mpany, and was too generous to others in the matter of
treating. There was always a chorus of welcome for Paddy when he
entered the bar.

But to-night he was at home, busily engaged in putting a clumsy patch
on his blue "slop" jacket, and he answered Dick's timid knock with a
boisterous welcome.

"And have ye railly left the wretches entirely and going off to
Ironboro' to seek your fortin? Shure, and its could weather for the
job. And of course ye want Pat. But ye can't have him to-night. Come
and have a bite and a sup and share me cot, and ye can be off in the
mornin' before anybody's astir, if ye like. Down then, me beauty;
shure and ye needn't' be so glad at the prospect of leaving Paddy!"

For Pat was wagging his short tail and barking and jumping in a storm
of delight, while Dick hugged him with the blissful thought that now he
would have him for always.

"You're so good to me," he cried gratefully, "but I'm afraid they'll
find me if I wait till morning."

"Not they. Let me look at your boots."

Dick held up a shabby foot, and Paddy sniffed in disdain. Two of the
Fowley's had worn the boots in turn, and they were now falling apart
from stress of wear and weather.

"They're no good for the road, me boy. We'll see." And soon a supper
of herrings and bread and butter and tea smoked invitingly on the
table, and when this had been disposed of Paddy went out, locking the
door.

In a surprisingly short time he came back with a stout pair of boots
and some warm stockings, and a half-worn cloth overcoat and cap.
"Shure, and ye won't mind their coming from the second-hand shop with
the three yallow balls put up for ornyment. Me uncle lives there and
he's very obligin'."

Dick flushed with a mixture of gratitude and shrinking. All his
experiences at the Fowley's had not made him _like_ to wear other
people's clothes. But the boots were such a good fit. And the jacket
would keep him so warm and be such a grand bed quilt if he and Pat had
to sleep out.

But how could he take so much from Paddy? The Irishman's quick eyes
saw and understood, and he said easily, "You can pay me back when
you're Lord Mayor of Ironboro', with a gold chain round your neck and
Pat with a leather collar and a brass plate to tell his name and
nation."

"I'll pay long before that, if I live," cried Dick earnestly. "I don't
mean to beg my way, either, if I can only get work going along."

"That's right, lad, work your pass