"Can you play on the harmonica?" he asked.
"Only a little. Of course I can't play like you."
"Do you like my playing, then?"
"You play bully."
Dean was gratified, not so much out of vanity, as because it encouraged him to think that others also might regard his performance with favor.
"I am glad you like it," he said. "Are you going to the entertainment this evening?"
"I should like to," said the boy, wistfully, "but I don't have much money to spend. I have to work for a living."
"He little thinks that I am worse off than he," thought Dean. "He has a home, while I am over a thousand miles from mine, and with only five cents in my pocket."
"It won't cost you anything to come in," he said in a friendly manner. "I shall be at the door, and I will let you in free."
"Will you, really?" queried the boy, overjoyed.