imself.

"Pretty well," said Fosdick. "I suppose you're all right."

"Oh, yes, I'm right side up with care. I've been havin' a bully
supper. What are you goin' to have?"

"Some bread and butter."

"Why don't you get a cup o' coffee?"

"Why," said Fosdick, reluctantly, "I haven't got money enough
to-night."

"Never mind," said Dick; "I'm in luck to-day, I'll stand treat."

"That's kind in you," said Fosdick, gratefully.

"Oh, never mind that," said Dick.

Accordingly he ordered a cup of coffee, and a plate of beefsteak,
and was gratified to see that his young companion partook of both
with evident relish. When the repast was over, the boys went out
into the street together, Dick pausing at the desk to settle for
both suppers.

"Where are you going to sleep to-night, Fosdick?" asked Dick, as
they stood on the sidewalk.

"I don't know," said Fosdick, a little sadly. "In some doorway, I
expect. But I'm afraid the police will find me out, and make me
move on."

"I'll tell you what," said Dick, "you must go home with me. I guess
my bed will hold two."

"Have you got a room?" asked the other, in surprise.

"Yes," said Dick, rather proudly, and with a little excusable
exultation. "I've got a room over in Mott Street; there I can
receive my friends. That'll be better than sleepin' in a
door-way,--won't it?"

"Yes, indeed it will," said Fosdick. "How lucky I was to come across
you! It comes hard to me living as I do. When my father was alive I
had every comfort."

"That's more'n I ever had," said Dick. "But I'm goin' to try to live
comfortable now. Is your father dead?"

"Yes," said Fosdick, sadly. "He was a printer; but he was drowned
one dark night from a Fulton ferry-boat, and, as I had no relations
in the city, and no money, I was obliged to go to work as quick as
I could. But I don't get on very well."

"Didn't you have no brothers nor sisters?" asked Dick.

"No," said Fosdick; "father and I used to live alone. He was always
so much company to me that I feel very lonesome without him. There's
a man out West somewhere that owes him two thousand dollars. He used
to live in the city, and father lent him all his money to help him
go into business; but he failed, or pretended to, and went off. If
father hadn't lost that money he would have left me well off; but no
money would have made up his loss to me."

"What's the man's name that went off with your father's money?"

"His name is Hiram Bates."