"I'm goin' to see if they won't give me some. If you hadn't cheated me, maybe I'd have invited you to dine with me at my hotel." "Where are you stoppin'?" asked the street boy, not quite knowing how much of Andy's story to believe. "At the most fashionable hotel." "Parker's?" "You're good at guessin'. Perhaps you'd like to dine there?" "I don't know as they'd let me in," said the boy, doubtfully; "but I'll show you where there's a nice eatin' house, where they don't charge half so much." "'Twouldn't be fashionable enough for me. I shall have to dine alone. See what comes of tryin' to fool your grandfather." Andy went on, leaving the boy in doubt whether his jest had really lost him a dinner. Andy didn't go to the Parker House, however. His expenses were to be paid by the Misses Grant, and he felt that it wouldn't be right to be extravagant at their expense. "I shall come across an eatin' house presently," he said to himself. Not far off he found one with the bill of fare exposed outside, with the prices. Andy examined it, and found that it was not an expensive place. He really felt hungry after his morning's ride, and determined, before he attended to his business, to get dinner. He accordingly entered, and seated himself at one of the tables. A waiter came up and awaited his commands. "What'll you have?" he asked. "Bring me a plate of roast beef, and a cup of coffee," said Andy, "and be quick about it, for I haven't eaten anything for three weeks." "Then I don't think one plate will be enough for you," said the waiter, laughing. "It'll do to begin on," said Andy. The order was quickly filled, and Andy set to work energetically. It is strange how we run across acquaintances when we least expect it. Andy had no idea that he knew anybody in the eating house, and therefore didn't look around, feeling no special interest in the company. Yet there was one present who recognized him as soon as he entered, and watched him with strong interest. The interest was not friendly, however, as might be inferred from the scowl with which he surveyed him. This will not be a matter of surprise to the reader when I say that the observer was no other than Fairfax, whose attempt to rob Colonel Preston had been defeated by Andy. He recognized the boy at once, both from his appearance and his voice, and deep feelings of resentment ran in his breast. To be foiled was disagreeable enough, but to be foiled by a boy was most humiliating, and he had vowed revenge, if ever an opportunity occurred. For this reason he felt exultant when he saw his enemy walking into the eating house. "I'll follow him," he said to himself, "and it'll go hard if I don't get even with him for that trick he played on me." But how did it happen that Andy did not recognize Fairfax?