“The Bowery?” repeated the gentleman, severely, and Brandon decided that this was no other than Mr. Adoniram Pepper himself.
“Yes, sir; Bowery Theater, you know,” responded the clerk glibly, with an imploring side glance at Brandon. “’Twas in the play, ‘The Buccaneer’s Bride,’ you know.”
“No, I don’t know,” replied Mr. Pepper, in disgust. “So this is your friend, is it?” and he turned his gaze upon Brandon genially.
“Our friendship is of rather short duration,” said Don, smiling.
“So I presume,” returned Mr. Pepper. “Did you wish to see me?”
“Just a moment, sir.”
“I’ll give you two moments if you like.” Then he turned again to the clerk and shook one fat finger at him. “One of these days I’ll discharge you, Weeks,” he said sternly.
“I expect so,” groaned the clerk. “And then what’ll I do?”
Mr. Pepper looked at him a moment silently.
“Then you’ll go and lie somewhere else, I suppose. You will lie, Alfred Weeks, and I suppose I might as well keep you here and let you lie to me, as to turn you loose upon your fellow men. Well, well! Now, young man;” he turned with a sigh from the clerk and again looked at Brandon.