“I’ll lead you to it.”

They walked up to Broadway, then up by the Astor House, and across the park to the hotel.

“We’ll go in and secure a room the first thing,” he said.

They entered, Greenleaf taking the lead.

“Show us a room with two beds,” said Peter to the clerk.

A servant was summoned, and the room assigned to them was indicated.

“Have you any baggage?” asked the clerk.

“No,” said Greenleaf, carelessly.  “Mine was checked through from Philadelphia.  I shan’t send for it till morning.”

“Then I must ask you to pay in advance.”

“All right.  Fifty cents, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Mason,” said Greenleaf, “have you got a dollar about you?  I’ve got nothing less than a ten.”

Herbert drew out a dollar and paid for himself and his companion.

They were now shown up to a room on the third floor, which proved to be a very comfortable one, looking out on the street.  Herbert was glad to get a chance to wash himself thoroughly after the dusty journey which he had just completed.  This ceremony over, they went down to the restaurant connected with the hotel, and took a hearty meal.  Greenleaf made an effort to have Herbert pay for both, but this time Herbert also had a bill to change.  It was rather a suspicious circumstance, he thought, that Greenleaf, who had no bill smaller than a ten, paid for his meal out of a one-dollar bill.

After supper Greenleaf bought a couple of cigars, and offered Herbert one.

“No, thank you,” said our hero.

“Don’t you smoke?”

“No.”

“Where have you been living all your life?  I couldn’t get along without my cigar.”

“Don’t you think it hurtful to a boy to smoke?”

“I don’t know about that.  I’m a man now, but I’ve smoked ever since I was a boy.  I think it does a fellow good.”

“But it’s expensive.”

“Yes, that’s so.  I expect I’ve smoked a thousand dollars’ worth of cigars in the course of my life.”

“Don’t you wish you had the money instead?”

“Yes; I should rather like the money, but I shouldn’t be half the man I am if I hadn’t smoked.  It’s mostly milksops that don’t smoke.  Nothing personal, you know, Mason.”

“Of course not,” said Herbert, smiling.

“Better have a cigar.”

“No; I guess not.”

“You’ll come to it in time.  I’ll smoke it for you, then.”

After smoking, Greenleaf expressed his intention of going to the theater.  Herbert preferred to go to bed early, feeling rather tired.  He was kept awake at first by the noise of the horse-cars and the bustle of the street outside, as well as by the exciting thoughts that crowded upon him, suggested by his actual arrival in the city, where he hoped to make a place for himself by energy and industry.  But at last he fell asleep.