ds of
sympathy.

"Thank you," he said.

"Good-night," said the stranger, kindly.

"Good-night, signore."

An hour passed. The City Hall clock near by struck eleven. The time had
come for returning to their mercenary guardian. Phil shook the sleeping
form of Giacomo. The little boy stirred in his sleep, and murmured,
"Madre." He had been dreaming of his mother and his far-off Italian
home. He woke to the harsh realities of life, four thousand miles away
from that mother and home.

"Have I slept, Filippo?" he asked, rubbing his eyes, and looking about
him in momentary bewilderment.

"Yes, Giacomo. You have slept for two hours and more. It is eleven
o'clock."

"Then we must go back."

"Yes; take your violin, and we will go."

They passed out into the cold street, which seemed yet colder by
contrast with the warm hotel they just left, and, crossing to the
sidewalk that skirts the park, walked up Centre street.

Giacomo was seized with a fit of trembling. His teeth chattered with
the cold. A fever was approaching, although neither he nor his companion
knew it.

"Are you cold, Giacomo?" asked Phil, noticing how he trembled.

"I am very cold. I feel sick, Filippo."

"You will feel better to-morrow," said Phil; but the thought of the
beating which his little comrade was sure to receive saddened him more
than the prospect of being treated in the same way himself.

They kept on their way, past the Tombs with its gloomy entrance, through
the ill-lighted street, scarcely noticed by the policeman whom they
passed--for he was accustomed to see boys of their class out late at
night--until at last they reached the dwelling of the padrone, who was
waiting their arrival with the eagerness of a brutal nature, impatient
to inflict pain.

CHAPTER XI

THE BOYS RECEPTION

Phil and Giacomo entered the lodging-house, wholly unconscious of the
threatening storm, The padrone scowled at them as they entered but that
was nothing unusual. Had he greeted them kindly, they would have had
reason to be surprised.

"Well," he said, harshly, "how much do you bring?"

The boys produced two dollars and a half which he pocketed.

"Is this all?" he asked.

"It was cold," said Phil, "and we could not get more."

The padrone listened with an ominous frown.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Do you want your supper?"

Phil was puzzled by his manner, for he expected to be deprived of his
supper on account of bringing less money th