“We will have to walk a few blocks, unless you want to take a carriage.”
“It isn’t necessary. I am strong, in spite of my gray hair.”
And indeed he appeared to be.
Dodger noticed that he walked with the elastic step of a young man, while his face certainly showed no trace of wrinkles.
“I live in the West,” said the stranger, as they walked along. “I have not been here for ten years.”
“Then you have never ridden on the elevated road?” said Dodger.
“N-no,” answered the stranger, with curious hesitation.
Yet when they reached the station he went up the staircase and purchased his ticket with the air of a man who was thoroughly accustomed to doing it.
“I suppose you don’t want me any longer,” said Dodger, preparing to resign the valise he was carrying, and which, by the way, was remarkably light considering the size.
“Yes, I shall need you,” said the other hurriedly. “There may be some distance to walk after we get uptown.”