"Hello, Springer!" exclaimed Norris to the tall young man who had
admitted them. "You're locked up as if this was a sub-treasury. This
is a friend of mine. Mr. Dare, Mr. Springer, our worthy secretary."
"Glad to know you, Mr. Dare!" said the other, and he gave Richard's
hand a tight grip, but at the same time cast a sidelong, inquiring
glance at Norris.
"He's a green one," murmured Norris, as he brushed past. "Don't you
think we have it cozy up here?" he continued, turning to Richard.
Richard was not prepared to answer in the affirmative. His introduction
into the place, even though his curiosity has been small, was a
disappointment. The room had been nicely furnished once, but the carpet
and the furniture showed signs of much wear, and the pictures of which
Norris had spoken proved to be several of a remarkably "loud" sort,
but of no real artistic value or excellence.
"Many of the boys here to-night, Springer?" asked Norris.
"Foley, Nichols and two or three others. Will you take a hand in?"
"Maybe; I'll see in a little while."
"My night at the door," growled Springer. "I hate it."
"Never mind; as long as we can't pay a porter some one has got to do
it among us. I'll get my book," added the shipping-clerk, glancing at
Richard.
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