pay my fare up? I'll send it back
to you right away. I will,--honest!"

The man pushed both his hands into the pockets of his pantaloons, and
stood for a minute staring at the boy, in feigned astonishment.

"Why, my little innocent!" he exclaimed, "what do ye take me for;
a reg'lar home for the friendless? No, I ain't in the charitable
business jist now. By the way, did ye know that the law don't allow
hotel-keepers to let boys stay in the bar-room? Fust thing I know
they'll be a constable a-swoopin' down on me here with a warrant.
Don't ye think ye'd better excuse yourself? That's the door over
yonder, young feller."

Ralph turned, without a word, went to the door, opened it, and stepped
into the street. It was very dark outside, and a cold wind was blowing
up. He stood, for a few minutes, on the corner, shivering, and
wondering which way to go. He felt very wretched indeed; not so much
because he was penniless and lost, as because he had been deceived,
abused, and mocked. He saw through the whole scheme now, and wondered
how he had fallen so easily into it.

On a distant corner there was a street-lamp, burning dimly, and,
without much thought of where he was going, the boy started toward it.

There were other drinking-saloons along the street, and he could hear
loud talking and quarrelling in them as he passed by. A man came
out from one of them and hailed him gruffly. It frightened him, and
he started to run. The man followed him for a little way, shouting
savagely, and then turned back; but Ralph ran on. He stumbled,
finally, on the uneven pavement, and fell headlong, bruising his side
and hurting his wrist. His cap had rolled off, and it took him a
long time to find it. Then he crossed the street to avoid a party of
drunken revellers, and limped along until he came to the lamp that he
had seen from the distance. Down another street there were a number of
lights, and it looked more inviting; so he turned in that way. After
he had gone two or three blocks in this direction, avoiding carefully
the few persons whom he met, he turned again. The streets were
growing lighter and wider now, and there were more people on them,
and that was something to be thankful for. Finally he reached a busy,
well-lighted thoroughfare, and turned into it, with a sigh of relief.
He had not walked very far along it before he saw, over to the right,
surrounded by lights, a long, low building, in the middle of an open
square. It occurr