When Barber came in, it was plain to Johnnie that the longshoreman knew instantly why the man had come. At least he showed no surprise at seeing him there. Also, he was indifferent--even amused. After nodding to the visitor, and flashing at him that dangerous white spot, he sat and pushed at first one cheek and then the other with his tongue. "My name's Maloney," began the man, using a severe tone. "I'm here about this boy." Johnnie started. The man's visit concerned himself! He felt sure now that it was about the book. He wondered if there would be a search. Barber thrust out his lip. "You're a long time gittin' here," he returned impudently. And laughed. At that the man seemed less sure of himself. "Don't know how I've missed him," he declared, as if troubled. "Seein' he's been right here in this flat for five years," said the other, sneeringly. Maloney rose, and Johnnie saw that he was angry. "You know the law!" he asserted. "This boy ought to be in school!" School! Johnnie caught his breath. Mr. Maloney was here to help him! Had not Cis declared over and over that some day Big Tom would be arrested for keeping Johnnie home from public school? Mrs. Kukor had agreed. And now this was going to happen! And, oh, school would be Heaven! "Sure," assented Big Tom, smoothly. "But who's goin' t' send him? 'Cause I don't have t' do _anything_ for him." "You'll have to appear before a magistrate," declared the other. "For I'm going to enter a complaint." Barber began to swell. With a curse, he rose and faced Maloney. "Look here!" he said roughly. "This kid is nothin' t' me. I fetched him here when his aunt died. I didn't have t'. But if I hadn't, he'd 've starved, and slept in the streets, or been a cost t' the city. Well, he's been a cost t' me--git that, Mister Maloney? T' _me_! A poor man! I've fed him, and give him a place t' sleep--instead of takin' in roomers, like the rest of the guys do in this buildin'." Again the man looked about him. "Roomers?" he repeated. "Why, there's no ventilation here, and you get no sun. This flat is unfit to live in!" "You tell that t' the landlord!" cried Big Tom, his chest heaving. "He makes me pay good rent for it, even if it _ain't_ fit t' live in!" Maloney shook his head. "Oh, yes, I know all about your city rules," went on the longshoreman. "But the Dagoes in this tenement pack their flats full. I don't. Jus' the boy sleeps in this kitchen. And if it wasn't for me, where'd he be right now? Out in the snow?" Maloney shrugged, sat down, and leaned back, thinking. And in the pause Johnnie thought of several matters. For one thing, now he had a new way of considering his being in the flat. Sure enough, if Barber had not fed and housed him where would he have been? With Uncle Albert? But Uncle Albert had never come down to see him; had not--as Big Tom had often taken the pains to point out--even written Johnnie a postcard. Now the boy suddenly found himself grateful to Barber.