ound. "Exactly!" he exclaimed. "What'll he read? What
have you got in this flat _for_ him to read? Where's your books? or
papers? or magazines? You haven't a scrap of printed matter, as far as I
can see."

"Give us that paper out of your overcoat," suggested Big Tom, ignoring
what the other had said. "Let the kid read from it."

As Johnnie took the paper, he was almost as put out at the man as was
Barber. "I've read ever since I was a baby," he declared. "Aunt Sophie,
she used to give me lessons." Then he read, easily, smoothly, pausing at
commas, stopping at periods, pronouncing even the biggest words
correctly.

"All right," interrupted Maloney, after a few paragraphs. "That'll do.
You read first rate--first rate."

"And I know dec'mals," boasted Johnnie; "and fractions. And I can spell
ev'ry word that was in Cis's spellin' book." Yes, and he knew much more
that he dared not confess in the hearing of Barber. He longed to
discourse about his five books, and all the wonderful people in them,
and to say something about the "thinks" he could do.

"There y' are!" exclaimed the longshoreman, triumphant. "There y' are!
D' y' call that ignorant? for a ten-year-old boy?"

Maloney looked across at Johnnie and smiled. "He's a _mighty_ smart
lad!" he admitted warmly.

"Knows twice as much as most boys of his age," went on Barber. (He had
come to this conclusion, however, in the past five minutes.) "And all he
knows is good. He behaves himself pretty fair, too, and I don't have
much trouble with him t' speak of. So he's welcome t' stay on far's
_he's_ concerned. But"--his voice hardened, his nose darted sidewise
menacingly--"if _you_ stick your finger in this pie, and drag me up in
front of a Court, I'm goin' t' tell y' what'll come of it, and I mean
just what I say: I'll set the kid outside that door,"--indicating the
one leading to the hall, "and the city can board and bed him. Jus' put
_that_ in your pipe and smoke it!"

Evidently Mr. Maloney did not smoke, for though Johnnie watched the
visitor closely, the latter drew out no pipe. "Wouldn't know where I
could send him," he confessed, but as if to himself rather than to Big
Tom; "not just now, anyhow. But"--suddenly brightening--"what about
night school?"

"Have him chasin' out o' _nights_?" cried Barber, scandalized. "Comin'
in all hours off the _street_? I guess _not_! So if you and your Court
want this kid t' go t' night school, out he gits from _here_. And that'