Beta Book

Happily tired, Mr. Wrenn suggested that they go to
a temperance hotel at his expense, for he had read in Baedeker
that temperance hotels were respectable--also cheap.
"No, no!" frowned Morton. "Tell you what you do, Bill. You go
to a hotel, and I'll beat it down to a lodging-house on Duke
Street.... Juke Street!... Remember how I ran onto Pete on the
street? He told me you could get a cot down there for fourpence."
"Aw, come on to a hotel. Please do! It 'd just hurt me to think
of you sleeping in one of them holes. I wouldn't sleep a bit
if--"
"Say, for the love of Mike, Wrenn, get wise! Get wise, son!
I'm not going to sponge on you, and that's all there is to it."
Bill Wrenn strode into their company for a minute, and quoth the
terrible Bill:
"Well, you don't need to get so sore about it. I don't go
around asking folks can I give 'em a meal ticket all the time,
let me tell you, and when I do--Oh rats! Say, I didn't mean to
get huffy, Morty. But, doggone you, old man, you can't shake me
this easy.


Pages:
90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114