"Carriage, sir?" asked a hackman.
Grit answered in the negative, feeling that to one in his circumstances it would be foolish extravagance to spend money for a carriage. But this was succeeded by the thought that time was valuable, and as he did not know where Essex Street was, it might consume so much to find out the place indicated in the letter that he might miss the opportunity of seeing Mr. Weaver.
"How far is Essex Street from here?" he asked.
"Three or four miles," promptly answered the hackman.
"Is there any street-car line that goes there?"
"Oh, bless you, no."
Neither of these answers was correct, but Grit did not know this.
"How much will you charge to take me to No. —— Essex Street?"
"Seein' it's you, I'll take you for a dollar and a quarter."
Grit was about to accept this offer, when a quiet-looking man beside him said: