appeared on
the boards before them.

Ben had not gone far when he fell in with an acquaintance,--Barney
Flynn.

"Where you goin', Ben?" inquired Barney.

"Goin' to get some grub," answered Ben.

"I'm with you, then. I haven't eat anything since mornin', and I'm awful
hungry."

"Have you got any stamps?"

"I've got a fifty."

"So have I."

"Where are you goin' for supper?"

"To Pat's, I guess."

"All right; I'll go with you."

The establishment known as "Pat's" is located in a basement in Nassau
Street, as the reader of "Mark, the Match Boy," will remember. It is, of
coarse, a cheap restaurant, and is considerably frequented by the street
boys, who here find themselves more welcome guests than at some of the
more pretentious eating-houses.

Ben and Barney entered, and gave their orders for a substantial repast.
The style in which the meal was served differed considerably from the
service at Delmonico's; but it is doubtful whether any of the guests at
the famous up-town restaurant enjoyed their meal any better than the two
street boys, each of whom was blest with a "healthy" appetite. Barney
had eaten nothing since morning, and Ben's fast had only been broken by
the eating of a two-cent apple, which had not been sufficient to satisfy
his hunger.

Notwithstanding the liberality of their orders, however, each of the
boys found himself, at the end of the meal, the possessor of twenty-five
cents. This was not a very large sum to sleep on, but it was long since
either had waked up in the morning with so large a capital to commence
operations upon.

"What shall we do?" asked Ben.

"Suppose we go to the Old Bowery," suggested Barney.

"Or Tony Pastor's," amended Ben.

"I like the Bowery best. There's a great fight, and a feller gets killed
on the stage. It's a stunnin' old play."

"Then let us go," said Ben, who, as well as his companion, liked the
idea of witnessing a stage fight, which was all the more attractive on
account of having a fatal termination.

As the theatre tickets would cost but fifteen cents each, the boys felt
justified in purchasing each a cheap cigar, which they smoked as they
walked leisurely up Chatham Street.

CHAPTER XV.

THE ROOM UNDER THE WHARF.

It was at a late hour when the boys left the theatre. The play had been
of a highly sensational character, and had been greeted with
enthusiastic applause on the part of the audience, particularly the
occupants of the "p