“Are you cold, Giacomo?” asked Phil, noticing how he trembled.
“I am very cold. I feel sick, Filippo.”
“You will feel better to-morrow,” said Phil; but the thought of the beating which his little comrade was sure to receive saddened him more than the prospect of being treated in the same way himself.
They kept on their way, past the Tombs with its gloomy entrance, through the ill-lighted street, scarcely noticed by the policeman whom they passed—for he was accustomed to see boys of their class out late at night—until at last they reached the dwelling of the padrone, who was waiting their arrival with the eagerness of a brutal nature, impatient to inflict pain.
CHAPTER XI
THE BOYS RECEPTION
Phil and Giacomo entered the lodging-house, wholly unconscious of the threatening storm, The padrone scowled at them as they entered but that was nothing unusual. Had he greeted them kindly, they would have had reason to be surprised.
“Well,” he said, harshly, “how much do you bring?”
The boys produced two dollars and a half which he pocketed.