"Where are the beds?" asked Ben, looking about him.
"They are on the floor below. Any of the boys will go down and show you when you get ready to retire."
"Can I get breakfast here in the morning?" inquired Ben.
"Certainly. We charge the same as for lodging."
Ben handed over six cents additional, and congratulated himself that he was not as badly off as the night before, being sure of a comfortable bed, and a breakfast in the morning.
"What are those for?" he asked, pointing to a row of drawers or lockers on the sides of the apartment near the floor.
"Boys who have any extra clothing, or any articles which they value, are allowed to use them. Here they are safe, as they can be locked. We will assign you one if you wish."
"I have nothing to put away," said Ben. "I had a little bundle of clothes; but they were stolen from me while I was lying asleep on a bench in the City Hall Park."
"I suppose you don't know who took them?"
"No," said Ben; "but I think it was some of the boys that were blacking boots near me.—That boy's got one of them on," he said, suddenly, in an excited tone, pointing out Mike, the younger of the two boys who had appropriated his bundle. Mike had locked up his own shirt, which was considerably the worse for wear, and put on Ben's, which gave him a decidedly neater appearance than before. He had thought himself perfectly safe in doing so, not dreaming that he would be brought face to face with the true owner in the Lodge.