Part 11 (1/2)
”You don't mean to say you have met him? Where did you come across him?”
”In front of the Astor House, almost two hours since.”
”Did you speak to him?”
”He spoke to me. You will be glad to hear that he has recovered his own casket of jewels.”
Adin Woods smiled.
”He must think you are easily imposed upon,” he said, ”to believe any such story. Anything more?”
”He said his friends would be very much surprised to hear that he had been suspected of theft.”
”So he wanted to clear himself with you?”
”Yes; he asked where I was staying.”
”I hope you didn't tell him.”
”I only said I was at a boarding house on West Fourteenth Street, but didn't mention the number.”
”He thinks you have the casket with you, and that he may get possession of it. It is well that you stored it at Tiffany's.”
”I think so. Now I have no anxiety about it. Do you think he will find out where we live?”
”Probably, as you gave him a clew. But, Rodney, it is about lunch time, and I confess I have an appet.i.te. Come and lunch with me.”
”But I am afraid, Mr. Woods, I shall not be able to return the compliment.”
”There is no occasion for it. I feel in good humor this morning. I have sold one lot, and have hopes of disposing of another. The one lot pays me a commission of twenty dollars.”
”I wish I could make twenty dollars in a week.”
”Sometimes I only sell one lot in a week. It isn't like a regular business. It is precarious. Still, take the year through and I make a pretty good income. Come in here. We can get a good lunch here,” and he led the way into a modest restaurant, not far from the site of the old post office, which will be remembered by those whose residence in New York dates back twenty years or more.
”Now we will have a nice lunch,” said the agent. ”I hope you can do justice to it.”
”I generally can,” responded Rodney, smiling. ”I am seldom troubled with a poor appet.i.te.”
”Ditto for me. Now what have you been doing this morning?”
”Looking for a place.”
”With what success?”
”Pretty good if I had only been earlier.”
Rodney told the story of his application to the manager of the railroad office.
”You will know better next time. I think you'll succeed. I did. When I came to New York at the age of twenty two I had only fifty dollars. That small sum had to last me twelve weeks. You can judge that I didn't live on the fat of the land during that time. I couldn't often eat at Delmonico's. Even Beefsteak John's would have been too expensive for me.