"Then pay me my rent," said the landlord, recoiling a little.
"Put down that bundle before you say another word about rent. It isn't my mother's or mine. You have no business with it."
"What do you mean, boy, by your impudence?" demanded the landlord, a little uneasily.
"I mean that if you take that bundle from the room, I shall put you in charge of the nearest policeman on a charge of stealing."
"That is nonsense," said Grab; but he looked nervous, and laid down the bundle.
"All right, Grab," said Dan. "Now, as I don't want any more of your company, I'll pay the rent, if you'll give me a receipt."
"Have you got the money?" asked Grab, astonished.
"Of course I have. I never told you I hadn't."
"You made me think so."
"It isn't my business what you think. There, that is settled, and now, Mr. Grab, I have the honor of wishing you good-evening. I hope you won't hurt your knuckles again."