as long as he pays me well for the job."

They got out at One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street, and struck down
toward the river, Dodger carrying the valise.

"I wonder where we're going?" he asked himself.

At length they reached a wooden house of three stories, standing by
itself, and here the stranger stopped.

He rang the bell, and the door was opened by a hump-backed negro, who
looked curiously at Dodger.

"Is the room ready, Julius?" asked the old man.

"Yes, sir."

"Boy, take the valise upstairs, and I will follow you."

Up two flights of stairs walked Dodger, followed by the old man and
the negro.

The latter opened the door of a back room, and Dodger, obedient to
directions, took the valise inside and deposited it on a chair.

He had hardly done so when the door closed behind him, and he heard
the slipping of a bolt.

"What does all this mean?" Dodger asked himself in amazement.