Ned finished the cakes in short order. The coffee was hot if nothing else, but Ned was surprised at the small place in his big appetite which the cakes filled. He almost felt like ordering more but decided it would be rash to reduce his capital to five cents. As it was now, when he had paid for his breakfast, he would have fifteen cents left out of the thirty. With the pasteboard check which the girl had left at his plate, in his hand, Ned approached the cashier's desk in the front part of the restaurant. His fingers went into the change pocket of his overcoat, searching for the money. He could feel nothing but the lining. A blank look came over his face. He was sure he had put the money back into that pocket as he finished counting it when he sat on the edge of his bed. Yet it was not there. Hurriedly he felt in all his other pockets. Meanwhile several customers behind him were impatiently waiting to pay their checks. "One side," said the cashier in a gruff tone, as he saw Ned fumbling through his pockets. "What's the matter with you? Left your memory home?" "I think I've lost my money," Ned answered, his voice trembling a little. "Then you've got another think coming," the clerk said in an ugly tone. "I've heard that story before." "What story?" asked Ned. "About forgetting your money. Left it in the bank I s'pose, or home on the pianer, or you've got to have a check cashed. What is it, speak quick, I've got no time to fool." While he was talking, the man was busy making change for other customers who walked past Ned. "Do you mean that you think I'm trying to cheat you?" asked the boy. "I don't mean anything if you pay for what you've eaten. If you don't pay--well--there's a cop just around the corner, and we've had your same kind in here before." By this time Ned stood alone in front of the desk, as the line of waiting men had passed out. "I had my money when I came in here," said the boy. "Or at least I think I did. I had it a little while before, I'm sure, for I counted it. There was thirty cents--" "That's what you look like now," the cashier interrupted, with a coarse laugh at his joke. "It'll be thirty days for yours if you don't settle up." "But I haven't got the money," replied poor Ned. "Then you shouldn't have eaten anything. Do you think we're feedin' beggars here?" "I thought I had the money when I ordered the cakes," Ned replied, staring helplessly at the fifteen cent check in his hand. "Say, young feller, that's too thin. It don't go here any more. I've been stung too often with that yarn. You'll pay for your grub or you'll be arrested, see? Have you got the money; yes or no?" "I haven't--but if--" "Yes, if we let you go you'll stop in on your way from the bank and give us a check! No you don't! A fellow gave me that song and dance last week. Jim, call the cop," and the cashier nodded to one of the men waiters. "Are you going to have me arrested?" exclaimed Ned.