"I thank you for trying for me," he said; "there is nothing for me now but the river. I have occupied this room in the hope of paying my rent when I realized from that invention, but I have no longer any expectations, and I had better go and drown myself."
Then for the first time Mr. Meyer realized that there was another person in the room. Jim had come down to the court to see his old friends, and had dropped in to inquire after Mr. Trimble's son, a merry little fellow who had been a playmate of his in the old days. Jim had retreated into a corner when the agent called, but he now sprang forward and threw his arms around the poor inventor's neck.
"No, no!" he cried; "Mr. Meyer will beg Mr. Rickett to let you stay until the first of the month, and something may turn up by that time."
Some sense of shame prompted Solomon Meyer to yield to this request, though in his secret heart he knew that his own plans could be more safely carried out if his victim did drown himself; and the sooner the better. Then he hurried away to collect rents of the new tenants, with the money which Mr. Armstrong had sent Stephen Trimble burning like a coal in his pocket.
The contract for the new invention was returned to Mr. Armstrong at the same time with the estimates of the different mechanics for the improvements of Rickett's Court. It would cost three thousand dollars to put the tenement in decent repair, and this did not include the fire-escape. Mr. Armstrong whistled as he added up the items. It was really not convenient for him to place his hand on so much ready cash; certainly not without using the money which he had placed in the savings bank to Adelaide's credit. Mr. Meyer stood cringing before him, and Mr. Armstrong explained the situation.
The agent promptly disapproved of the improvements. They would be a great waste of money. No one would rent the tenements after they were repaired, for it would be necessary to charge a higher rent, and tenants able to pay it, or desiring bathrooms and sanitary plumbing, would not occupy such a quarter of the city.
"But suppose I do not charge any more rent, but simply try to educate my old tenants to better habits of life?"
Mr. Meyer explained that Mr. Armstrong could throw away his money in that way if he wished, but that the class of tenants who patronized Rickett's Court could not be educated. They preferred filth to cleanliness, and, however respectable their quarters were made, would soon convert them into sinks again.
Mr. Armstrong reminded his agent that his best tenants had left him, that the house was practically deserted, and that something must be done to attract new occupants.
Mr. Meyer assured him that applications had already been received for the rooms in their present state. A ship-load of emigrants had just arrived: Polish Jews and exiled Russians, who had been imprisoned as Nihilists, and who had suffered such barbarities that Rickett's Court, horrible as it was, seemed positively comfortable to them.