poor
little fellow. He held his position at the inn by the fact that he was
willing to work "for his board" and whatever the guests might chance to
bestow upon him. The landlord had the name of a "skin-flint," whether
justly or not the boarders didn't know.

It was to his interest, however, to serve _them_ well and he did it; but
it was rumored that the "help" fared upon the leavings of the guests'
plates, and in that atmosphere of healthy appetites such leavings were
scant. Anyway, Tommy was always hungry, and the fact showed in his
pinched, eager little face.

"You're foolin'. Here 'tis back;" he finally gasped, extending his hand
toward Monty with a pitiful attempt at a smile.

"Fooling? Not one bit. You put that where it's safe, and the first
chance you get run into the village to some restaurant and get yourself
a good square meal. Then go to the circus, if you want. I see by the
placards that one is coming."

"Oh! Pshaw! I don't know what to say. But, if you do mean it, I ain't
going to no restaurant. I'm going home to my mother the first leave off
I get and give it to her. She can't make her rent hardly, sewing, and
she'll cook a dinner for me to the queen's taste! Wish you'd come and
eat it with us."

"Wish I could," answered Monty, with a warm glow in his heart. He hadn't
often had such a look of rapturous gratitude turned upon him and it gave
him a most delightful sensation. "But you see we're off by the afternoon
train. Going to hurry along now till we get into camp. See you later,
maybe."

Then they were at the hotel entrance and master Tommy made haste to
bestow his treasure in the safest place he knew until his brief hour of
recreation should arrive and he could take it home. But how he worked
that day! Even the keen-eyed proprietor could find no manner of fault
with the nimble little fellow, who answered bells like a flash, so
smilingly trotted about with pitchers of ice-water, and so regretfully
watched the departure of the Breckenridge party from the house. And in
justice to him be it said this regret was after all and most sincerely
for the courteous treatment all of them had given him.

"Some folks--_some_ folks think a bell-boy hain't no feelings, but I
might ha' been--Why, I might ha' been _them_, their own folks, so nice
they all were to me;" thought the lad, watching the afternoon train
bearing them all away, and secretly wiping the tears from his eyes.
However, even for him, deserted as