"Never mind about your clothes, Tom. We don't generally put on dress
suits. A little soap and water will make you all right."

"What'll your mudder say?"

"That any friend of mine is welcome."

So Tom allowed himself to be persuaded, and had no reason to complain of
his reception. The steak emitted appetizing odors as it was being
broiled, and when at length supper was ready no one enjoyed it more than
Tom.

"How do you think my mother can cook, Tom?" asked Mark.

"She beats Beefsteak John all hollow. I just wish she'd open a eaten'
house."

"I'll think about it, Tom," said Mrs. Mason smiling. "Would you be one
of my regular customers?"

"I would if I had money enough."

It is hard to say which enjoyed the supper most. The day before Mrs.
Mason had been anxious and apprehensive, but to-day, with a surplus fund
of thirteen dollars, she felt in high spirits.

This may seem a small sum to many of our readers, but to the frugal
little household it meant nearly two weeks' comfort.

The table was cleared, and Mark and Tom sat down to a game of checkers.
They had just finished the first game when steps were heard on the
stairs and directly there was a knock at the door.

"Go to the door, Mark," said his mother.

Mark opened the door and found himself in the presence of a stout man,
rather showily dressed, and wearing a white hat.

"Is this Mark Mason?" asked the visitor.

"Yes, sir."

The visitor took out a copy of the _Evening Globe_, and compared Mark
with the picture.

"Yes, I see you are," he proceeded. "You are the telegraph boy that
disarmed the dynamite crank in Mr. Rockwell's office."

"Yes, sir."

"Allow me to say, young man, I wouldn't have been in your shoes at that
moment for ten thousand dollars."

"I wouldn't want to go through it again myself," smiled Mark.

All the while he was wondering why the stout man should have taken the
trouble to come and see him.

"Perhaps you'll know me when I tell you that I'm Bunsby," said the stout
visitor drawing himself up and inflating his chest with an air of
importance.

"Of Bunsby's Dime Museum?" asked Mark.

"Exactly! You've hit it the first time. Most people have heard of me,"
he added complacently.

"Oh yes, sir, I've heard of you often. So have you, Tom?"

"Yes," answered Tom, fixing his eyes on Mr. Bunsby with awe-struck
deference, "I've been to de museum often."

"Mr. Bunsby," said Mark gravely, "this is my particular friend, Tom
Tro