“Oh, we’ve got beds enough in our house. Will you stay?”
Phil reflected that he had no place to sleep in Newark except such as he might hire, and decided to accept the offer of his new friend.
“This is my night off from the store,” he said. “I haven’t got to come back after supper. Just stay around here till six o’clock. Then I’ll take you home and give you some supper, and then we’ll play this evening.”
Phil had no objection to this arrangement. In fact, it promised to be an agreeable one for him. As he was sure of a supper, a bed and breakfast, there was no particular necessity for him to earn anything more that day. However, he went out for an hour or two, and succeeded in collecting twenty-five cents. He realized, however, that it was not so easy to pick up pennies in the country as in the city—partly because population is sparser and partly because, though there is less privation in the country, there is also less money.
A little before six Phil’s new friend, whose name he ascertained was Edwin Grover, washed his hands, and, putting on his coat, said “Come along, Phil.”
Phil, who had been sitting near the stove, prepared to accompany him.
“We haven’t got far to go,” said Edwin, who was eighteen. “I am glad of that, for the sooner I get to the supper table the better.”
After five minutes’ walk they stopped at a comfortable two-story house near the roadside.
“That’s where I put up,” said Edwin.
He opened the door and entered, followed by Phil, who felt a little bashful, knowing that he was not expected.