I know,--he interested me. Where does he live?"
But to this question no clear answer could be given. Down in one of the
alleys towards the South End; but just which alley, or how far down it,
Alfred did not know. He knew it was a disreputable alley, and that there
wasn't a decent home anywhere about it, and that was all.
"What does Dirk do for a living?"
This question was quite as difficult to answer as the other. Nothing,
young Ried believed; at least nothing regular; odd jobs he doubtless
picked up occasionally, but as for regular employment, Alfred was sure
he had none.
"Is that his fault? I mean, doesn't he desire work, and make an effort
to secure it?"
But this young Ried could not even pretend to answer. Work, for such as
he, was scarce; boys with better habits, brought up to be industrious,
were at this present time out of work. Possibly the fellow was not to
blame for being an idler.
Many other questions were asked, and many attempts were made at answers;
but when the shoppers began to press in, to such a degree that their
conversation was broken, and the energetic seeker after information felt
herself obliged to retire, one thing had been accomplished: Alfred Ried
had been made to realize that he knew much less than he had supposed he
did about the seven boys who had seemed to be filling his thoughts for
several weeks; and also, in his eager, passionate desire that everything
should be done for all of them, he had overlooked the chances for doing
here and there some little thing for one of them.
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