“I heard Tom call her Alice once.”
The tramp's eyes glistened.
“And Mr. Coates?” he inquired.
“Oh, I never heard of him. I guess he died long ago.”
“And Tommy Hackett's father, who's he?”
“He's the boss down at the freight station. Agent, I think they call him.”
“Where does this Mrs. Coates live?”
“She lives with the Hacketts. Would you like to see the house? Me and Dick has to go past it on the way home. We'll show you.”
“Yes, I would like to see the house.”
The boys arose, one of them rather sleepily. They led the way across the railway company's lot, then along a sparsely built up street, and around the corner into a more populous but quiet highway. At the corner was a grocery and dry-goods store; beyond that were neat and airy two-story houses, fronted by a yard closed in by iron fences. One of these houses had a little piazza, on which sat two children. From the open half-door and from two windows came light.