Page:The Voice of the City (1908).djvu/107

 flavored him mustily; razors and combs had passed him by; in him drink had been bottled and sealed in the devil’s bond. He begged a match, which is the form of introduction among park benchers, and then he began to talk.

“You’re not one of the regulars,” he said to Vallance. “I know tailored clothes when I see ’em. You just stopped for a moment on your way through the park. Don’t mind my talking to you for a while? I’ve got to be with somebody. I’m afraid—I’m afraid. I’ve told two or three of those bummers over there about it. They think I’m crazy. Say—let me tell you—all I’ve had to eat to-day was a couple of bretzels and an apple. To-morrow I’ll stand in line to inherit three millions; and that restaurant you see over there with the autos around it will be too cheap for me to eat in. Don’t believe it, do you?”

“Without the slightest trouble,” said Vallance, with a laugh. “I lunched there yesterday. To-night I couldn’t buy a five-cent cup of coffee.”

“You don’t look like one of us. Well, I guess those things happen. I used to be a high-flyer myself—some years ago. What knocked you out of the game?”

“I—oh, I lost my job,” said Vallance.

“It’s undiluted Hades, this city,” went on the other. “One day you’re eating from china; the next you are eating in China—a chop-suey joint. I’ve had more than my share of hard luck. For five years I’ve