ive you a flogging," said the blind
man, roughly.

"I am not used to be talked to in that way," said Frank, independently.

"You've always had your own way, I suppose," snarled Mills.

"No, I haven't; but I have been treated kindly."

"You are only a boy, and I won't allow you to talk back to me. Do you
hear?"

"Yes."

"Then take care to remember."

"You've got a sweet disposition," thought Frank. "I won't stay with you
any longer than I am obliged to."

Several days passed without bringing any incidents worth recording.
Frank took a daily walk with the blind man, sometimes in the morning,
sometimes in the afternoon. These walks were very distasteful to him.
The companion of a beggar, he felt as if he himself were begging. He
liked better the time he spent in selling papers, though he reaped no
benefit himself. In fact, his wages were poor enough. Thus far his fare
had consisted of dry bread with an occasional bun. He was a healthy,
vigorous boy, and he felt the need of meat, or some other hearty food,
and ventured to intimate as much to his employer.

"So you want meat, do you?" snarled Mills.

"Yes, sir; I haven't tasted any for a week."

"Perhaps you'd like to take your meals at Delmonico's?" sneered the
blind man.

Frank was so new to the city that this well-known name did not convey
any special idea to him, and he answered "Yes."

"That's what I thought!" exclaimed Mills, angrily. "You want to eat me
out of house and home."

"No, I don't; I only want enough food to keep up my strength."

"Well, you are getting it. I give you all I can afford."

Frank was inclined to doubt this. He estimated that what he ate did not
cost his employer over six or eight cents a day, and he generally earned
for him twenty to thirty cents on the sale of papers, besides helping
him to collect about a dollar daily from those who pitied his blindness.

He mentioned his grievance to his friend, Dick Rafferty.

"I'll tell you what to do," said Dick.

"I wish you would."

"Keep some of the money you make by selling papers, and buy a square
meal at an eatin' house."

"I don't like to do that; it wouldn't be honest."

"Why wouldn't it?"

"I am carrying on the business for Mr. Mills. He supplies the capital."

"Then you'd better carry it on for yourself."

"I wish I could."

"Why don't you?"

"I haven't any money."

"Has he paid you any wages?"

"No."

"Then make him."

Frank thought this a good suggest