"You are very kind," he said.
"And now you may take me to your home. Perhaps I can think of some way to relieve your father."
"Come this way, then," said Harry.
Rupert followed him to the entrance of the tenement house.
"I don't know but you'll be tired going up so many stairs," he said. "We live on the top floor."
"I'm not a very old man yet," laughed Rupert. "I guess I can stand it if you can."
The halls were dark and dingy, and there was an unwholesome tenement-house odor. Through one open door Rupert caught sight of a drunken man lying prone on the floor. Evidently the occupants of the house were for the most part of a low class. But when Rupert followed his little guide into the home of his parents on the upper floor, he found respectable, and not squalid, poverty. There was an air of neatness pervading the room, while Harry's parents looked thoroughly honest. Mr. Benton gazed inquiringly at Rupert.
"I hope you'll excuse my intrusion," said Rupert, politely, "but your little boy seemed in trouble and I ventured to come upstairs with him."
"I couldn't sell my papers," explained Harry. "He took all I had left," indicating Rupert.