curiosity, for he had never been in such a motley gathering before. There were perhaps one hundred and fifty boys recruited from the street, to about all of whom except himself the term street Arab might be applied.
The majority of them had the shrewd and good humored Celtic face. Many of them were fun loving and even mischievous, but scarcely any were really bad.
Naturally Rodney, with his good clothes, attracted attention. The boys felt that he was not one of them, and they had a suspicion that he felt above them.
“Get on to de dude!” remarked one boy, who was loosely attired in a ragged shirt and tattered trousers.
“He means me, Mike,” said Rodney with a smile.
“I say, Patsy Glenn, what do you mean by callin’ me friend Rodney a dude?” demanded Mike angrily.
“Coz he’s got a dandy suit on.”
“What if he has? Wouldn’t you wear one like it if you could!”
“You bet!”
“Then just let him alone! He’s just got back from de inauguration.”
“Where’d you pick him up, Mike?”
“Never mind! He’s one of us. How much money have you got in your pocket Rodney?”
“Thirty two cents.”
“He can’t put on no frills wid dat money.”
“That’s so. I take it all back,” and Patsy offered a begrimed hand to Rodney, which the latter shook heartily with a pleasant smile.
That turned the tide in favor of Rodney, the boys gathered around him and he told his story in a few words.
“I used to be rich, boys,” he said, “but my guardian spent all my money, and now I am as poor as any of you.”
“You’d ought to have had me for your guardian, Rodney,” observed Mike.
“I wish you had. You wouldn’t have lost my money for me.”
“True for you! I say so, boys, if we can find Rodney’s guardian, what’ll we do to him?”
“Give him de grand bounce,” suggested Patsy.
“Drop him out of a high winder,” said another.
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t care to tell you, boys. He’s written me a letter, saying he will try to pay me back some day. I think he will. He isn’t a bad man, but he has been unlucky.”
Mike, at the request of Mr. O’Connor, showed Rodney a locker in which he could store such articles of clothing as he had with him. After that he felt more at home, and as if he were staying at a hotel though an humble one.
At eight o’clock some of the boys had already gone to bed, but Mike and Rodney were among those who remained up. Rodney noticed with what kindness yet fairness the superintendent managed his unruly flock. Unruly they might have been with a different man, but he had no trouble in keeping them within bounds.
It was at this time that two strangers were announced, one a New York merchant named Goodnow, the other a tall, slender man with sandy whiskers of the mutton chop pattern.
“Good evening, Mr. Goodnow,” said the superintendent, who recognized the merchant as a friend of the society.
“Good evening, Mr. O’Connor. I have brought my friend and correspondent Mr. Mulgrave, of London, to see some of your young Arabs.”
“I shall be glad to give him all the opportunity he desires.”
The Englishman looked curiously at the faces of the boys who in turn were examining him with equal interest.
“They are not unlike our boys of a similar grade, but seem sharper and more intelligent,” he said. “But surely,” pointing to Rodney, “that boy is not one of the—Arabs. Why, he looks like a young gentleman.”
“He is a new comer. He only appeared tonight.”
“He must have a history. May I speak with him?”
“By all means. Rodney, this gentleman would like to talk with you.”
Rodney came forward with the ease of a boy who was accustomed to good society, and said: “I shall be very happy to speak with him.”
CHAPTER VIII
RODNEY FINDS A PLACE
“Surely,” said the Englishman, “you were not brought up in the street?”
“Oh, no,” answered Rodney, “I was more fortunate.”
“Then how does it happen that I find you here—among the needy boys of the city?”
“Because I am needy, too.”
“But you were not always poor?”
“No; I inherited a moderate fortune from my father. It was only within a short time that I learned from my guardian that it was lost. I left the boarding school where I was being educated, and came to the city to try to make a living.”
“But surely your guardian would try to provide for you?”
“He is no longer in the city.”
“Who was he?” asked Otis Goodnow.
“Mr. Benjamin Fielding.”
“Is it possible? Why, I lost three thousand dollars by him. He has treated you shamefully.”
“It was not intentional, I am sure,” said Rodney. “He was probably drawn into using my money by the hope of retrieving himself. He wrote me that he hoped at some time to make restitution.”
“You speak of him generously, my lad,” said Mr. Mulgrave. “Yet he has brought you to absolute poverty.”
“Yes, sir, and I won’t pretend that it is not a hard trial to me, but if I can get a chance to earn my own living, I will not complain.”
“Goodnow, a word with you,” said the Englishman, and he drew his friend aside. “Can’t you make room for this boy in your establishment?”
Otis Goodnow hesitated. “At present there is no vacancy,” he said.
“Make room for him, and draw upon me for his wages for the first six months.”
“I will do so, but before the end of that time I am sure he will justify my paying him out of my own pocket.”
There was a little further conference, and then the two gentlemen came up to where Rodney was standing with Mr. O’Connor.
“My boy,” said Mr. Mulgrave, “my friend here will give you a place at five dollars a week. Will that satisfy you?”
Rodney’s face flushed with pleasure.
“It
