“Nor do I,” said Fairfax.  “I am a merchant of Portland, Maine.  I have come to the city to buy my winter stock of goods.  As I only come twice a year, I generally try to enjoy myself a little while I am here.  Do you stay in the city overnight?”

“Yes,” said Andy.

“So do I. Here is the Museum.”

They had reached the Museum, which, as some of my readers are aware, is situated in Tremont Street.

“We go up these stairs,” said Fairfax.  “If you don’t object, we will take seats together.”

“I shall be glad to have company,” said Andy, politely.

Reserved seats adjoining were furnished, and the adventurer and his intended victim entered the Museum.

CHAPTER XXVI SPINNING THE WEB

There was a short interval before the play commenced.  This Andy improved by examining the large stock of curiosities which have been gathered from all parts of the world for the gratification of visitors.  Fairfax kept at his side, and spoke freely of all they saw.  There was something about him which seemed to Andy strangely familiar.  Was it in his features, or in his voice?  He could not tell.  The red whig and whiskers misled him.  Andy finally set it down as a mere chance resemblance to someone whom he had met formerly, and dismissed it from his mind.

At length the increasing crowds pouring into the lecture-room reminded them that the play was about to begin.

“Shall we go in and take our seats?” said Fairfax.

Andy assented, and they were speedily in their seats.

I do not propose to speak of the play.  It was a novelty to Andy to see a dramatic representation, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.  Fairfax was more accustomed to such things, but pretended to be equally interested, feeling that in this way he could ingratiate himself better into Andy’s confidence.

At last it was over, and they went out of the building.

“How did you like it?” asked Fairfax.

“Tiptop,” said Andy, promptly.  “Don’t you think so?”

“Capital,” answered Fairfax, with simulated delight.  “I am glad I had company.  I don’t enjoy anything half as well alone.  By the way, where do you pass the night?”

“At some hotel—­I don’t know which.”

“Suppose you go to the Adams House.  I’ve got to stop overnight somewhere, and it might be pleasanter going in company.”

“Where is the Adams House?”

“On Washington Street, not very far off—­ten or fifteen minutes’ walk.”

“If it’s a good place, I’m willing.”

“It is an excellent hotel, and moderate in price.  We might go up there now, and engage a room, and then spend the evening where we like.”

“Very well,” said Andy.

They soon reached the Adams House—­a neat, unpretending hotel—­and entered.  They walked up to the desk, and Fairfax spoke to the clerk.