“Why, you see, they’s mostly drunk,” stated a bystander with an air of explaining all.
We tacked across to the doors of the Parker House. There after some search was made we found the proprietor. He, too, seemed very busy, but he spared time to trudge ahead of us up two rickety flights of raw wooden stairs to a loft where he indicated four canvas bunks on which lay as many coarse blue blankets.
Perhaps a hundred similar bunks occupied every available inch in the little loft.
“How long you going to stay?” he asked us.
“Don’t know; a few days.”
“Well, six dollars apiece, please.”
“For how long?”
“For to-night.”
“Hold on!” expostulated Talbot. “We can’t stand that especially for these accommodations. At that price we ought to have something better. Haven’t you anything in the second story?”
The proprietor’s busy air fell from him; and he sat down on the edge of one of the canvas bunks.