"What's your name?" asked Rufus, remembering that he had never heard the name of his guide.
"They call me Humpy," said the deformed boy, flushing a little. He had got hardened to the name, he thought; but now that Rufus asked him, he answered with a feeling of shame and reluctance.
"Haven't you another name? I don't like to call you that."
"My name is William Norton, but I've most forgot it, it's so long since anybody ever called me so."
"Then I'll call you so. I like it better than the other. Have you made up your mind what to do, now you've left your old place?"
"Yes, I'm going out West,—to Chicago maybe."
"Why do you leave New York?"
"I want to get away from him," said William, indicating his old employer by a backward jerk of his finger. "If I stay here, he'll get hold of me."
"Perhaps you are right; but you needn't go so far as Chicago. Philadelphia would do."
"He goes there sometimes."