That’s a lie, every word of it!” said the old man to himself, after the tramp went out. “You must try to fix up a more probable story next time, Mr. Rudolph. He’s been up to some mischief, probably. However, it’s none of my business. I’ve made seven dollars out of him, and that pays me well—yes, it pays me well.”
When Rudolph left the costumer’s, it occurred to him that the tramp’s dress which he had resumed had better be changed, partly because he thought it probable that a journey lay before him. He sought out a large readymade clothing establishment on Broadway, and with the money which had been returned to him obtained a respectable-looking suit, which quite improved his appearance. He regarded his reflection in a long mirror with considerable
satisfaction. He felt that he would now be taken for a respectable citizen, and that in discarding his old dress he had removed all vestiges of the tramp. In this, however, he was not wholly right. His face and general expression he could not change. A careful observer could read in them something of the life he had led. Still, he was changed for the better, and it pleased him.
Now,” he reflected, “I had better go and see Mrs. Harvey Middleton. I have done the work, and I shall claim the reward.”
He hurried to the St. Regis, and, experienced now in the ways of obtaining access to a guest, he wrote his name on a card and sent it up.
The lady will see you,” was the answer brought back by the servant.
Of course she will,” thought Rudolph. “She’ll want to know whether it’s all settled, and she has no further cause for fear.”
Mrs. Middleton looked up as he entered.
Sit down, Mr. Rugg,” she said, politely.
Her manner was cool and composed; but when the servant had left the room, she rose from her chair, and in a tone which showed the anxiety which she had till then repressed, she asked, abruptly: “Well, Mr. Rugg, have you any news for me?”