“All right!” answered Phil, relieved to find a guide in the labyrinth of the great city.
“I live on Fifth Street, near the Bowery—a very convenient location,” said Orlando, if we may take the liberty to call him thus.
“Fifth Avenue?” asked Phil, who did not know the difference.
“Oh, no; that's a peg above my style. I am not a Vanderbilt, nor yet an Astor.”
“Is the price moderate?” asked Phil anxiously. “I must make my money last as long as I can, for I don't know when I shall get a place.”
“To be sure. You might room with me, only I've got a hall bedroom. Perhaps we might manage it, though.”
“I think I should prefer a room by myself,” said Phil, who reflected that Signor Orlando was a stranger as yet.
“Oh, well, I'll speak to the old lady, and I guess she can accommodate you with a hall bedroom like mine on the third floor.”
“What should I have to pay?”
“A dollar and a quarter a week, and you can get your meals where you please.”