"Just down the street a step. I will show you if you wish it."
"Let us take a room together," suggested Jackson Walters, as they left the restaurant. "I hate to go in among perfect strangers, don't you?"
"Yes, but it couldn't be helped. I took a quarter bed, and there are six in a room."
"Humph! six! That's too many. How much do they want for a room for two?"
"Seventy-five cents each."
"Then I'll tell you what I'll do—I'll pay the dollar if you'll pay the fifty cents. Those rooms with six beds in are vile."
Ralph hesitated a moment, and then said he was agreeable. He, too, did not imagine, after some reflection, that the bed for a quarter of a dollar could be very good.
They soon reached the hotel, and Jackson Walters explained the new arrangement to the clerk. Ralph paid over another twenty-five cents, and his new friend the dollar, and then a boy was called to conduct them to room No. 96, on the third floor.
"Call me at half-past seven," said Jackson Walters. "I don't know when you want to get up," he said to Ralph.
"That will suit me, sir," was the boy's reply.