"Yes, sir."
"Be careful when we cross the street, or you will have me run over."
"All right, sir."
"If any one asks you about me, say I am your uncle."
"But you are not."
"What difference does that make, you little fool?" said the blind man, roughly. "Are you ashamed to own me as your uncle?"
Frank felt obliged, out of politeness, to say "No;" but in his own mind he was not quite sure whether he would be willing to acknowledge any relationship to the disagreeable old man whom he was leading.
They reached Broadway, and entered a store devoted to gentlemen's furnishing goods.
"Charity for a poor blind man!" whined Mills, in the tone of a professional beggar.
"Look here, old fellow, you come in here too often," said a young salesman. "I gave you five cents yesterday."