoes? Lima-beans? Sweet corn?"
"Yes, please," said Jack. "Beef, potatoes, beans, and corn?" and the
waiter was gone.
It seemed to be a long time before the beef and vegetables came, but
they were not long in disappearing after they were on the table.
The waiter had other people to serve, but he was an attentive fellow.
"Pie sir?" he said, naming five kinds without a pause.
"Custard-pie," said Jack.
"Coffee, sir? Yessir," and he darted away again.
"This beats the Hotel Dantzic all to pieces," remarked Jack, as he went
on with his pie and coffee; but the waiter was scribbling something
upon a slip of paper, and when it was done he put it down by Jack's
plate.
"Jingo!" said Jack in a horrified tone, a moment later. "What's this?
'Roast beef, 25; potatoes, 10; Lima-beans, 10; corn, 10; bread, 5;
coffee, 10; pie, 10: $0.80.' Eighty cents! Jingo! How like smoke it
does cost to live in New York! This can't be one of the cheap places
Mr. Guilderaufenberg meant."
Jack felt much chagrined, but he finished his pie and coffee bravely.
"It's a sell," he said, "--but then it _was_ a good dinner!"
He went to the cashier with an effort to act as if it was an old story
to him. He gave the cashier a dollar, received his change, and turned
away, as the man behind the counter remarked to a friend at his elbow:
"I knew it. He had the cash. His face was all right."
"Clothes will fool anybody," said the other man.
Jack heard it, and he looked at the men sitting at the tables.
"They're all wearing Sunday clothes," he thought, "but some are no
better than mine. But there's a difference. I've noticed it all
along."
So had others, for Jack had not seen one in that restaurant who had on
at all such a suit of clothes as had been made for him by the Crofield
tailor.
"Four dollars and seventy cents left," said Jack thoughtfully, as he
went up into the street; and then he turned to go down-town without any
reason for choosing that direction.
An hour later, Mr. Gilderaufenberg and his wife and their friends were
standing near the front door of the Hotel Dantzic, talking with the
proprietor. Around them lay their baggage, and in front of the door
was a carriage. Evidently they were going awa
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