At his door-step he shoved a ten dollar bill into my hand. I demurred,
but accepted it.
"I'd hand you more," he apologised, "but the Old Man never lets me have
any more than just so much at a time ... says I waste it anyhow ... but
I manage to do a lot of charging," he chuckled.
"Have you a place to stay to-night?"
"Yes ... I have an uncle who lives uptown."
* * * * *
When I showed up at my uncle's, that night, I showed him my new rig-out,
and explained to him how I came into possession of it. But he did not
accept my explanation. Instead, he shook his head in mournful
dubiousness ... indicating that he doubted my story, and insinuating
that I had not come by my suit honestly; as well as by the new dress
suitcase Saunders had presented me with, and the shirts and
underclothing.
"God knows where you'll end up, Johnny."
After supper Uncle Jim grew restive again, and he came out frankly with
the declaration that he did not want me to stay overnight in the house,
but to pack on out to Haberford to my father ... or, since I must stay
in town to see my editor (again that faint, dubious smile), I might stay
the night at a Mills Hotel ... since my rich friend had given me money,
too ... besides my aunt was not so very strong and I put a strain on
her.
* * * * *
At the Mills Hotel I was perched in a cell-like corner room, high up.
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