"No; I won't tell him. I want you to stay here. I'd rather have you than Sam."
"Thank you. I'll try to suit."
Tony was assigned to a room in the attic. There were two beds in this chamber, one being occupied by James. He slept soundly, and was up betimes in the morning. After breakfast, Mr. Bickford, the tin peddler, made ready to start.
"Good-by, Tony," he said, in a friendly manner. "I'm glad you've got a place."
"I wouldn't have got it if I hadn't you to refer to," said Tony.
"The landlord didn't ask how long I'd known you," said Bickford, smiling. "However, I guess I know enough of you to give you a recommend. Good luck to you."
As the peddler drove away, Tony noticed a big, overgrown boy, who was just entering the hotel yard.
"That's Sam," said the hostler. "He don't know he's lost his place."