“Sir, a long list,” replied Riah, taking out a pocketbook, and selecting from its contents a folded paper, which, being unfolded, became a sheet of foolscap covered with close writing.

“Whew!” whistled Fledgeby, as he took it in his hand. “Queer Street is full of lodgers just at present! These are to be disposed of in parcels; are they?”

“In parcels as set forth,” returned the old man, looking over his master’s shoulder; “or the lump.”

“Half the lump will be wastepaper, one knows beforehand,” said Fledgeby. “Can you get it at wastepaper price? That’s the question.”