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station to town,” replied the Jehu without blushing, although it was
evident that they were at that moment standing almost directly in the center of
the city.
    Without another word, Lem turned on his heel and walked away from the cab driver.
As he made his way through the crowded streets, he congratulated himself on how
he had handled his first encounter. By keeping his wits about him, he had saved
over a tenth of his capital.
    Lem saw a
peanut stand, and as a matter of policy purchased a bag of the toothsome earth
nuts.
    “I’m from the country,” he said to
the honest-appearing merchant. “Can you direct me to a cheap hotel?”
    “Yes,” said the sidewalk vendor,
smiling at the boy’s candor. “I know of one where they charge only a dollar a
day.”
    “Is that cheap?” asked our hero in
surprise. “What then do they charge at the Ritz?”
    “I have never stayed there, but I
understand that it is as much as three dollars a day.”
    “Phew!” whistled Lem .
“Think of that now. Twenty-one dollars a week. But I
suppose they do you awfully well.”
    “Yes, I hear they set a very good
table
    “Will you be so kind as to direct me
to the cheap one of which you first spoke?”
    “Certainly.”
    It was the Commercial House to which
the peanut dealer advised Lem to go. This hostelry
was located in a downtown street very near the Bowery and was not a stylish inn
by any manner of means. However, it was held in good repute by many merchants
in a small way of business. Our hero was well satisfied with the establishment
when he found it. He had never before seen a fine hotel, and this structure
being five stories above the offices seemed to him rather imposing than
otherwise.
    After being taken to his room, Lem went downstairs and found that dinner was ready, it
being just noon. He ate with a country boy’s appetite. It was not a luxurious
meal, but compared with the table that Warden Purdy set it was a feast for the
gods.
    When he had finished eating, Lem asked the hotel clerk how to get to Asa Goldstein’s store on Fifth Avenue. He was told to walk to Washington Square, then take the bus uptown.
    After an exciting ride along the
beautiful thoroughfare, Lem descended from the bus
before a store, across the front of which was a sign reading
    ASA GOLDSTEIN, LTD. Colonial
Exteriors and Interiors
    and in the
window of which his old home actually stood.
    At first the poor boy could not
believe his eyes, but, yes, there it was exactly as in Vermont. One of the
things that struck him was the seediness of the old house. When he and his
mother had lived in it, they had kept it in a much better state of repair.
    Our hero stood gazing at the exhibit
for so long that he attracted the attention of one of the clerks. This suave
individual came out to the street and addressed Lem .
    “You admire the architecture of New
England?” he said, feeling our hero out.
    “No; it’s that particular house that
interests me, sir,” replied Lem truthfully. “I used
to live in it. In fact I was born in that very house.”
    “My, this is interesting,” said the
clerk politely. “Perhaps you would like to enter the shop and inspect it at
firsthand.”
    “Thank you,” replied Lem gratefully. “It would give me a great deal of pleasure
so to do.”
    Our hero followed after the affable
clerk and was permitted to examine his old home at close range. To tell the
truth, he saw it through a veil of tears, for he could think of nothing but his
poor mother who had disappeared.
    “I wonder if you would be so kind as
to furnish me with a little information?” asked the clerk, pointing to a
patched old chest of drawers. “Where would your mother have
put such a piece of furniture had she owned it?”
    Lem’s first thought on inspecting the article in question was to say that she would
have kept it in the woodshed, but he thought better of this when he saw how
highly the clerk valued it. After a little thought, he pointed to a space next
to the