Tom was doing some rapid thinking.
“I don’t suppose you know of a good place in town; do you?” went on the other. “My name is Fitch—Jack Fitch. I’m from New York city.”
“Mine’s Tom Fairfield, from Briartown,” said our hero.
“Well, Tom Fairfield, have you been here long enough to recommend a place to room, where I can also get the eats; especially the eats, for I’m a good feeder. Know of a likely place?”
Tom’s mind was made up.
“Yes, there’s a place here,” he said.
“Here? Are you stringing me? They told me every room was taken.”
“So it is, but I have a large double one, and I was looking for a chum. So—”
“You don’t mean you’ll take me in?” cried Jack. “Oh, end the suspense! Fireman save my child! Don’t torture me!” and he gave a good imitation of a woe-begone actor.