“B-bed,” says he.
“Where?” says I.
“Hotel,” says he.
“There’s one,” I says, pointing right across the street, so we took our satchels and went over. There was a fellow behind a counter, and when we came up he sort of grinned and says good evening.
“How much does it cost to sleep here?” says Mark.
“Two dollars and a half is our cheapest room.”
“For both of us?”
“I guess I can make it three and a half for two.”
“I g-guess you can’t,” says Mark. “The way I look at it, no two boys can do three d-d-dollars and a half worth of sleepin’ in one night. Hain’t there no cheaper places?”
“Lots of ’em, young man. There’s a tramps’ lodging-house down the street where you can stay for ten cents.”