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mother in sight And then, about to
return to the house, 'she became in
terested in watching a man with a
cane who limping came out of a near
"We've enough or our own to
feed," its owner was shouting rough
ly, '(without wasting good victuals
on tramps and loafers."
The mendicant came down the
street until he reached a horse block.
Arline regarded him pityingly. He
v was thin, pale and convulsed with a
racking cough. He bowed his head
dejectedly. Arline stole np to his
side.' She placed a gentle hand upon
his arm. N
"Are you hungry, mister?" she
" He looked up in a surprised yet
hopeless way. The pure, innocent
face of the child abashed him.
"Go away!" he said in a choking
voice. "I don't deserve anything. I
"am a bad man." , '
s "You,'re a poor man, I guess," in-
sisted Arline. "And you look hun
gry. And I've just got supper ready.
I earned it all myself," proudly de
claimed Arline. "There's pie and hanr
a"nd coffee and doughnuts and it's all
mine to give and you're welcome.
Come into -the house and see, won't
The hard, bitter face of the strang
er softened. Arline had ljold of his
hand now and,insisted on gently but
resolutely bringing him along.
"There!" she cried triumphantly,
as she led her guest into the kitchen.
".What do you think of that?"
The stranger sank tova chair from
sheer exhaustion, it seemed. He lis
tened to the gay babble of .the child,
sounding like joy bells in his willing
ears, but soul famishing for kind
words and charity. She poured out
a steaming cup of coffee, she cut the
pie and loaded his plate and her
guest devoured the repast with the
ardor and zest of a man truly hun
gry Arline ran out ta the shed to
get some wood. When she returned
he man. sat took in his chaiffhis
I eyes closed, his body relaxed and JM
"Poor man!" whispered Arline to
herself. "I suppose he's just about
all done out Sh-sh!" she spoke sud
denly, gliding to the door, finger
warningly on lip, as her mother ap
peared. "Why, Arline! what is all this?"
asked her amazed mother, "and who
is this stranger?"
Arline recited her story. The
mother's eyes dwelt fondly' upon her
as she recognized the generous in
stinct of humanity in that gentle
souL Arline, went up td her guest
and pulled his sleeve. He did not re
spond. Then Mrs, Ross, gazing more
closely, looked grave and alarmed.
"He is unconscious," she uttered.
"He looks ill." She felt his hands.
They were very cold! "Arline, run
next, door for Dr. Prescott There is
sometihng the matter with this
There was, indeed. When he came
the doctor looked grave and puzzled.
They carried the man into the next
room and placed him on the bed.
"He is very ill," announced the
"doctor. "His vitality is low and he
seems to have a chronic affection of
the heart I do not tnink he canlive.
You can scarcely afford to care for a
stranger, Mrs. Ross, but it would be
unmerciful to turn him adrift I will .
see that you are repaid for the ex
pense he may be to you."
"Oh, he is welcome to all we can
do Jfor him," declared warm-hearted '
The invalid ralHed a few hours
later. Slowly he recognized his sur
roundings and the incidents leading
up to his present environment He
held little Arline's hand, his eyes full
of tears. Her tried to express his fer
vent gratitude to her mother,
"And I am so- undeserving," he
said, and then he started and stared
fixedly at a framed portrait of Edgar
Ross hanging on the wall. "Who
who is that?" he askedL almost