He returned to the stranger, and said, cheerfully, "We're almost there."
"Is that boy your cousin?" asked his acquaintance.
"Yes," said Sam.
"He blacks boots for a living."
"Yes, sir."
"Does he do well at it?"
"Pretty well."
"Did you ever black boots?"
"No, sir," answered Sam, telling the truth by way of variety.
"That's the Tribune office," said Sam, a moment later, pointing to the gloomy-looking prison.