"Blest if I couldn't pass myself off for a young Fifth avenoodle," he said to himself. "I'll go down and see Mrs. Flanagan. I wonder if she'll know me?"
He descended the stairs, and knocked at the door of the good-hearted Irishwoman.
She did not recognize him, having no idea that it was Tom the bootblack.
"Does Mrs. Flanagan live here?" asked Tom, slightly disguising his voice.
"Yes, sir. Is it washing ye want me to do?"
"Is there a boy named Tom lives here?" asked our hero.
"He lives up stairs, just over this."
"Do you know him?"
"Shure I do. I know him as if he was my own bye."
"I don't know about that," said Tom, in his natural voice, raising his hat, which he had worn slouched down over his eyes. "You didn't seem to know him when you saw him."