Can I come?"
Pep hung his head.
"We live in a garret, and you'd find it mighty dirty. Nobody with good
clothes has got any right there."
"We won't mind the dirt," put in Frank eagerly. "Only let us come. I'm
sure we can help you some."
"Where can we meet you, Pep?" asked Richard, seeing that the little
Arab wavered. "I suppose we can't find your home alone very well."
"Guess you can't. We're in a heap down our way. I dunno," the last in
reference to the meeting. "Just wherever you two gentlemen says. You
was so kind I guess dad won't mind my bringin' you."
"Suppose you come up to our house," suggested Frank. "Will you do
that?"
"Yes, sir, if yer want me."
"I do. Come to dinner at one o'clock, and we'll take something along
for your father." Frank described the location and the house in which
he lived. "Do you think you can find it?" he concluded.
"Walk right in de front door wid me eyes shet," laughed Pep. "You're
mighty kind," he added soberly.
"Will you come?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sure?" put in Richard.
"I will, 'ceptin' dad's so sick I can't" replied Pep.
In the evening Richard and Frank took a walk, first up town and then
down Broadway. On the way the boy pointed out to his friend the building
in which the meetings of the Laurel Club were held.
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