Within five minutes Rodney was standing at a long table with a bowl
of coffee and a segment of bread before him. It wouldn't have been
attractive to one brought up to good living, as was the case with him,
but he was hungry.

He had eaten nothing since morning except an apple which he had bought
at a street stand for a penny, and his stomach urgently craved a fresh
supply of food.

Mike stood next to him. The young bootblack, who was used to nothing
better, ate his portion with zest, and glanced askance at Rodney to
see how he relished his supper. He was surprised to see that his more
aristocratic companion seemed to enjoy it quite as much as himself.

"I didn't think you'd like it," he said.

"Anything tastes good when you're hungry, Mike."

"That's so."

"And I haven't eaten anything except an apple, since morning."

"Is dat so? Why didn't you tell me? I'd have stood treat at de Boss
Tweed eatin' house."

"I had money, but I didn't dare to spend it. I was afraid of having
nothing left."

When Rodney had eaten his supper he felt that he could have eaten more,