y stricken father.

As he entered the carriage the driver volunteered some information.

"That man sells rum himself, in his grocery over there across the
street, and he fought against the 'no license' petition like a wild
tiger last fall."

"Drive me home now, please," said Theodore aloud, in answer to this; and
to himself he said, as he sank wearily among the cushions: "Then I pray
God to have mercy on him, and not make his judgment heavier than he can
bear."

CHAPTER XX.

MRS. JENKINS' TOMMY.

There came a low tapping on the green baize door of Mr. Stephens'
private office. "Come," said Mr. Stephens from within, and a clerk
entered.

"Is Mr. Mallery in, sir? There is a queer looking personage in the store
who insists upon seeing him."

"Mallery," said Mr. Stephens, turning his head slightly, and addressing
an individual farther back behind a high desk, "are you engaged?"

"Nine seventy-two--one moment, Mr. Stephens--nine eighty-one, nine
ninety, one thousand. Now, sir, what is it?" and in a moment thereafter
Mr. Mallery emerged. The clerk repeated his statement.

"Very well," said Theodore, "I'll be out in one moment." He still held
the package of one thousand dollars which he had just counted in his
hand. "There is your money, Mr. Stephens," he said, laying it down as
the outer door closed on them.

"All right, is it?"

"All right."

"What have you done with the rest?"

"Locked it up."

"And the key?"

"In my pocket. Do you wish it, sir?"

"No," said Mr. Stephens, smiling. "Did you ever forget anything in your
life, Theodore? I did not think you had time to turn a key before you
came out."

"I turned it nevertheless," answered Theodore, significantly. "You know
I don't trust that young man, sir."

"Not yet?"

"No, sir."

"Well, I hope and trust that time will prove you wrong and me right."

"I hope so, certainly," answered Theodore, dryly.

"But you don't believe it." And Mr. Stephens laughed a little as he
added: "Now, Mallery, if you _should_ happen to be mistaken this time!"

Theodore answered him only by a grave smile as he went out of the room.
It was a busy spot outside--clerks and cash boys were flying hither and
thither, and customers were many and impatient. Making his way through
the crowd, bowing here and there to familiar faces, Theodore sought for
the person who awaited him.

"A queer looking personage," the clerk had said, and over by one of the
windows stood