"I am in New York," he reflected, with a thrill of joy. "But where is Mr. Brown?" He looked in vain for his companion, but no suspicion was excited in his mind. "He didn't want to wake me up," he thought. "I suppose he has gone to his business." He stretched himself, and lay a little longer. It was a pleasant thought that there was no stern taskmaster to force him up. He might lie as long as he wanted to, till noon, if he chose. Perhaps he might have chosen, but the claims of a healthy appetite asserted themselves, and Sam sprang out of bed. "I'll have a good breakfast," he said to himself, "and then I must look around and see if I can't find something to do; my money will soon be out." It was natural that he should have felt for his money, at that moment, but he did not. No suspicion of Mr. Brown's integrity had entered his mind. You see Sam was very unsophisticated at that time, and, though he had himself committed a theft, he did not suspect the honesty of others. "I suppose I shall have to go without thanking Mr. Brown, as he don't seem to be here," he reflected. "Perhaps I shall see him somewhere about the streets. I've saved a dollar anyway, or at least seventy-five cents," he added, thinking of the quarter he had lent his hospitable entertainer the evening before. "Perhaps he'll let me sleep here again to-night. It'll be a help to me, as long as I haven't got anything to do yet." Still Sam did not feel for his money, and was happily unconscious of his loss. He opened his door, and found his way downstairs into the street without difficulty. The halls and staircases looked even more dingy and shabby in the daytime than they had done in the evening. "It isn't a very nice place to live," thought Sam. "However, I suppose Mr. Brown will be rich when his uncle dies. I wish he was rich now; he might give me a place." "Shine yer boots?" asked a small knight of the brush. "No," said Sam, who had grown economical; "they don't need it." He walked on for five minutes or more. Presently he came to an eating-house. He knew it by the printed bills of fare which were placarded outside. "Now, I'll have some breakfast," he thought, with satisfaction, and he entered confidently. CHAPTER XIV. BOUNCED! Sam sat down at a table, and took up the bill of fare. A colored waiter stood by, and awaited his orders. "Bring me a plate of beefsteak, a cup of coffee, and some tea-biscuit," said Sam, with the air of a man of fortune. "All right, sir," said the waiter. "After all, it's pleasant living in New York," thought Sam, as he leaned back in his chair, and awaited in pleasant anticipation the fulfilment of his order. "It's different from livin' at the deacon's. Here a feller can be independent."