"One will be sufficient for the present." "So you're comin' here to live?" she said, sociably. "Yes, Eva." "I hope you don't have fits, like Mr. Warren." "I don't think I ever had one yet," answered Andy, with a smile. "I'm glad of that. I'm afraid of gentlemen that have fits." Eva went downstairs, and Andy proceeded to make his ablutions. It was a dusty day, and the water was refreshing. After he had washed his face and hands he opened his gripsack and took out his brush and comb, which he placed on a tiny bureau in one corner of the room. It contained two drawers, and in one of them he put away the contents of the valise. By this time it was half-past ten, and he put on his hat and went downstairs. He went out into the street, and after a moment of indecision walked to Broadway. He thought he could not do better than to walk down this wonderful thoroughfare, of which he had heard so much. It did occur to him that he might report at the jewelry store, but he would see enough of that hereafter and he preferred to take a little walk about the city. Andy used his eyes to good advantage. He looked in at the shop windows, and watched the human tide that swept by him. Finally he found himself accosted by one of the passersby. "My young friend, could you oblige me with a quarter to take me to Newark? My pocket has been picked, and--" All this seemed familiar. Andy looked up and recognized at once the stranger whom he had relieved in front of the Grand Central Depot. "When did you get back from Yonkers?" he asked, abruptly. "I never was in Yonkers." "I gave you a quarter only an hour or two ago to get to your sick sister in Yonkers." Muttering that there was some mistake, the man hurried away, looking confused. "I wonder if I shall ever meet him again?" thought Andy. CHAPTER XV. ANDY'S OPPOSITE NEIGHBOR. Andy walked about the city, using his eyes industriously. At one o'clock he went into a restaurant on Park Row, where he got a fair lunch for twenty-five cents. This was more than he intended to pay usually, but on this first day in the city he did not care to go back to the boarding house. After lunch he made his way to the entrance of the Brooklyn Bridge, and got into one of the cars. He enjoyed the prospect visible from the windows, and felt that this alone would pay him for visiting New York. Just before they reached the other end there was a cry of alarm from a stout German woman who sat on the other side of the car. "I've been robbed!" she exclaimed. "My purse is gone!" Of course this attracted general attention. "Was there much in the purse, madam?" asked a kind-looking, elderly man. "Yes, there was six dollars--it was a great deal to me." "Are you sure you had it when you entered the car?" "Yes; I took it out of my pocket when I paid for a ticket." "I think your pocket must have been picked."