"Indeed!"
The Rev. C. Floyd adjusted his spectacles, and looked curiously at Tommy.
"My boy!" he exclaimed, "what do you want here at this hour of the evening?"
"If you please, sir," replied Tommy, "I'm a stranger here. I'm lost, and I thought you might allow me to sleep somewhere till morning."
"Have you no home?"
"Not here. I'm from America, and only came up from Liverpool to-day."
"Dear me," said the Rev. C. Floyd. "That is a curious coincidence. My son only arrived yesterday. You say you are from America. Now we will test the accuracy of your story. Perhaps you are an impostor. If so, you will be turned out; if not, you shall receive shelter."
"Thank you, sir," answered Tommy, peeping curiously at the young gentlemen on the threshold.
"Mary, my dear," exclaimed the Rev. C. Floyd, "will you kindly call down our prodigal son, who, I have reason to believe, is smoking a pipe in his bedroom, contrary to my express orders."
Mrs. Floyd, having recovered from her fright at seeing a stranger in the house, went upstairs, and presently returned with a young man.