"You look a little peaked round the gills, Still Jim. Better cut this
work you're doing and come to me office. I can't pay you so much but
I'll make a lawyer of you."

Jim shook his head. "The work is good for me. The gym teacher said I was
growing too fast and to stay outdoors all summer."

"What's the matter with you, then?" insisted Dennis.

"I saw three men killed just before quitting time," said the boy. Then
suddenly his face flushed. "Sometimes I hate it here in New York. Seems
as if I can't stand it. They don't care anything about human beings. I
can't think of New York as anything but a can full of angle worms, all
of them crawling over each other to get to the top."

"Sit down, me boy," said Dennis. "If little Mike had lived, he'd have
been just your age, Still Jim. I don't like to think of you as having so
little of a boy's life. Jim, take the summer off and I'll take you to
the seashore."

Jim smiled a little uncertainly. "I can't leave mama, and the money I'll
get this summer will buy my clothes for a year and something for me to
put in the bank. I'm all right. It's just that since--since you know I
saw Dad----" and to his utter shame Jim began to sob. He dropped his
head on his arm and Dennis' florid face became more deeply red as he
looked at the long thin body and the beautiful brown head shaken by
sobs.

"Good God, Jimmy, don't!" he exclaimed. "Why, you're all shot to pieces,
lad. Hold on now, I'll tell you a funny story. No, I won't either. I'll
tell you something to take up your mind. Still, do you think your mother
would marry me?"

This had the desired effect. Jim jumped to his feet, forgetting even to
wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"She certainly would not!" he cried. "I wouldn't let her. Has she said
she would?"

"I haven't asked her," replied Mr. Dennis meekly. "I wanted to talk to
you about it first. Much as I think of her, Jim, I wouldn't marry her if
you objected. You've been through too much for a kid."

Jim eyed Mr. Dennis intently. The Irishman was a pleasant,
intelligent-looking man.

"I like you now," said the boy, his voice catching from his heavy
sobbing, "but I'd hate you if you tried to take my father's place.
Anyway, I don't think mama would even listen to you. What makes you want
to get married again, Mr. Dennis, after--after that?"

Jim looked toward the crayon enlargement above the mantel.

Dennis answered quickly. "Don't think for a minute I'd try to put anyon