in the kennel had he not been kindly and vigorously intercepted in his
fall by the ready assistance of Frank Atherton. At the ludicrous
figure which his staggering friend now made the older gentleman burst
into a roar of laughter which might have been heard from Charing Cross
to St. Paul's; but suddenly checking himself he mournfully shook his
head saying, "Oh Bozzy, Bozzy, this is too bad."

Frank, having no other occupation, was ready enough to offer his
assistance towards guiding and propping the intoxicated gentleman; for
it seemed to be a task rather too hard for the sober one to manage by
himself.

"I am sorry to take you out of your way;" said the old gentleman to
Atherton.

"You cannot easily do that," replied Frank, "I have no particular
destination at present. My way lies in one direction as well as in
another."

"Do I understand you rightly?" asked the stranger, "Are you indeed a
houseless, homeless wanderer."

"I cannot justly call myself a homeless wanderer," said Frank, "but my
master has just now closed his doors on me and I have no other home at
present than the streets."

"'Tis bad, 'tis bad," said the gentleman, "you or your master has much
to answer for. But I'll take care you shall not want a shelter for the
present. I will not have upon my conscience the guilt of suffering you
to roam about the streets all night, if I can prevent it."