“Where is it, Paul?”
“In Ludlow Street.”
“Then let us go—at once. James might change his mind, and come round tonight. I don’t want to see him. He is a bold, bad man.”
Paul suggested that they had better not leave word with the neighbors where they were going, as this might furnish a clew to James Barclay, and put him on his father’s track.
Old Jerry eagerly assented to this, and the two started for their new home. They had very little to carry—at any rate, this was the case with the miser, and Paul’s wardrobe was not too extensive for him to carry it all with him at once.
When Jerry saw the room that Paul had engaged he was alarmed.
“This—this is too fine for us, Paul,” he said. “We can’t afford to pay for it. How much is the rent?”
“Six dollars a month,” answered Paul.
“We shall be ruined!” ejaculated Jerry, turning pale.