Amos was nonplussed. In the days when the Center House was the Fairfax Inn there had been ample stable and coach room in the rear, but these existed no longer. While Morey made his way into the office of the hotel, Amos stood holding Betty’s bridle. Morey registered: “Mortimer Marshall and servant, Lee’s Court House, Va.”
“Want a regular room for the nigger?” asked the proprietor.
That had not occurred to Morey.
“What are your rates?” he asked, a little alarmed.
“Supper’s over,” explained the host, “unless you want a special meal. Reg’lar rates $2 per day.” Then he looked out and had another glance at Amos. “I reckon I kin make it half price fur the boy. But ef we git supper for you it’ll be extra.”
Morey made a rapid calculation. He was tired and hungry and wanted a bath. It couldn’t come to over $2.50.
“I am traveling,” he answered, “and a little tired. The accommodations along the road are not the best. If you have a young chicken I’d like it broiled with a baked potato, some hot biscuits, fruit and coffee. My boy will eat with me—”
“We’ve got ham and eggs and tea,” remarked the landlord.
“That will do very nicely,” replied Morey smiling.