“I left him in New York,” she said. “I suppose he'll blow in all his money as soon as he can possibly manage to do so.” And she laughed and did another “shuffle” with her feet upon the floor of the car. VII. -- THE NEEDY OUTSIDER There was animation at the Nocturnal Club at three o'clock in the morning. The city reporters who had been dropping in since midnight were now reinforced by telegraph editors, for the country editions of the big dailies were already being rushed in light wagons over the sounding stones to the railroad stations. The cheery and urbane African--naturally called Delmonico by the habitués of the Nocturnal Club--found his time crowded in serving bottled beer, sandwiches, or boiled eggs to the groups around the tables. To a large group in the back room Fetterson related how he had once missed the last car at the distant extremity of West Philadelphia, and, failing to find a cab west of Broad Street, had walked fifty blocks after midnight and had still succeeded in getting his report in the second edition and thus making a “beat on the town.” Then spoke up a needy outsider whom Fetterson had brought in at one o'clock. I neglected to mention Fetterson's penchant for queer company. It is quite right that reporters know policemen, are on chaffing terms with night cabmen, and have large acquaintance with pugilists and even with “crooks.” But Fetterson picks up the most remarkable and out-of-the-way--not to speak of out-at-elbows--specimens of mankind, craft in distress on the sea of humanity. The needy outsider was his latest acquisition. It is enough to say of this destitute acquaintance of Fetterson's that he was a ragged man needing a shave. In daylight, in the country, you would have termed him a tramp. Hitherto he had sat in our group in silence. When he opened his mouth to discourse, it was natural that he should have a prompt and somewhat curious hearing. “Speaking of walking,” he said, “I have walked a bit in my time. Mostly, though, I've rode--on freight-cars. The longest straight tramp I ever made was from Harrisburg to Philadelphia once when the trains weren't running. The cold weather made walking unpleasant. But what do you think of a woman--no tramp woman, either--starting from Pittsburg to walk to Philadelphia?” “Oh, there is a so-called actress who recently walked from San Francisco to New York,” put in some one.