The old man laughed. “Why, Archimedes! I thought you were dead.”
“My name ain’t Archimedes. It’s Charley Huyck.”
Again the old man laughed.
“Oh, is it? Well, that’s a good name, too. And if you keep on you’ll make it famous as the name of the other.” Wherein he was foretelling history. “Where do you live?”
The boy was still looking. Ordinarily he would not have told, but he motioned back with his thumb.
“I don’t live; I room over on Brennan Street.”
“Oh, I see. You room. Where’s your mother?”
“Search me; I never saw her.”
“I see; and your father?”
“How do I know. He went floating when I was four years old.”