"Hey?" snarled Mack, opening his mouth and showing his tobacco-stained tusks. "What business has a whipper-snapper like you to put in your oar?"
"I ain't a whipper-snapper!" retorted Albert, who did not know the meaning of the word, but concluded that it was not complimentary.
"Well, ma'am, what are you going to do? I can't stay here all day."
"Fred thought he would have the money by to-night. He asked if you would call round after he got home."
"When is that?"
"He generally gets home at seven o'clock."
"Then I'll be here at seven, but if you haven't the money, then out you go! Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then mind you remember it. With so many swindling tenants a landlord has a hard time."
He shambled off, and Mrs. Fenton breathed a sigh of temporary relief. All the afternoon she felt troubled and anxious, and her anxiety increased as the hours wore away.