Tom Gordon was not only brave, but he was modest; and he hurried away from the swarming crowd as soon as he was free of the ferry-boat, for he found it anything but pleasant to be looked upon and treated as a lion. Turning off into one of the intersecting streets, the two lads walked along in silence, when Tom said,--

"Do you know, Jim, I'm half-frozen?"

The rattling teeth emphasized the question.

"I should think you would be. Here's a place of some kind; let's go in and have something to eat, and you can warm yourself."

Jim led the way; and as he pushed open the green-baize doors, which worked on springs, he saw they had entered one of those nondescript shops, so numerous in certain parts of New York, where a person can obtain any kind of alcoholic drink, a cigar, a lunch, a "square meal," or a night's lodging, or all.

Jim recognized the resort, and he would have withdrawn but through sympathy for his shivering companion. The latter could scarcely stand from cold, his clothing was soaked, and, in the keen air, had congealed so that it rattled like tarpauling as he walked.

Just back from the door was a large stove, whose bulging, white-washed cylinder, gleamed red with heat.

Tom immediately stepped up to this and began to thaw himself out.

"Ah, that feels nice!" he laughed to his companion.

"Well, young man, what do you want in here?" asked the bartender, in a sharp, business-like style, bustling from behind the counter with the evident intention of "bouncing" the lads.

"I want to get dry and warm," was the reply of Tom, from whose clothing the steam was beginning to ascend.

"This ain't a shop to dry out boys. Why don't you go home?"

"We haven't any home."

"That's played; go where you stayed last night."

"That's near a hundred miles from here."

Two or three loungers laughed at the rather pert style in which Tom made his replies, though in truth the lad meant no disrespect. The bartender turned red in the face, and was angered at being taken up as he was.

"Hello, my wharf-rat, how did you get so wet?"

"In the water."

"He jumped off the ferry-boat to save a little girl," said Jim, seeing the storm brewing, and desirous of putting in a good word for his friend.

This declaration was received with a guffaw, not one of the hearers believing a word of it.

"Jumped off to get away from the Bobbies," sneered the bartender. "If you don't get out of here quicker'n lightning I'll hand you over to them."

"We can go out if you say so," said Tom, in the same good-natured manner; "but we came in to get our supper and stay all night."

"Have you got the stamps to pay for it?"

"If we hadn't we'd know better than to come in here."

"All right; my terms are a half a dollar apiece for supper and lodging."

"What is it with breakfast?"

"Seventy-five cents."

"We might as well pay you now."

And in his off-hand fashion Tom drew from his water-soaked pocket his portemonnaie, remarking to Jim that they would arrange it between themselves, and handed the exact change to the somewhat surprised bartender and clerk.

That made a difference; and the servant became as obsequious as if he had just recognized in his visitor a millionaire that had dropped in to spend a part of his fortune with him.

The boys were hungry, as may be supposed, and they fell to eating like a couple of famished wanderers. Only a mouthful or two was swallowed when Jim exclaimed,--

"Hello, Tom; where did you get that gold chain?"

"What are you talking about?" demanded Tom, looking up at his friend.

"I'll show you;" and, as Jim spoke, he reached over and unhooked a tiny gold chain from the upper button of his friend's coat, around which it was twined in a singular manner.

More than that, there was a locket attached to it.

"That's the strangest thing I ever heard tell of," said Tom, as he examined the chain and locket. "I never knew it was there till you spoke."

"You must have got it fro............