“Don’t worry about it, Markham,” said Frank, observing deep sadness and distress shadow the bright face of his companion. “You come home with me. I’ve got so good a mother she will welcome you gladly.” “But I want to work,” said Markham. “Haven’t I got work waiting ready for you, and lots of it, too?” demanded Frank. “That’s so, is it?” said Markham, brightening up. “My! to be away--away from the city in a quiet, beautiful town. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! You are the first real friend I’ve found in six months, and--I can’t help it.” “That’s right--get rid of all your old troubles,” said Frank, and he did not think the less of his new friend because he had a good, solid cry. “There’s nothing but sunshine ahead for you, if I can help you any.” Frank warmed to the boy as they continued their conversation. A dark spell seemed to lift from Markham’s spirit, each mile accomplished away from the great city that appeared to hold some secret, haunting dread for him. “Greenville,” announced Frank heartily at length--“and home.” The hour was late, the streets deserted, but, as they strolled away from the little railroad depot, Markham walked like a person in some rapt dream. He drew in great luxurious breaths of the flower-perfumed air. He viewed pretty moonlit lawns and gardens as if he were looking at some fascinating picture. “Like it, do you?” smiled Frank. “I love the country. I always did,” replied Markham. “This is just grand to me. Look here, now,” he continued, “you had better let me stow myself in some friendly haystack or under some hedge till morning. Don’t disturb your mother to-night about me.” “Disturb her?” said Frank. “No danger of her going to bed till I show up, if it’s till morning. There we are--there’s the light in the window for us, Markham.” Frank led his friend upstairs over the store. Markham lagged behind until the greetings between mother and son were over. He stepped a little timidly forward, as he heard Frank say: “Mother, I have brought a friend home with me. This is my mother, Markham.” Mrs. Ismond received the homeless boy with a sweet, welcoming smile that won his heart entirely. She told Frank to take him into the sitting room while she herself hustled about the kitchen. Frank left Markham long enough to join his mother and tell her what he owed to his new companion. “It’s late,” said Mrs. Ismond a few minutes later, “but you must eat a good meal after your long, busy day, and I positively will wake up nobody in this house until nine o’clock in the morning.” There were only two beds in the house. Frank shared his with Markham. The latter wore a happy smile on his face as he stretched himself out luxuriously. “That supper!” he said, in a rapturous sort of a way. “This nice comfortable bed! I’ve got to shut my eyes for fear it will all turn out a dream.”