He began to wonder whether a fast of twenty-four hours would seriously weaken a man, and, rather than make the experiment, he again called up the Tivoli, rejoicing anew in the fact that there was no toll on Isthmian messages. But again he was disappointed. This time he was told that the Cortlandts were doubtless spending the night out of town with friends. Soon after his second return to the park, the concert ended, the crowd melted away, and he found himself occupying a bench with a negro of about the same age as himself. For perhaps an hour the two sat there hearkening to the dying noises of the city; then Kirk, unable to endure the monotony longer, turned sharply on his companion and said: "Why don't you go home?" The negro started, his eyes flew open, then he laughed: "Oh, boss, I got no home." "Really?" "No, sar." Kirk reflected that he had found not only the right place, but also fitting company, for his vigil. "What does a person do in that case?" he asked. "Oh, he goes to work, sar." "For the night, I mean. Are you going to stay here until morning?" "Yes, sar, if the policeman will h'admit of it." The fellow's dialect was so strange that Kirk inquired: "Where did you come from?" "Jamaica, sar. I was barn on the narth coast of the h'island, sar." "Did you just arrive here?" "Oh, Lard, no! I 'ave been a liver here for two year." "A liver!" Kirk could not help smiling. "Yes, sar! Sometimes I labor on the docks, again in the h'office. Lahst week lose I my position, and to-day my room h'also. Landladies is bad females, sar, very common." "You've been shooting craps," said Kirk, accusingly. "Crops, sar! What is crops?" "You don't know what craps is! I mean you've been gambling." "Oh, boss, I h'invest my money." "Indeed!" "Lahst Sunday nearly won I the big prize. I 'ad h'all but three numbers." "Lottery ticket, eh?" "H'eight! H'eight chawnces in all," the negro sighed. "But dreams is false, sar." "So I've heard. Well, it seems we're in the same boat this beautiful evening. I have no place to sleep, either." "You are humbugging me." "No, I'm flat broke." "Oh, chot me true, mon." "I am chatting you true. I'm an outcast of fortune like yourself." "Such talk! You make I laugh this house." "What?" "You make I laugh," repeated the other in a broad Devonshire dialect. "Praise God, you h'appear like a gentleman." "I trust this little experience will not permanently affect my social standing. By-the-way, what is your name?" "H'Allan." "Hallan?" "No, sar. H'Allan." "Is that your first or last name?" "Both, sar--h'Allan h'Allan." "Mr. Allan Allan, you're unusually dark for a Scotchman," said Kirk, gravely. "Now, speaking as one gentleman to another, do you happen to know where we can get a hand-out?" "'And-out?" inquired the puzzled negro.