"Do you ever get sick?"
"Not that way," answered Leonard.
"Smart boy! Better off!"
They reached the hotel, and Leonard engaged
a room for his companion.
"Has he got money?" asked the landlord, in
a low voice.
"Yes," answered Leonard, "he has nearly
a hundred dollars. I counted it myself."
"That's all right, then," said the landlord.
"Here, James, show the gentleman up to No. 15."
"Come, too," said the stranger to Leonard.
The latter followed the more readily because
he had not yet been paid his dollar.
The door of No. 15 was opened, and the two entered.
"I will stay with the gentleman a short time,"
said Leonard to the boy. "If we want anything we will ring."
"All right, sir."
"What's your name?" asked the inebriate,
as he sank into a large armchair near the window.
"Leonard Craig."
"Never heard the name before."
"What's your name, sir?"
"What yon want to know for?" asked the other, cunningly.
"The landlord will want to put it on his book."
"My name? Phil Stark."
"Philip Stark?"
"Yes; who told you?"
It will be seen that Mr. Stark was not yet
quite himself.
"You told me yourself."
"So I did--'scuse me."
"Certainly, sir. By the way, you told me
you would pay me a dollar for bringing you
to the hotel."
"So I did. Take it," and Philip Stark passed
the wallet to Leonard.
Leonard felt tempted to take a two-dollar bill
instead of a one, as Mr. Stark would hardly notice
the mistake. Still, he might ask to look at the bill,
and that would be awkward.
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