“You had better let me pay for both tickets.”

Though he said this, he didn’t make any motion to do so.

“No, I will pay for both,” said Herbert.

“But I really cannot permit you to pay for mine.”

And still the speaker made no movement to purchase his ticket.

Herbert settled the matter by laying half a dollar on the desk, and asking for two tickets.  He began to see that, in spite of his disclaimer, his guide intended him to do so.  On the whole, this didn’t please him.  He would rather have had his offer frankly accepted.

“I didn’t mean to have you pay,” said the young man, as they passed through the door admitting them to an inner apartment, from which there was an exit into a small, inclosed yard, through which they were to reach the entrance to a spiral staircase by which the ascent was made.

Herbert did not answer, for he understood that his guide was not telling the truth, and he did not like falsehood or deceit.

They entered the monument and commenced the ascent.

“We have a tiresome ascent before us,” said the other.

“How many steps are there?” asked Herbert.

“About three hundred,” was the reply.

At different points in the ascent they came to landings where they could catch glimpses of the outward world through long, narrow, perpendicular slits in the sides of the monument.

At last they reached the top.

Herbert’s guide looked about him sharply, and seemed disappointed to find a lady and gentleman and child also enjoying the view.

Herbert had never been so high before.  Indeed, he had never been in any high building, and he looked about him with a novel sense of enjoyment.

“What a fine view there is here!” he said.

“True,” assented his companion.  “Let me point out to you the different towns visible to the naked eye.”

“I wish you would,” said the boy.

So his guide pointed out Cambridge, Chelsea, Malden, the Charles and Mystic Rivers, gleaming in the sunshine, the glittering dome of the Boston State House and other conspicuous objects.  Herbert felt that it was worth something to have a companion who could do him this service, and he felt the extra twenty cents he had paid for his companion’s ticket was a judicious investment.

He noticed with some surprise that his companion seemed annoyed by the presence of the other party already referred to.  He scowled and shrugged his shoulders when he looked at them, and in a low voice, inaudible to those of whom he spoke, he said to Herbert:  “Are they going to stay here all day?”

“What does it matter to me if they do?” returned Herbert, in surprise.

Indeed, to him they seemed very pleasant people, and he was especially attracted by the sweet face of the little girl.  He wished he had been fortunate enough to possess such a sister.

At last, however, they finished their sightseeing, and prepared to descend.  Herbert’s companion waited till the sound of their descending steps died away, and then, turning to Herbert, said in a quick, stern tone:  “Now give me the money you have in your pocket.”