More than once in Oliver Hitchcock's old saloon, farther up the same street, Horace Greeley, the elder Bennett, and Raymond, of the _Times_, could be found at the plain tables, unprovided with cloths, but bearing appetizing dishes. When Ben entered the restaurant at half-past eleven he was surprised to find most of the tables occupied. Coming from the country, where ten o'clock found nearly every one in bed, he was much surprised to find so many persons up and engaged in supping. "People in New York seem to sit up all night," he thought. He took a vacant seat, and the waiter soon coming up to him, stood in silent expectation of an order. "Give me a cup of coffee and a sandwich," said Ben. "What kind?" "Ham." The waiter sped on his errand, and soon set before our hero a cup of fragrant coffee, steaming hot, and a sandwich made of tender meat and fresh bread, which tasted delicious to the hungry boy--so delicious that he resolved to forego the intended piece of pie and ordered another. While he was eating the second sandwich, he observed that a young man, sitting just opposite, was eyeing him attentively. He was tall, dark-complexioned, slender, and had a kindly face. "You seem to relish your supper, Johnny," he said. "Yes, I do, but my name isn't Johnny." The young man smiled. "Excuse me," he said, "but in New York we call boys by that name, if we don't know their real names. I suppose you have not been here long?" "No; I only arrived this afternoon." "Come to make your fortune, eh?" "Well, I don't know. I should like to, but if I can make a living it is all I expect. Besides, I have another object," added the boy, slowly. "Were you ever here before?" "No, sir." "You are up rather late. You don't sit up so late in the country, do you?" "Oh, no, I am in bed by nine o'clock generally." "We don't go to bed early here. I myself haven't been in bed before midnight for three years." "Do you like to sit up so late?" asked Ben. "I didn't at first. Now I am used to it. My business keeps me up late." Seeing that Ben looked curious, he added: "I am a reporter on a morning paper." "Do you like it?" asked Ben, doubtfully. "Oh, yes. It isn't a bad business." "What paper do you write for?" asked Ben, with considerable respect for a man who wrote for the papers. "I used to work on the _Sun_. Now I'm on the _Herald_. It suits me very well while I am a young man, but I should like a different position when I am older." "Is it hard work?"