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.