le, as well as by
the fact of Phil's having thus far outwitted him. He secretly determined
that when he did get him into his power he would revenge himself for all
the trouble to which he had been put, and there was little doubt that he
would keep his word.

CHAPTER XX

PIETRO'S DISAPPOINTMENT

Though Phil had not taken in much money during the first day of
independence, he had more than paid his expenses. He started on the
second day with a good breakfast, and good spirits. He determined to
walk back to Newark, where he might expect to collect more money than in
the suburbs. If he should meet Pietro he determined not to yield without
a struggle. But he felt better now than at first, and less afraid of the
padrone.

Nine o'clock found him again in Newark. He soon came to a halt, and
began to play. A few paused to listen, but their interest in music did
not extend so far as to affect their pockets. Phil passed around his hat
in vain. He found himself likely to go unrewarded for his labors. But
just then he noticed a carriage with open door, waiting in front of
a fashionable dry-goods store. Two ladies had just come out and taken
their seats preparatory to driving off, when Phil stepped up bareheaded
and held his cap. He was an unusually attractive boy, and as he smiled
one of the ladies, who was particularly fond of children, noticed him.

"What a handsome boy!" she said to her companion.

"Some pennies for music," said Phil.

"How old are you?" asked the lady.

"Twelve years."

"Just the age of my Johnny. If I give you some money what will you do
with it?"

"I will buy dinner," said Phil.

"I never give to vagrants," said the second lady, a spinster of
uncertain age, who did not share her niece's partiality for children.

"It isn't his fault if he is a vagrant, Aunt Maria," said the younger
lady.

"I have no doubt he is a thief," continued Aunt Maria, with acerbity.

"I am not a thief," said Phil, indignantly, for he understood very well
the imputation, and he replaced his cap on his head.

"I don't believe you are," said the first lady; "here, take this," and
she put in his hand twenty-five cents.

"Thank you, signora," said Phil, with a grateful smile.

"That money is thrown away," said the elderly lady; "you are very
indiscriminate in your charity, Eleanor."

"It is better to give too much than too little, Aunt Maria, isn't it?"

"You shouldn't give to unworthy objects."

"How do you kn