"up over the 'Sun' office. It's a good place. I don't know what us
boys would do without it. They give you supper for six cents, and
a bed for five cents more."

"I suppose some boys don't even have the five cents to pay,--do
they?"

"They'll trust the boys," said Dick. "But I don't like to get
trusted. I'd be ashamed to get trusted for five cents, or ten
either. One night I was comin' down Chatham Street, with fifty
cents in my pocket. I was goin' to get a good oyster-stew, and then
go to the lodgin' house; but somehow it slipped through a hole in
my trowses-pocket, and I hadn't a cent left. If it had been summer
I shouldn't have cared, but it's rather tough stayin' out winter
nights."

Frank, who had always possessed a good home of his own, found
it hard to realize that the boy who was walking at his side had
actually walked the streets in the cold without a home, or money
to procure the common comfort of a bed.

"What did you do?" he asked, his voice full of sympathy.

"I went to the 'Times' office. I knowed one of the pressmen, and he
let me set down in a corner, where I was warm, and I soon got fast
asleep."

"Why don't you get a room somewhere, and so always have a home to
go to?"