God-fer-saken country; haint asked me ter set down fer a month. Back
home they're allus glad ter have a man eat with 'em. I'll sure be all
right thar."

The fellow's voice dropped to the pitiful, pleading, insinuating whine
of the professional tramp.

The young man stood looking at him. Good-for-nothing was written in
every line of the shiftless, shambling figure, and pictured in every
rag of the fluttering raiment, and yet--the fellow really was
hungry,--and again came the thought of that fifteen cents. The young
man was hungry himself; had been hungry many a time in the past, and
downright, gnawing, helpless hunger is a great leveler of mankind; in
fact, it is just about the only real bond of fellowship between men.
"Come on," he said at last, "I've got fifteen cents; I reckon we can
find something to eat." And the two set out toward the city together.

Passing a deserted mining shaft and crossing the railroad, they entered
the southern portion of the town, and continued west until they reached
the main street, where they stopped at a little grocery store on the
corner. The one with the fifteen cents invested two-thirds of his
capital in crackers and cheese, his companion reminding the grocer
meanwhile that he might throw in a little extra, "seein' as how they
were the first customers that mornin'." The merchant, good-naturedly
did so, and then turned to answer the other's question about work.

"What can you do?"

"I'm a printer by trade, but will do anything."