what happened in that room?"

"Don't tell me!" he shouted out. "I don't want to hear any nonsense. I
haven't time. I've got to be at the shop at seven and I don't feel very
well. What did happen?" he mumbled in drawing off, just loud enough
for the woman to hear. "Something unpleasant I'm sure." Then he ran
downstairs.

At half past six he found the janitor. He was, to all appearance, in a
state of great excitement and he spoke very fast.

"I won't stay another night in that room," he loudly declared, breaking
in where the family were eating breakfast by lamplight. "I don't want
to make any trouble and I don't want to give my reasons; but that room
don't suit me. I'd rather take the dark one you talked about yesterday.
There's the money. Have my things moved to-day, will ye?"

"But your moving out after one night's stay will give that room a bad
name," stammered the janitor, rising awkwardly. "There'll be talk and I
won't be able to let that room all winter."

"Nonsense! Every man hasn't the nerves I have. You'll let it in a week.
But let or not let, I'm going front into the little dark room. I'll get
the boss to let me off at half past four. So that's settled."

He waited for no reply and got none; but when he appeared promptly at a
quarter to five, he found his few belongings moved into a middle room on
the fourth floor of the front building, which, oddly perhaps, chanced to
be next door to the one he had held under watch the night before.

The first page of his adventure in the Hicks Street tenement had been
turned, and he was ready to start upon another.

XVII. IN WHICH A BOOK PLAYS A LEADING PART

When Mr. Brotherson came in that night, he noticed that the door of
the room adjoining his own stood open. He did not hesitate. Making
immediately for it, he took a glance inside, then spoke up with a
ringing intonation:

"Halloo! coming to live in this hole?"

The occupant a young man, evidently a workman and somewhat sickly if one
could judge from his complexion--turned around from some tinkering he
was engaged in and met the intruder fairly, face to face. If his jaw
fell, it seemed to be from admiration. No other emotion would have so
lighted his eye as he took in the others proportions and commanding
features. No dress--Brotherson was never seen in any other than the
homeliest garb in these days--could make him look common or akin to
his surroundings. Whether seen near or far, his presence always c