"I say, boy," said the leader, uneasily, "that was all a lie about the ten-dollar bill. You didn't see straight. Did he, Bates?"
"Of course he didn't."
"One lies and the other swears to it," thought Frank.
"Nothing will be done about it," he said, "if you will let Fred alone hereafter. The money you have won from him belongs to his mother, and, unless you keep away from him, she will order your arrest."
"You're altogether too smart for a boy of your size," sneered the other. "Take your friend away. We don't care to associate with a milksop, who allows himself to be ordered around by women and children."
Fortunately Fred was too drowsy to pay heed to what was being said; in fact he was very sleepy, and was anxious to go to bed. Frank got him into a cab, and in twenty minutes they safely reached his mother's house in Thirty-eighth street.
Mrs. Vivian was anxiously awaiting the return of the prodigal.
"O Fred," she said, "how could you stay away so, when you know how worried I get? You have been drinking, too."
"This is my friend, Frank Kavanagh," hiccoughed Fred.
"Shall I go up and help put him to bed?" asked Frank.