The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch,/the lid of it set with small diamonds.//
　“Three minutes to ten,”/he announced.// “It was exactly ten o’clock/when we parted here/at the restaurant door.”//
　“Did pretty well out West,/didn’t you?”/commented the police officer.//
　“You bet!// I hope/Jimmy has done half as well.// He was a good fellow,/though kind of a plodder.// I’ve had to compete/with some of the sharpest wits/going to get my pile.// A man gets in a groove in New York.// It takes the West/to put a razor sharp edge on him.”//
　The police officer twirled his club/and took a step or two.//
　“I’ll be on my way.// Hope your friend comes around/all right.// Are you going to call time on him sharp?”//
　“No way!”/said the other.// “I’ll give him half an hour at least.// If Jimmy is alive on earth/he’ll be here by that time.// So long,/officer.”//
　“Good-night,/sir,”/said the police officer,/continuing on along his beat,/trying doors as he went.//
　There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling,/and the wind had risen/from uncertain puffs into a steady blow.// The few foot passengers in that quarter/hurried dismally and silently along/with coat collars turned high/and hands in pockets.// And,/in the door of the hardware store,/the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment,/uncertain almost to absurdity,/with the friend of his youth,/smoked his cigar and waited.//
　About twenty minutes he waited,/and then a tall man in a long overcoat,/with collar turned up to his ears,/hurried across from the opposite side of the street.// He went directly to the waiting man.//
　“Is that you,/Bob?”/he asked, doubtfully.//
　“Is that you,/Jimmy Wells?”/cried the man in the door.//
　“Bless my heart!”/exclaimed the new arrival,/grasping both of the other’s hands with his own.// “It’s Bob,/sure as fate.// I was certain/I’d find you here/if you were still in existence.// Well, well, well!// Twenty years is a long time.// The old restaurant’s gone,/Bob;/I wish it had lasted,/so we could have had another dinner there.// How has the West treated you,/old man?”//
　“Terrific!// It has given me everything/I asked it for.// You’ve changed lots,/Jimmy.// I never thought/you were so tall/— by two or three inches.”//
　“Oh,/I grew a bit/after I was twenty.”//
　“Doing well in New York,/Jimmy?”//
　“Moderately.// I have a position/in one of the city departments.// Come on, Bob;/we’ll go around to a place/I know of,/and have a good long talk about old times.”//