hat of leading a harmless boy astray." Again he paused, as if his
troubled conscience overpowered him, and then with a renewed effort that
heavily taxed his fast ebbing vitality, he added, "Joe, for the love you
bear for your mother, of whom you have spoken so often, swear now,
before the Almighty, that you will from this moment forward shun the
three evils which have brought me to this, and which are 'Bums, Booze
and Boxcars', and that you will not further associate with the criminals
at the flat, for if you return to them, on account of this night's work
you will be forever one of their number." And there in the solitude of
the night, kneeling beside his dying companion, with his arms uplifted
towards the starry firmament, Joe solemnly swore that he would beware of
"Bums, Booze and Boxcars", and quit the very people whose acquaintance
he had made through Slippery.

[Illustration: And there in the solitude of the night, kneeling beside
his dying companion, Joe solemnly swore to forever forsake the "Road."]

For a moment all was silence, which was interrupted only by the gurgling
of the blood as it welled up into the mortally wounded yegg's throat,
then came the pitifully human appeal from the lips of the dying man,
"Joe, where are you, Joe? Do not leave me alone, Joe, now that all have
left me and everything is so dark before my eyes." Then after a brief
pause he painfully stammered, "Joe, find your brother Jim, then both of
you go back to your mother and be once more her boys." He again became
silent and then, now that it was too late, he plainly showed, that
although he was a despised yegg, there was one place in this wide world
where there would be one true friend waiting in vain for his return, for
he slowly added, "Joe, believe me, there is no friend like mother and no
place like home."

Then came another hemorrhage and a stream of his life blood shot into
the air and then, with a last effort, he drew Joe's hands to his
parched, suffering lips, and while he covered them with kisses, the
rattling in his throat increased, then decreased, and finally
stopped--he had expired.

When Boston Frank returned with the water, he only found his dead pal,
as Joe, horror stricken by the dead man's glassy stare, by the blood
covered corpse, by the quietude of the night and all the horrors which
had transpired, had fled into the night as if furies and demons were
pursuing him, bent only upon placing as much space as possible b