My name's Fowler." And he nodded and went on.

Up in their room, when they had set the arm-chair down and placed it to their liking, Steve said: "Think of that long-haired idiot getting two dollars out of us for this thing.

I've a good mind to go back and tell him what I think of him." "What's the difference ?" asked Tom.

"It's a perfectly good chair, and if we hadn't met that Fowler chap we'd never known we'd been stung.

It's worth two dollars, anyway, no matter what Durkin paid for it." "I suppose it is," granted Steve.