"I don't like him at all, Dick," said Frank, decidedly. "I wish I could get something else to do."
"You can, after a while. As you have no capital you must take what you can get now."
"So I suppose; but I didn't come to the city for this."
"If you don't like it you can leave in a few days."
This Frank fully resolved to do at the first favorable opportunity.
Dick showed him where he could buy the articles he was commissioned to purchase; and Frank, after obtaining them, went back to the tenement-house.
Mills scrupulously demanded the change, and put it back into his pocket. Then he made Frank pour out the ale into a glass. This he drank with apparent zest, but offered none to Frank.
"Ale isn't good for boys," he said. "You can cut the bread, and eat two slices. Don't cut them too thick."
The blind man ate some of the bread himself, and then requested Frank to help him on with his coat and vest.
"I haven't taken any money to-day," he said "I must try to collect some, or I shall starve. It's a sad thing to be blind," he continued, his voice changing to a whine.
"You don't look blind," said Frank, thoughtfully. "Your eyes are open."
"What if they are?" said Mills, testily. "I cannot see. When I go out I close them, because the light hurts them."
Led by Frank, the blind man descended the stairs, and emerged into the street.
CHAPTER IV.
"PITY THE BLIND."
"Where shall I lead you?" asked Frank.
"To Broadway first. Do you know Broadway?"
"Yes, sir."
"Be careful when we cross the street, or you will have me run over."
"All right, sir."
"If any one asks you about me, say I am your uncle."
"But you are not."
"What difference does that make, you little fool?" said the blind man, roughly. "Are you ashamed to own me as your uncle?"
Frank felt obliged, out of politeness, to say "No;" but in his own mind he was not quite sure whether he would be willing to acknowledge any relationship to the disagreeable old man whom he was leading.
They reached Broadway, and entered a store devoted to gentlemen's furnishing goods.
"Charity for a poor blind man!" whined Mills, in the tone of a professional beggar.
"Look here, old fellow, you come in here too often," said a young salesman. "I gave you five cents yesterday."
"I didn't know it," said Mills. "I am a poor blind man. All places are alike to me."
"Then your boy should know better. Nothing for you to-day."
Frank and his companion left the store.
In the next they were more fortunate. A nickel was bestowed upon the blind mendicant.
"How much is it?" asked Mills, when they were on the sidewalk.
"Five cents, sir."
"That's better than nothing, but we ought to do better. It takes a good many five-cent pieces to make a dollar. When you see a well-dressed lady coming along, tell me."
Frank felt almost as much ashamed as if he were himself begging, but he must do what was expected of him. Accordingly he very soon notified the blind man that a lady was close at hand.
"Lead me up to her, and say, Can you spare something for my poor, blind uncle?"
Frank complied in part, but instead of "poor, blind uncle" he said "poor, blind man." Mills scowled, as he found himself disobeyed.
"How long has he been blind?" asked the lady, sympathetically.
"For many years," whined Mills.
"Is this your boy?"
"Yes, ma'am; he is my young nephew, from the country."
"You are fortunate in having him to go about with you."
"Yes, ma'am; I don't know what I should do without him."
"Here is something for you, my good man," said the lady, and passed on.
"Thank you, ma'am. May Heaven bless you!"
"How much is it?" he asked quickly, when the lady was out of hearing.
"Two cents," answered Frank, suppressing with difficulty an inclination to laugh.
"The mean jade! I should like to wring her neck!" muttered Mills. "I thought it was a quarter, at least."
In the next store they did not meet a cordial reception.
"Clear out, you old humbug!" shouted the proprietor, who was in ill-humor. "You ought to be put in the penitentiary for begging about the streets."
"I pray to God that you may become blind yourself," said Mills, passionately.
"Out of my store, or I'll have you arrested, both of you!" said the angry tradesman. "Here, you boy, don't you bring that old fraud in this store again, if you know what's best for yourself."
There was nothing to do but to comply with this peremptory order.
"He's a beast!" snarled Mills; "I'd like to put his eyes out myself."
"You haven't got a very amiable temper," thought Frank. "I wouldn't like to be blind; but even if I were, I would try to be pleasanter."
Two young girls, passing by, noticed the blind man. They were soft-hearted, and stopped to inquire how long he had been blind.
"Before you were born, my pretty maid," said Mills, sighing.
"I have an aunt who is blind," said one of the girls; "but she is not poor, like you."
"I am very poor," whined Mills; "I have not money enough to pay my rent, and I may be turned out into the street."
"How sad!" said the young girl, in a tone of deep sympathy. "I have not much money, but I will give you all I have."
"May God bless you, and spare your eyes!" said Mills, as he closed his hand upon the money.
"How much is it?" he asked as before, when they had passed on.
"Twenty-five cents," said Frank.
"That is better," said Mills, in a tone of satisfaction.
For some time afterwards all applications were refused; in some cases, roughly.
"Why don't you work?" asked one man, bluntly.
"What can I do?" asked Mills.
"That's your lookout. Some blind men work. I suppose you would rather get your living by begging."
"I would work my fingers to the bone if I could only see," whined Mills.
"So you say; but I don't believe it. At any rate, that boy of yours can see. Why don't you set him to work?"
"He has to take care of me."
"I would work if I could get anything to do," said Frank.
As he spoke, he felt his hand pressed forcibly by his companion, who did not relish his answer.
"I cannot spare him," he whined. "He has to do everything for me."
When they were again in the street, Mills demanded, roughly, "What did you mean by saying that?"
"What, sir?"
"That you wanted to go to work."
"Because it is true."
"You are at work; you are working for me," said Mills.
"I would rather work in a store, or an office, or sell papers."
"That wouldn't do me any good. Don't speak in that way again."
The two were out about a couple of hours, and very tiresome