He began to wonder whether a fast of twenty-four hours would
seriously weaken a man, and, rather than make the experiment, he
again called up the Tivoli, rejoicing anew in the fact that there
was no toll on Isthmian messages. But again he was disappointed.
This time he was told that the Cortlandts were doubtless spending
the night out of town with friends.

Soon after his second return to the park, the concert ended, the
crowd melted away, and he found himself occupying a bench with a
negro of about the same age as himself. For perhaps an hour the
two sat there hearkening to the dying noises of the city; then
Kirk, unable to endure the monotony longer, turned sharply on his
companion and said:

"Why don't you go home?"

The negro started, his eyes flew open, then he laughed: "Oh, boss,
I got no home."

"Really?"

"No, sar."

Kirk reflected that he had found not only the right place, but
also fitting company, for his vigil.

"What does a person do in that case?" he asked.

"Oh, he goes to work, sar."