ady!" he warned
in a hasty whisper.

The other nodded sadly as he settled the big hat. "Yeppie," he returned.
"But y' see, sonny, it's this-away: if you got jes' one eye, w'y, they
make y' pay twicet!"

Another gasp. It was so grossly unfair!

However it had all proved to him beyond a doubt that here was a man of
unlimited wealth. On several occasions Uncle Albert's millionaire had
treated Johnnie to candy and apples. But now the riches of that person
seemed pitifully trivial.

They fared forth and away in the same order as they had come.

But not so silently. Food, it seemed, was what could rouse the one-eyed
man to continued speech. He began to ask questions, all of them to the
point, most of them embarrassing.

"Say, what in the name o' Sam Hill y' got cached inside that
shirt?"--this was the first one.

"Books," returned Johnnie, promptly, "and the orange."

"Y' kinda cotton t' books, eh?" the other next observed.

"Not cotton," replied Johnnie, politely. "They're made of paper."

"Y' don't tell me?--And what y' want me t' call y'?"

"My--my--my," began Johnnie, trying to think and speak at the same time,
with small success in either direction. Then feeling himself pressed
for time, and helpless, he fell back upon the best course, which was the
simple truth. "My name's Johnnie Smith," he added.

The truth was too simple to be believed, "Aw, git out!" laughed the
one-eyed man, with a comical lift of the mustache. "And I s'pose y' live
with the Vanderbilt fambly, eh?"

Johnnie's eyes sparkled. There was in the question a certain
something--an ignoring of bare facts--which made him believe that this
man and he were kindred souls.

"No, I don't live with 'em," he hastened to say. "But I talk to Mister
Vanderbilt ev'ry day on the tel'phone."

The stranger seemed neither doubtful nor amazed. Johnnie liked him
better and better. Taking a fresh hold of the other's horny hand, he
chattered on: "I talked to Mister Astor yesterday. He asked me t' go
ridin' with him, but I had t' take a trip t' Niagarry."

"Hope y' didn't hurt his feelin's none,"--the tone was grave: that one
green eye looked anxious.

Johnnie only shook his head. He did not care to go further with the
discussion of the Astor-Smith friendship.

However, the one-eyed man himself turned the conversation, "Goin' back
home t'night?" he wanted to know.

Johnnie raised startled eyes. "N-n-no," he returned. "I-i-if I was to,
I'd have to take a