HOGAN MEETS A CONGENIAL SPIRIT
When Hogan left Joe’s presence he was far from feeling as grateful
as he ought for the kindness with which our hero had treated him.
Instead of feeling thankful for the bountiful supper, he was angry
because Joe had not permitted him to remain through the night. Had
he obtained this favor, he would have resented the refusal to take
him into partnership. There are some men who are always soliciting
favors, and demanding them as a right, and Hogan was one of them.
Out in the street he paused a minute, undecided where to go. He had
no money, as he had truly said, or he would have been tempted to go
to a gambling-house, and risk it on a chance of making more.
“Curse that boy!” he muttered, as he sauntered along in the
direction of Telegraph Hill. “Who’d have thought a green country
clodhopper would have gone up as he has, while an experienced man
of the world like me is out at the elbows and without a cent!”
The more Hogan thought of this, the more indignant he became.
He thrust both hands into his pantaloons pockets, and strode
moodily on.
“I say it’s a cursed shame!” he muttered. “I never did have any
luck, that’s a fact. Just see how luck comes to some. With only a
dollar or two in his pocket, this Joe got trusted for a first-class
passage out here, while I had to come in the steerage. Then,
again, he meets some fool, who sets him up in business. Nobody
ever offered to set me up in business!” continued Hogan, feeling
aggrieved at Fortune for her partiality. “Nobody even offered to
give me a start in life. I have to work hard, and that’s all the
good it does.”
The fact was that Hogan had not done a whole day’s work for years.
But such men are very apt to deceive themselves and possibly he
imagined himself a hard-working man.
“It’s disgusting to see the airs that boy puts on,” he continued
to soliloquize. “It’s nothing but luck. He can’t help getting on,
with everybody to help him. Why didn’t he let me sleep in his place
to-night? It wouldn’t have cost him a cent.”
Then Hogan drifted off into calculations of how much money Joe was
making by his business. He knew the prices charged for meals and
that they afforded a large margin of profit.
The more he thought of it, the more impressed he was with the
extent of Joe’s luck.
“The boy must be making his fortune,” he said to himself. “Why, he
can’t help clearing from one to two hundred dollars a week--perhaps
more. It’s a money-making business, there’s no doubt of it. Why
couldn’t he take me in as partner? That would set me on my legs
again, and in time I’d be rich. I’d make him sell out, and get the
whole thing after awhile.”
So Hogan persuaded himself into the conviction that Joe ought to
have accepted him as partner, though why this should be, since his
only claim rested on his successful attempt to defraud him in New
York, it would be difficult to conjecture.
Sauntering slowly along, Hogan had reached the corner of Pacific
Street, then a dark and suspicious locality in the immediate
neighborhood of a number of low public houses of bad reputation.
The night was dark, for there was no moon.
Suddenly he felt himself seized in a tight grip, while a low, stern
voice in his ear demanded:
“Your money, and be quick about it!”
Hogan was not a brave man, but this demand, in his impecunious
condition, instead of terrifying him, struck his sense of humor as
an exceedingly good joke.
“You’ve got the wrong man!” he chuckled.
“Stop your fooling, and hand over your money, quickly!” was the
stern rejoinder.
“My dear friend,” said Hogan, “if you can find any money about me,
it’s more than I can do myself.”
“Are you on the square?” demanded the other suspiciously.
“Look at me, and see.”
The highwayman took him at his word. Lighting a match, he surveyed
his captive.
“You don’t look wealthy, that’s a fact,” he admitted. “Where are
you going?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t got any money, nor any place to sleep.”
“Then you’d better be leaving this place, or another mistake may be
made.”
“Stop!” said Hogan, with a sudden thought. “Though I haven’t any
money, I can tell you where we can both find some.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
“Come in here, then, and come to business.”
He led Hogan into a low shanty on Pacific Street, and, bidding him
be seated on a broken settee, waited for particulars.