“I’m afraid not, but I’d be glad to have you come in and take tea with me.”
“Oh, no; I wouldn’t like to trouble you.”
“It will be no trouble at all. I am all alone this evening, as my wife and daughters have gone to Symphony Hall to a concert. Come in, for it will take me some time to look over these papers, and prepare my answer.”
Tom was too hungry to be bashful, and he was soon seated at a table bountifully spread, while a neatly-dressed servant brought him a hot cup of tea, which was grateful after the long cold ride.
The gentleman was so busily engaged with the legal documents that he did not get a chance to eat with Tom, who was all alone at the table, which the boy did not regret, as his appetite was particularly good, and he did not want to feel embarrassed by dining with a stranger.
“There, I think that covers it,” said the gentleman at length, as he handed Tom a bundle of papers. “Tell Mr. Keen I will see him at court, in the morning. Did you manage to make out a meal?”
“Yes, sir, and I thank you very much.”
It was nearly nine o’clock when Tom reached the office of the law firm in Washington Street. He went up to the big front doors and he did not have to knock, as Mr. Keen had told him to do, as the watchman was on the lookout for him.
“Is it cold out,” asked the old man, who had charge of the building nights.
“It’s getting colder,” remarked Tom. “Feels like snow, too.”