The child sat down on the kerbstone, pulled his brother down beside him, and broke the bun in halves. One half he handed to Bob, and would take no refusal. So the two children soon devoured it between them. "I say, Bob," said Willie, when they had finished, "'ave yer 'ad a good day to-day?" "No," said Bob sadly. "Yer see there's no mud about and when there's no mud the people don't take any notice of yer----" "Oh, dear!" said Willie. "Father'll whack yer. I wish yer 'adn't bought me the bun." "I don't, care," responded the other wearily "He may whack me if 'e likes, it don't matter, you shan't be 'ungry if I can 'elp it. Is father indoors?" "Yes," said Willie, beginning to cry, "and I'm so frightened. 'E 'it me this morning. I dunno what's the matter. 'E's been awful angry all day, and now 'e'll beat you. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" Bob's face flushed, and he clenched his hands. For himself he didn't care, but he did care when anything hurt Willie. He couldn't stand that, and he wouldn't. He sat still for a moment lost in thought. At last he sprang up, saying:---"Come on, Willie, we won't go 'ome to-night, we'll find somewhere to sleep. Father shan't 'it yer again. We'll go right away." Willie got up willingly. He had implicit faith in his brother. Whatever Bob said or did was sure to be right. He followed him without a word as Bob led the way up one street and down another, till his little legs began to ache. But it didn't seem as though they could stop, for every time they sat down on a doorstep the policeman came and told them to "Move on!" At last Bob turned into the park, and they sat down under a tree, when Willie soon fell fast asleep. Bob laid the tired little head against his shoulder, and although he became cramped with sitting so long in one position, he would not move for fear of waking him. As he sat there he naturally began to think. What were they going to do? Whatever happened he would take care of Willie. He would have to find another crossing, and Willie would have to go with him. At any rate they would always be together, and nobody should hit Willie again. He knew his father wouldn't come to look for them. He would be only too glad to be rid of them. Were all fathers like his? he wondered. He didn't think so, because he had seen some children running along by the side of their father, and they even laughed and looked as though they were glad. _He_ laughed sometimes at some of the queer things Willie said, but he never laughed if his father was there. No, they couldn't all be alike. As he sat there thinking, it had become quite dark, and presently he heard the park-keeper calling, "All out!" Very gently he roused the little sleeper, and again they trudged along, on and on, till at last they found themselves at Covent Garden Market, and there Bob resolve to stay for the night. They crept into an empty barrel, and locked in each other's arms they were soon fast asleep. CHAPTER II