"
By this time the grocer perceived that he had made a mistake.
"I hope you will reconsider that, Mr. Pomeroy," he said,
abjectly. "The fact is, I had no objections to the boys warming
themselves, but they are mostly thieves, and I could not keep my
eyes on them all the time."
"I think you are mistaken. They don't look like thieves. Did
you ever have anything stolen by one of this class of boys?"
"Not that I know of," said the grocer, hesitatingly; "but it is
likely they would steal if they got a chance."
"We have no right to say that of anyone without good cause."
"We never steal," said Phil, indignantly; for he understood what
was said.
"Of course he says so," sneered the grocer. "Come and warm
yourselves, if you want to."
The boys accepted this grudging invitation, and drew near the
stove. They spread out their hands, and returning warmth proved
very grateful to them.
"Have you been out long?" asked the gentleman who had interceded
in their behalf, also drawing near the stove.
"Since eight, signore."
"Do you live in Brooklyn?"
"No; in New York."
"And do you go out every day?"
"Si, signore."
"How long since you came from Italy?"
"A year.
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