He ate supper, a real Dago supper; the spaghetti proved to be real Dago spaghetti, smoking hot, with tomato sauce and a rich flavour of meat-juice. And all through the meal Hal smacked his lips and grinned at Little Jerry, who smacked his lips and grinned back. It was all so different from feeding at Reminitsky's pig-trough, that Hal thought he had never had such a good supper in his life before. As for Mr. and Mrs. Jerry, they were so proud of their wonderful kid, who could swear in English as good as a real American, that they were in the seventh heaven.
When the meal was over, Hal leaned back and exclaimed, just as he had at the Rafferties', “Lord, how I wish I could board here!”
He saw his host look at his wife. “All right,” said he. “You come here. I board you. Hey, Rosa?”
“Sure,” said Rosa.
Hal looked at them, astonished. “You're sure they'll let you?” he asked.
“Let me? Who stop me?”
“I don't know. Maybe Reminitsky. You might get into trouble.”
Jerry grinned. “I no fraid,” said he. “Got friends here. Carmino my cousin. You know Carmino?”
“No,” said Hal.
“Pit-boss in Number One. He stand by me. Old Reminitsky go hang! You come here, I give you bunk in that room, give you good grub. What you pay Reminitsky?”