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"Twenty years ago tonight," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy Wells, my best friend, and the finest man in the world. He and I were brought up here in New York, just like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our fate worked out and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."
"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meetings, though, it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"
"Well, yes, for a time we wrote," said the other. " But after a year or two we lost track of each other. You see, the West is a pretty big place, and I kept running around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, best old friend in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up." The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids 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?" asked the policeman.
