"Thank you, sir!" Bill called after the man, then went into the parlor.

This place was nice. His eyes automatically darted around the room, looking for something he might be able to steal if he warmed up before this man kicked him out.


He placed some wood in the woodstove, then knelt in front of it and tried to steady his shaking hands enough to arrange tinder and kindling into a shape that would actually catch fire. Of course someone with money wouldn't bother to help him start the fire; it was miracle enough that he'd let him in, really.

It took him three tries to get a match lit, and when he dropped it on his awkwardly arranged tinder, the fire sputtered out within a couple seconds. He choked back a sob of frustration.