, though, not to tell his mother. I wonder who the
dear old saint will take up for her 'most special subject' now? Jim and
Rick both gathered in. It will be Winny with twofold earnestness now, I
presume. Oh, the mansions are filling up, and I thank God that he is
letting me help to fill them. But who will I take now?"

"Le me lone," interrupted one of the poor drunkards, giving his
companion a vigorous push, "I can walk without your help, I guess; pity
if I couldn't!"

"Suppose," continued Theodore to his inner self; "suppose I should take
that poor fellow who is leaning against the post? God's mercy is great
enough for him. I want somebody to bring as a thank-offering for Jim and
Rick--yes, and for Mr. Ryan, too. I believe I'll choose him. I'll find
out who he is, and follow him up, with the Lord's help, until he chooses
one of the many mansions for himself. How shall I go to work to discover
who he is and where he belongs? I really doubt his knowledge of either
subject just at present."

Then the man embracing the post spoke for the first time.

"What you s'pose ails this confounded lamp-post? Won't stand still;
whirls round like a wind-mill or a church-steeple, or suthin. B'lieve
it's drunk, sure's you live."

Something in the manner, in the tones, thick and foolish and unnatural
though they were, brought Theodore to a full stop before the poor
fellow, and caused him to look eagerly in the upturned face, while the
blood surged violently through his veins.

"Drunk!" returned the less intoxicated companion, contemptuously.
"You're drunk yourself, that's what's the matter. You better come on now
and let that lamp-post stay where it is. I ain't going to drag you both
home, I reckon."

Meantime Theodore laid a firm steady hand on the arm of the drunken man,
and spoke in a low quiet tone, "Pliny," for he had too surely
recognized the voice, and knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that the
"poor wretch" in question was Pliny Hastings, and that his drunken
companion was the old friend of his boyhood, Ben. Phillips. So these
three, whose lives had commenced on the same day of time, had crossed
each other's paths once more. With very little effort he persuaded the
poor bewildered fellow to desert his whirling post, and a carriage
returning empty from the midnight train came at his call, and the three
were promptly seated therein, and the order given by Theodore,
No.--Euclid Avenue. A strange ride it was for him. His