"Why do you ask me that?" demanded old Ben, suspiciously.
"Oh, if it's a secret, don't tell me," said Tony, indifferently.
"Who said it was a secret?" said the old man, irritably.
The old man surveyed Tony with a look of doubt, as if he thought the boy were laying a trap for him.
"Don't answer anything you don't want to," said our hero. "I only asked for the sake of saying something."
"I don't mind telling," said old Ben, more calmly. "It was because I was so poor. I thought I could do better in America."
"When I was able to work. Now I'm weak and poor, and can't always get enough to eat."
"Yes, but it's a very poor place. It isn't worth much."
"You're a good lad--an excellent lad. You see how poor I am."
"Of course I do, and I'm sorry for you. I would help you, only I am very poor myself."
"Have you got any money?" asked Ben, with interest.
"I've got five cents," answered Tony, laughing. "I hope you've got more than that."
"A little more--a very little more," said Ben, cautiously.
The old miser began to consider whether he couldn't charge Tony five cents for his lodging, but sighed at the recollection that Tony had already paid for it in advance by giving him a supper.
When eight o'clock came the miser suggested going to bed.
"I haven't any lights," he said; "candles cost so much. Besides, a body's better off in bed."
"I'm willing to go to bed," said Tony. "I've walked a good deal to-day, and I'm tired."
They went into the house. There was a heap of rags in the corner of the room when they entered.
"That's my bed," said old Ben; "it's all I have."
He took off his jacket, and rolled it up for a pillow, and stretched himself out on the bare floor. He had often slept so before.
TONY HIRES OUT AS A COOK AND HOUSEKEEPER.
Tony was not slow in going to sleep. Neither his hard bed nor his strange bed-chamber troubled him. He could sleep anywhere. That was one of the advantages of his checkered life.
Generally he slept all night without awaking, but to-night, for some unknown reason, he awoke about two o'clock. It was unusually light for that hour, and so he was enabled to see what at first startled him. The old man was out of bed, and on his knees in the center of the room. He had raised a plank, forming a part of the flooring, and had raised from beneath it a canvass bag full of gold pieces. He was taking them out and counting them, apparently quite unconscious of Tony's presence.