“Here you be,” said the man of the house, with a grin. “You chose a good one, that’s sure.”
“The first one I came to that wasn’t already taken,” replied the stranger. “How’s the fire? Hope you didn’t carry out your murderous intentions.”
“Didn’t carry out a danged thing. The roof’s fell in. And say, if you want to see a man real mad you’d ought to see Dave Hinch. I’d of paid five dollars for the show if it wasn’t free. But about this room, mister. To-night don’t count, for I ain’t such a hell of a business man as all that—but if you stop in it it’ll set you back one dollar an’ fifty cents a day, or nine dollars by the week.”
“Pretty good rent for a room in the country, isn’t it?”
“Rent? Well, I throw in three or four meals a day.”
“In that case, consider me as a fixture for weeks and weeks.”
“That suits me, mister—but what’s your name?”
“Vane,” answered the stranger.
“Vane,” returned the other. “Then you’re not from hereabouts, mister?”
“I’m from New York—and other places.”