Bleecker Street once stood in better repute than at present. It is said that A. T. Stewart once made his home there. Now it is given over to shops and cheap lodging houses.
Finally the boys found a room decently furnished, about ten feet square, of which the rental was two dollars and a half per week. Mike succeeded in beating down the lodging house keeper to two dollars, and at that figure they engaged it.
“When will you come?” asked Mrs. McCarty.
“Right off,” said Mike.
“I’ll need a little time to put it in order.”
“Me and my partner will be at our business till six o’clock,” returned Mike.
“You can send in your trunks during the day if you like.”
“My trunk is at the Windsor Hotel,” said Mike. “I’ve lent it to a friend for a few days.”
Mrs. McCarty looked at Mike with a puzzled expression. She was one of those women who are slow to comprehend a joke, and she could not quite make it seem natural that her new lodger, who was in rather neglige costume, should be a guest at a fashionable hotel.
“I will leave my valise,” said Rodney, “and will send for my trunk. It is in the country.”