"No; it might seem odd, and the proposal may be genuine. I'll tell you what to do, my boy. That is, if you feel confidence in me."
"I do, and shall be glad of your advice."
"Come to the Parker House after your interview, and inquire for Benjamin Baker."
"I will, sir, and thank you."
When the hack drew up in front of No. —— Essex Street, the stranger got out with Grit.
"I am calling close by," he said, "and won't ride any farther. Here is the fare for both."
"But, sir," said Grit, "it is not right that you should pay my fare for me."
"It is all right," said Mr. Baker. "I have more money than you, probably, my young friend. Besides, meeting with you has saved me some trouble."
This speech puzzled Grit, but he did not feel like asking any explanation.
He glanced with some interest at the house where he was to meet Mr. Weaver. It was a three-story brick house, with a swell front, such as used to be very popular in Boston thirty or forty years since. It was very quiet in appearance, and there was nothing to distinguish it from its neighbors on either side.