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The bar-tender approached again and asked what else they would have. "A little something to wash the dinner down with, Bummerton," said Joe, turning again quickly to Ralph. "Then why don't you live in the Burnham mansion?" he asked, "and leave rude toil for others?" "'Cause my mother ain't able to reco'nize me yet; she can't do it till the suit's ended. They's other heirs, you know."
What was to be done? Perhaps the bar-tender, understanding the difficulty, would help him out of it. He resolved to apply to him. "Mr. Bummerton," he said, approaching the bar again, "now't Joe's gone, an' I ain't got no money, I don't see how I'm goin' to git home. Could could you lend me enough to pay my fare up? I'll send it back to you right away. I will, honest!"
The bar-tender paid no attention to him, and, after a few moments, the boy repeated the question. "Mr. Bummerton, did Joe say when he would be back?" "No, he didn't," responded the man, in a surly tone; "I don't know nothing about him." Ralph went back, and stood by the stove to consider the matter. He thought it was very strange.
"I've only got a dollar'n eighty-two cents." "Well, you see, sonny," said Bummerton, "that ain't more'n half enough. Ye shouldn't order such a fancy dinner 'nless ye've got money to pay for it." "But I didn't know it was goin' to cost so much," protested Ralph. "Uncle Billy an' me got jest as good a dinner last Fourth o' July at a place in Scranton, an' it didn't cost both of us but seventy cents.
Besides, I don't b'lieve " "Look here, Bummerton!" said Joe, rising and leading the bar-tender aside. They whispered together for a few moments and then returned. "It's all right," said Joe. "You're to pay him what money you have, and he's to charge the remainder on my bill. I'll stand the rest of it for you. "I'll be that precious 'friend in need, Who proves himself a friend indeed."
"The hand of friendship, ever true, Brings you to me and me to you. "Mr. Bummerton," turning to the bar-tender, "allow me to introduce my esteemed young friend, Mr. Ralph Craft, the worthy grandson of an old acquaintance." Mr. Bummerton reached a burly hand over the bar and shook hands cordially with Ralph. "Glad to meet your young friend," he said.
Ralph did not remember to have asked Rhyming Joe to dine with him, but he did not want to appear mean, so he said: "Yes, I'll foot the bill; how much is it?" taking out his little leather wallet as he spoke. "It'll be three dollars," said Bummerton; "a dollar an' a quarter apiece for the dinner, an' a quarter apiece for the drinks." Ralph looked up in amazement.
He could hardly believe that Rhyming Toe had intended to desert him in this way. He preferred to think that the fellow had become helpless, and that Bummerton had dragged him into some other room. He knew that Joe used to get that way, years before, in Philadelphia. He had seen much of him during the wretched period of his life with Simon Craft.
Rhyming Joe gazed thoughtfully at the stove. Bummerton came and began to take away the dishes. "What's your bill, landlord?" inquired Joe. "D'ye want the bill for both of ye?" "Certainly. My young friend here, if I remember rightly, invited me to dine with him. I am his guest, and he foots the bills. See?"
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