"Yes, I am," said Sam.
"Then I'll take you to my room at once. We'll go up Centre street."
Sam cheerfully followed his conductor. He felt like a storm-tossed mariner, who has just found port.
"What is your name?" asked his guide.
"Sam Barker."
"Mine is Clarence Brown."
"Is it?" asked Sam.
He could not help thinking the name too fine for a man of such shabby appearance, and yet it would be hard, when names are so cheap, if all the best ones should be bestowed on the wealthy.
"It's a good name, isn't it?" asked the stranger.
"Tip-top."