Ben took out his pocketbook and tendered her a ten-dollar bill, the one he had just received from Mr. Griswold.
Mrs. Robinson, seeing the denomination of the bill, regarded Ben with increased respect.
“I am afraid I can’t change a ten,” she said.
“I believe I have a two here,” returned Ben, exploring his wallet.
“Very well. I will write you a receipt. What is your name?”
“Ben—that is, Benjamin Bruce.”
“I think we shall get along very well, Mr. Bruce,” said the landlady graciously. “I hope you will have success in getting a place.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you wish to sleep here to-night?”
Ben answered in the affirmative, and Mrs. Robinson gave him a latch-key.