nds, and walked for a short distance, till they reached
a plain building, which, from the sign, Tom discovered to be the hotel
which had been mentioned.

"Shall we room together? It will cost less," said Milton Graham
carelessly.

"If you please," said Tom.

He was lonely and thought he would like company. Besides, it would be
cheaper, and that was a weighty consideration.

CHAPTER VII.

THE PITTSBURG HOUSE.

Tom and his companion entered the hotel. At the left was the clerk's
desk. Milton Graham naturally took the lead. He took a pen from the
clerk, and entered his name with a flourish. Then he handed the pen to
Tom, who followed his example, omitting the flourish, however.

"This young gentleman will room with me," said Graham.

"All right, sir," said the clerk. "Will you go up to your room now?"

"Yes."

The porter was summoned, and handed the key of No. 16. He took the two
carpetbags, and led the way up-stairs, for the Pittsburg House had no
elevator. Even in the best hotels at that time this modern convenience
was not to be found.

The door of No. 16 was opened, revealing a plain room, about twelve feet
square, provided, as Tom was glad to see, with two narrow beds.

"Have you got a quarter, Tom?" asked Graham.

Tom drew one from his pocket.

Graham took it and handed it to the porter, who expressed his thanks.

"It's always customary to fee the porter," he said carelessly, in answer
to Tom's look of surprise.

"What for?"

"For bringing up the baggage."

"Twenty-five cents for bringing up two small carpetbags! That's pretty
high. I'd have brought them up myself, if I had known," said Tom,
dissatisfied, for he felt that this fee was hardly in accordance with
his resolutions of economy.

"Oh, he expects it. It's his regular perquisite. When you've traveled
more you'll understand."

"How much are we to pay for our accommodations?" asked Tom anxiously.

"About two dollars apiece, I reckon."

"That's more than I can afford," said Tom, alarmed.

"Perhaps it is less, as we room together."

"I hope so, for I can't afford to be extravagant."

"Do you call two dollars a day extravagant?" asked Graham, smiling.

"It is for me. My father is poor."

"Oh, it'll be all right. I'll fix it with the clerk. If you are ready,
suppose we go down and have some supper."

To this Tom had no objection. He washed his hands and face, and brushed
his hair; then he declared himself ready.

Tom wa