Fortunately for the landlord's speculation, bad as it ultimately proved,
the two collegians who had engaged his best front bedroom had not yet
arrived to take possession of it. Therefore the business of turning it
over to a more profitable party was the more immediately practicable.
All the landlord had to do was to see that a fire was kindled in the
fireplace, and the table was set for supper.
Then he returned to the parlor, to conduct, in person, such a wealthy
and munificent patron to his apartment.
"Ah! this is cosy!" said the stranger, sinking into an arm-chair, and
spreading his hands over the blazing fire, whose beams were caught and
reflected by his red hair, until it shone like a rival conflagration.
"Glad you like your quarters, sir," said the landlord, putting his hand
upon the pocket that contained the purse with the two fifty-dollar bills
to see that they were safe.
"Ah! here comes the supper. Now, landlord, I want you to join me, that
we may have that little chat I spoke of," said the stranger, wheeling
his arm-chair around to the table, while the waiter arranged the dishes,
and stared at the flaming red head of the guest.
"What name might I have the honor of entering on my books, sir, if you
please?" inquired the host, as he obligingly took his seat opposite his
guest.
"What name might you have the honor of entering on your books?" repeated
the stranger, helping himself to a huge slice of ham. "Well, you might
have the honor of entering quite a variety of names on your books, as I
dare say you do; but for the sake of brevity, which is the soul of wit,
you may put down Smith--John Smith of New York city. Common name, eh,
landlord, and from a big city? Can't help that--fault of my forefathers
and godfathers. Whenever I have to sign a check the bankers make me
write myself down as 'John Smith of John.' Can't do any better than that
if it were to avert a financial crisis. All my ancestors have been John
Smiths, from the days of William Rufus, when his chief armorer John,
surnamed the 'Smiter,' for his lusty blows, founded the family. So you
may set me down as 'John Smith of John, New York city.' And now send the
waiter away, and fall to and tell me some of your neighborhood news."
Nothing but the consciousness of the possession of those two big bills
would have given the landlord courage to have left his business below
stairs to take care of itself even for the half hour to which he
mentally resolved to limit his interview with the stranger. However, he
dismissed the waiter with some extra charges, and then placed himself at
the service of his guest, and even took the initiative of the
tête-à-tête by asking: "You are quite a stranger in this neighborhood, sir?"