Mooney.
"Over a hundred dollars," said Fosdick.
"It was my whole fortun'," said Dick. "I was goin' to buy a house
next year."
Mrs. Mooney was evidently surprised to learn the extent of Dick's
wealth, and was disposed to regard him with increased respect.
"Was the drawer locked?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Then it couldn't have been Bridget. I don't think she has any
keys."
"She wouldn't know what a bank-book was," said Fosdick. "You didn't
see any of the lodgers go into our room to-day, did you?"
"I shouldn't wonder if it was Jim Travis," said Mrs. Mooney, suddenly.
This James Travis was a bar-tender in a low groggery in Mulberry
Street, and had been for a few weeks an inmate of Mrs. Mooney's
lodging-house. He was a coarse-looking fellow who, from his
appearance, evidently patronized liberally the liquor he dealt out
to others. He occupied a room opposite Dick's, and was often heard
by the two boys reeling upstairs in a state of intoxication,
uttering shocking oaths.
This Travis had made several friendly overtures to Dick and his
room-mate, and had invited them to call round at the bar-room where
he tended, and take something. But this invitation had never been
accepted, partly because the boys were better engaged in the
evening, and partly because neither of them had taken a fancy to Mr.
Travis; which certainly was not strange, for nature had not gifted
him with many charms, either of personal appearance or manners.
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