“Can you pay me the first week in advance?” asked the landlady, cautiously.
Dick responded by drawing seventy-five cents from his pocket, and placing it in her hand.
“What’s your business, sir, if I may inquire?” said Mrs. Mooney.
“Oh, I’m professional!” said Dick.
“Indeed!” said the landlady, who did not feel much enlightened by this answer.
“How’s Tom?” asked Dick.
“Do you know my Tom?” said Mrs. Mooney in surprise. “He’s gone to sea,—to Californy. He went last week.”
“Did he?” said Dick. “Yes, I knew him.”
Mrs. Mooney looked upon her new lodger with increased favor, on finding that he was acquainted with her son, who, by the way, was one of the worst young scamps in Mott Street, which is saying considerable.
“I’ll bring over my baggage from the Astor House this evening,” said Dick in a tone of importance.