But here the usual bump indicated the arrival of the boat at the slip, and all the passengers, the painter included, rose, and hurried to the edge of the boat.
With the rest went Mark. He had no particular object in going thus early; but his sleep was over, and there was no inducement to remain longer in the boat.
The rain was over also. The streets were still wet from the effects of the quantity that had fallen, but there was no prospect of any more. Mark's wet clothes had dried in the warm, dry atmosphere of the cabin, and he felt considerably better than on the evening previous.
Now, however, he could not help wondering what Mother Watson had thought of his absence.
"She'll be mad, I know," he thought. "I suppose she'll whip me when I get back."
This certainly was not a pleasant thought. The leather strap was an old enemy of his, which he dreaded, and with good reason. He was afraid that he would get a more severe beating, for not having returned the night before, at the hands of the angry old woman.
"I wish I didn't live with Mother Watson," he thought.
Straight upon this thought came another." Why should he?"
Mother Watson had no claim upon him. Upon his mother's death she had assumed the charge of him, but, as it turned out, rather for her own advantage than his. She had taken all his earnings, and given him in return a share of her miserable apartment, a crust of bread or two, daily seasoned with occasional assaults with the leather strap. It had never occurred to Mark before, but now for the first time it dawned upon him that he had the worst of the bargain. He could live more comfortably by retaining his earnings, and spending them upon himself.
Mark was rather a timid, mild-mannered boy, or he would sooner have rebelled against the tyranny and abuse of Mother Watson. But he had had little confidence in himself, and wanted somebody to lean on. In selecting the old woman, who had acted thus far as his guardian, he had leaned upon a broken reed. The last night's experience gave him a little courage. He reflected that he could sleep in the Newsboys' Lodging House for five cents, or on the ferry-boat again for two, while the fare at his old home was hardly so sumptuous but that he could obtain the same without very large expense.