"That's just what I _do_ grow," he said, with a smile of relief, bringing his long pointed canines into view. "Horticulture.... Nothing like it." "I s'pose not," said his landlady, starting out of his room. "I'll come down tomorrow and kind of straighten things up a little for you, while you're at work. The place certainly needs it." "_No!_" he said, adding hastily, "I work _nights_. I usually sleep during the day." "Oh, then I wouldn't want to disturb your sleep," said Mrs. Tibbets, at the foot of the stairs. "I'll wait until you go to work, and _then_ I'll--" "Please!" Vandor approached her, his hands spread wide in supplication. "I like everything _just_ as it is!" "Well, it's your room ..." she sighed, starting upstairs. "If there's anything I can do--" "There _is_ something," said Vandor. "Will you please replace the padlock on the door in your kitchen? I'll be using the cellar door, if you don't mind, as a sort of private entrance...." Mrs. Tibbets hesitated, then thought of the five hundred dollar advance, and smiled. "Certainly. Do as you like, Mister Thobal. Goodnight." "Goodnight," said Vandor. "Oh," she said, at the top of the stairs, "did I tell you that you have kitchen privileges? Perhaps I should leave the padlock off the door just in case...." "I never _eat_--at the place I live," he said. "I usually dine _out_. Thank you just the same." "Very well," she said a little tartly, and exited to the kitchen and re-padlocked the door. She was just snapping the padlock shut when Mrs. Leonetti entered the kitchen. "Something is the matter, Meesus Teebuts?" asked her roomer, setting a bag of groceries on the table. "Oh, just a new roomer," smiled Mrs. Tibbets. "I'm worried about him. He looks so sickly. I wonder if I should have rented him that room. Liable to catch his death of pneumonia." "Pah. Always you worry too much," said Mrs. Leonetti. "If it's not the one thing, it's the other." "But the cellar ..." said Mrs. Tibbets, with a little shiver. "It's so _damp_." "He's-a live in the _cellar_?" "He--He seemed to _prefer_ it." Mrs. Leonetti shrugged, and began putting away her purchases in the refrigerator. "Well, if he likes, he likes. I'm-a have an uncle once, he likes to live in the attic and fly kites from-a the window." "It takes all kinds, I guess," said Mrs. Tibbets. "Sure it does," said Mrs. Leonetti, dismissing the subject. "Say, I'm-a gonna make a big pot spaghett'. Maybe you can-a bring him a plate. Warm him up good." "That's a wonderful idea!" said Mrs. Tibbets. "But--" her face fell. "He'll probably be going to work. He works nights." Mrs. Leonetti shrugged. "Is okay. I cook fast. If he's-a there when you go down, you give him. If he's-a _no_ there, you eat yourself. Okay?" "A fine idea," Mrs. Tibbets smiled. * * * * *