"Well, it would have taken you three. But a bargain is a bargain, the world over. Did not you promise it?"--to Jacob. "Yah! und you shall haf him, too, if I be der loser. Yahcob Bunk ish not der man to go pack on his vort." "Vel, den," said old Hans, "von dollar sheventy-five to Monday morning." "There's the money; now let me have my dinner, for I am in a hurry." At the sight of money Hans at once became the most obsequious of hosts, and so would remain while it lasted. But Dennis saw that the moment it was gone his purchased courtesy would change, and he trembled at his narrow escape from being thrust out into the wintry streets, friendless, penniless, to beg or starve--equally hard alternatives to his mind. "Come, Yahcob, thou snail, give der shentlemans his dinner," said Hans. Jacob, who had been looking on with heavy, stolid face, now brightened up on seeing that all was right, and gave Dennis a double portion of the steaming pot-pie, and a huge mug of coffee. When Dennis had finished these and crowned his repast with a big dumpling, Jacob came to him with a face as long and serious as his harvest moon of a visage could be made, and said: "Dere ish nodding more in Chicago; you haf gleaned it out. Ve must vait dill der evenin' drain gomes pefore ve haf supper." "That will be time enough for me," said Dennis, laughing--for he could laugh to-day at little things--and started off again with his shovel. CHAPTER IX LAND AT LAST During the latter part of a busy afternoon, Dennis came to a spacious, elegant store before which the snow lay untouched save as trodden by passers-by. Over the high arched doorway was the legend in gilt letters, "Art Building"; and as far as a mere warehouse for beautiful things could deserve the title, this place did, for it was crowded with engravings, paintings, bronzes, statuary, and every variety of ornament. With delighted eyes and lingering steps he had passed slowly through this store a few days previous in his search, but had received the usual cool negative. He had gone reluctantly out into the cold street again as Adam went out of Paradise. A large florid-looking man with a light curling mustache now stood in the doorway. His appearance was unmistakably that of a German of the highest and most cultivated type. And yet, when he spoke, his English was so good that you detected only a foreign accent. Strong vexation was stamped upon his face as he looked at the snowy, untidy sidewalk. "Mr. Schwartz," he asked of one of his clerks, "was Pat here this morning?" "Yes, sir." "Was he perfectly straight?" "I cannot say that he was, sir." "He is off on a spree again. Send him to me the moment he returns." "Shall I clear your sidewalk?" said Dennis, stepping up and touching his hat respectfully. "Yes," said the gentleman, scarcely looking at him; "and when you have finished come to the office for your money;" and then he walked back into the store with a frowning brow.