A stout woman, in a dirty calico loose-gown, was sitting in a chair, with a fat, unhealthy-looking baby in her lap.
“What you want, little gal?” she asked.
“Where’s your lodgin’?” asked Tom.
“In back,” answered the woman, pointing to an inner room, partially revealed through a half-open door. It was dark, having no windows, and dirtier, if possible, than the front room. The floor was covered with straw, for beds and bedsteads were looked upon as unnecessary luxuries in this economical lodging-house.
“Is that the place?” asked Tom.
“Yes. Do you want to stop here to-night?”
Tom had not been accustomed to first-class hotels, still the accommodations at granny’s were rather better than this. However, the young Arab did not mind. She had no doubt she could sleep comfortably on the straw, and intimated her intention of stopping.
“Where’s your money?” asked the woman.
The invariable rule in this establishment was payment in advance, and, perhaps, considering the character of the customers, it was the safest rule that could be adopted.
Tom took out her money, and counted out five cents into the woman’s palm. She then put back the remainder in her pocket. If she had been less sleepy, she might have noticed the woman’s covetous glance, and been led to doubt the safety of her small fortune. But Tom was sleepy, and her main idea was to go to bed as soon as possible.