At length they arose from the table, somewhat to Dick’s relief.  Again Ida devoted herself to the boys, and exhibited a profusely illustrated Bible for their entertainment.  Dick was interested in looking at the pictures, though he knew very little of their subjects.  Henry Fosdick was much better informed, as might have been expected.

When the boys were about to leave the house with Mr. Greyson for the Sunday school, Ida placed her hand in Dick’s, and said persuasively, “You’ll come again, Dick, won’t you?”

“Thank you,” said Dick, “I’d like to,” and he could not help thinking Ida the nicest girl he had ever seen.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Greyson, hospitably, “we shall be glad to see you both here again.”

“Thank you very much,” said Henry Fosdick, gratefully.  “We shall like very much to come.”

I will not dwell upon the hour spent in Sunday school, nor upon the remarks of Mr. Greyson to his class.  He found Dick’s ignorance of religious subjects so great that he was obliged to begin at the beginning with him.  Dick was interested in hearing the children sing, and readily promised to come again the next Sunday.

When the service was over Dick and Henry walked homewards.  Dick could not help letting his thoughts rest on the sweet little girl who had given him so cordial a welcome, and hoping that he might meet her again.

“Mr. Greyson is a nice man,—­isn’t he, Dick?” asked Henry, as they were turning into Mott Street, and were already in sight of their lodging-house.

“Aint he, though?” said Dick.  “He treated us just as if we were young gentlemen.”

“Ida seemed to take a great fancy to you.”

“She’s a tip-top girl,” said Dick, “but she asked so many questions that I didn’t know what to say.”

He had scarcely finished speaking, when a stone whizzed by his head, and, turning quickly, he saw Micky Maguire running round the corner of the street which they had just passed.

CHAPTER XVIII

MICKY MAGUIRE’S SECOND DEFEAT

Dick was no coward.  Nor was he in the habit of submitting passively to an insult.  When, therefore, he recognized Micky as his assailant, he instantly turned and gave chase.  Micky anticipated pursuit, and ran at his utmost speed.  It is doubtful if Dick would have overtaken him, but Micky had the ill luck to trip just as he had entered a narrow alley, and, falling with some violence, received a sharp blow from the hard stones, which made him scream with pain.

“Ow!” he whined.  “Don’t you hit a feller when he’s down.”

“What made you fire that stone at me?” demanded our hero, looking down at the fallen bully.

“Just for fun,” said Micky.

“It would have been a very agreeable s’prise if it had hit me,” said Dick.  “S’posin’ I fire a rock at you jest for fun.”

“Don’t!” exclaimed Micky, in alarm.