Peter looked anxious and alarmed, and glanced askance at his companion.
By this time they had reached the miser's quarters, and Peter, taking out a key, opened the door.
He opened it just sufficiently to admit himself, and was then about to close it when Randall, unceremoniously pushing him aside, entered also.
"By your leave, Peter, I will spend a short time with you."
"I have no fire," said Peter Manson, hastily.
"I dare say not," said Randall, carelessly, "but you can easily kindle one."
"I—I have no fuel."
"None at all?"
"Why, a little—a very little," stammered Peter, uneasily.