old and the night, until the watchman
should arrive. He did not like the long-nosed man.

"If you'll help, I'll take him home," volunteered Charley. "'Tisn't
far."

"How far?" demanded the long-nosed man.

"Just a block and a half."

"What'll you do with him there?"

"Get him warm. My mother and father'll tend to him. They won't mind."

"Humph!" grunted the long-nosed man. "Well, let's see. But I don't
intend to break my back for some no-'count trash such as this is.
Come," he ordered, to the figure. "Get out o' here."

He grasped the figure by the arms and pulled him forward. Charley
tried to get behind and boost. The tramp (if that was his kind)
mumbled and actually resisted--hanging back and fighting feebly. His
arms were wrenched from their position across his chest, and his coat
corners fell back, with a thud, against the sides of the stairway.

"This fellow must be carrying a brick in each pocket," grumbled the
long-nosed man. And halting his operations, despite the other man's
resistance he roughly felt of the coat corners. But when he would have
thrust in his hand, to investigate further, the other clutched the
pockets so tightly and moaned "No! No!" so imploringly, that much to
Charley's relief the long-nosed man quit.

Supporting their charge between them, and wading through the snow, they
proceeded up the street. The "tramp" half shambled, half slid;
darkness had gathered, stars were peeping out in the blue-black sky,
the way seemed hard and lonesome, and Charley was glad indeed that they
were bound to a place of warmth and shelter: home.

"It's right in the middle of this next block," panted Charley to the
long-nosed man. "Where that horse-step is, under the big old oak."

The gate was ajar, and they turned through, dragging their awkwardly
shambling burden. As they gained the front porch the front door was
flung wide, and Mrs. Adams stood there, peering out, to find what was
the meaning of this scuffling and grunting. Charley was glad to see
her, framed in the lamp-light.

"Why, Charley!" she exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

"Please, mother, let us in," answered Charley. "We've got a man who
was freezing in a stairway. Where'll we put him?"

"Gracious goodness! Take him right through and put him on the sofa.
Oh, George!" and she called to Mr. Adams. "Is he badly frozen,
Charley?" she asked, as Charley, tugging away, passed her.

"I don't think so, ma'am," replied the