"You might try that," he says. And shook himself, loose again, and strolled out the door. He walked loose, too.
I thanked him and put the card away, and went down in the elevator. It was the same elevator, it turned out, that the little young man had taken, but of course he didn't notice me. When I got down I asked the man at the door how to get to the address of the factory that was written on the card. He said it was about two miles, and told me with his thumb which way. While I was trying to make out which way he meant, I stood for a minute in the street doorway. And there was the little young man again.
"Do you know how to get to the factory?" he asked.
"Yes. On my two feet," I says back, and started.
"You don't mean to say you're going to walk all that way?" he says, following me a step or two.
"No," I says, "I don't mean to say it, as I know of."
"Look here," he says, "my car is here at the side door. I'm on my way over to the factory now. Can't I give you a lift?"
I thought for a minute. I was awful tired. If I walked all that way and then home, I'd have to spend ten cents for lunch that would be enough for Mis' Bingy and me both at night. The little young man was a friend of Mr. Carney's, that was a friend of Mr. Ember's....
"We'll be there in ten minutes," he says.
"Much obliged," I says, and went with him.