"Why won't you tell me? I don't want to hurt you."
"Dad said afore he got sick he didn't want people to know it; that's why," exclaimed Pep finally.
"Why not? He's honest, I'm sure."
"Honest? Bet yer he is! But he don't want his old friends to know how he's come down."
"Oh!" exclaimed Richard, a new light breaking in upon him.
"Then you were better off once?"
"'Deed we were when marm was alive, and sister Mary. When they died dad went on a spree—the first and last one—and spent what money was left after the bills was paid. Then he sold our stuff and we came here, and I got into the streets."
"How long ago is that?"
"'Most three years. It's been tough times since then."
And Pep suddenly raised his coat sleeve to wipe away two big tears that had started to come down his cheeks.