dn't bring 'em here till night.
We came near gettin' caught."

"How long have you been down here?"

"Most a month."

"It's a good place."

"Yes," said Mike, "and the rent is very reasonable. We don't have to pay
nothin' for lodgin'. It's cheaper'n the Lodge."

"That's so," said Ben. "I'm sleepy," he said, gaping. "I've been to the
Old Bowery to-night. Good-night!"

"Good-night!"

In five minutes Ben was fast asleep. Half an hour later, and not a sound
was heard in the room under the wharf except the occasional deep
breathing of some of the boys. The policeman who trod his beat near by
little suspected that just at hand, and almost under his feet, was a
rendezvous of street vagrants and juvenile thieves, for such I am sorry
to say was the character of some of the boys who frequented these cheap
lodgings.

In addition to the articles already described there were two or three
chairs, which had been contributed by different members of the
organization.

Ben slept soundly through the night. When he woke up, the gray morning
light entering from the open front towards the sea had already lighted
up indistinctly the space between the floors. Two or three of the boys
were already sitting up, yawning and stretching themselves after their
night's slumber. Among these was Mike Sweeny.

"Are you awake, Ben?" he asked.

"Yes," said Ben; "I didn't hardly know where I was at first."

"It's a bully place, isn't it?"

"That's so. How'd you come across it?"

"Oh, some of us boys found it out. We've been sleepin' here a month."

"Won't you let a feller in?"

"We might let you in. I'll speak to the boys."

"I'd like to sleep here," said Ben. "It's a good deal better than
sleepin' out round. Who runs the hotel?"

"Well, I'm one of 'em."

"You might call it Sweeny's Hotel," suggested Ben, laughing.

"I aint the boss; Jim Bagley's got most to do with it."

"Which is he?"

"That's he, over on the next bed."

"What does he do?"

"He's a travellin' match merchant."

"That sounds big."

"Jim's smart,--he is. He makes more money'n any of us."

"Where does he travel?"

"Once he went to Californy in the steamer. He got a steerage ticket for
seventy-five dollars; but he made more'n that blackin' boots for the
other passengers afore they got there. He stayed there three months, and
then came home."

"Does he travel now?"

"Yes, he buys a lot of matches, and goes up the river or down into
Jersey, and is gone a