“Get on to de dude!” remarked one boy, who was loosely attired in a ragged shirt and tattered trousers.

“He means me, Mike,” said Rodney with a smile.

“I say, Patsy Glenn, what do you mean by callin’ me friend Rodney a dude?” demanded Mike angrily.

“Coz he’s got a dandy suit on.”

“What if he has?  Wouldn’t you wear one like it if you could!”

“You bet!”

“Then just let him alone!  He’s just got back from de inauguration.”

“Where’d you pick him up, Mike?”

“Never mind!  He’s one of us.  How much money have you got in your pocket Rodney?”

“Thirty two cents.”

“He can’t put on no frills wid dat money.”

“That’s so.  I take it all back,” and Patsy offered a begrimed hand to Rodney, which the latter shook heartily with a pleasant smile.

That turned the tide in favor of Rodney, the boys gathered around him and he told his story in a few words.

“I used to be rich, boys,” he said, “but my guardian spent all my money, and now I am as poor as any of you.”

“You’d ought to have had me for your guardian, Rodney,” observed Mike.

“I wish you had.  You wouldn’t have lost my money for me.”

“True for you!  I say so, boys, if we can find Rodney’s guardian, what’ll we do to him?”

“Give him de grand bounce,” suggested Patsy.

“Drop him out of a high winder,” said another.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t care to tell you, boys.  He’s written me a letter, saying he will try to pay me back some day.  I think he will.  He isn’t a bad man, but he has been unlucky.”

Mike, at the request of Mr. O’Connor, showed Rodney a locker in which he could store such articles of clothing as he had with him.  After that he felt more at home, and as if he were staying at a hotel though an humble one.

At eight o’clock some of the boys had already gone to bed, but Mike and Rodney were among those who remained up.  Rodney noticed with what kindness yet fairness the superintendent managed his unruly flock.  Unruly they might have been with a different man, but he had no trouble in keeping them within bounds.

It was at this time that two strangers were announced, one a New York merchant named Goodnow, the other a tall, slender man with sandy whiskers of the mutton chop pattern.

“Good evening, Mr. Goodnow,” said the superintendent, who recognized the merchant as a friend of the society.

“Good evening, Mr. O’Connor.  I have brought my friend and correspondent Mr. Mulgrave, of London, to see some of your young Arabs.”

“I shall be glad to give him all the opportunity he desires.”

The Englishman looked curiously at the faces of the boys who in turn were examining him with equal interest.

“They are not unlike our boys of a similar grade, but seem sharper and more intelligent,” he said.  “But surely,” pointing to Rodney, “that boy is not one of the—­Arabs.  Why, he looks like a young gentleman.”