mean to say a bunch like
that can drop out of a town like Millville without anyone knowing where
they've gone?"

"I'm not telling you. The facts speak for themselves," said Harry.

Both men were silent.

"Mike," said young Boland suddenly.

"Yes," responded Grogan.

"You were married?"

The Irishman was too surprised by the question to answer.

"I've heard you speak about your wife," Harry insisted.

Grogan still vouchsafed no answer. He stood staring at Boland.

"I've heard you speak of your wife, Norah," repeated Harry, "in a way
that made me feel how sacred her memory was to you. She married you, a
husky young Irish laborer in the mills, and how that little woman worked
for you, toiling, saving, scrimping, tending the babies as they came! How
you worshiped her, and big man as you were, how a word from her would
make you kneel at her feet. You held her in your arms when the little
mounds were raised in the church yard--"

Grogan listened in silence, deeply moved. He put out his hand and grasped
Harry's firmly.

"That's the way I love Patience Welcome, Mike," went on Harry, "just as
you loved Norah McGuire."

"Well," broke in Grogan huskily, "I didn't know--I--" He turned suddenly
and demanded, "Well then, why in hell don't you find her?"

"I'm going to try."

"And I'll help ye!"

"Good old Mike," said Harry, putting his arm around Grogan's shoulders,
"Aha, you can't beat the Irish!"

"Yes, you can," responded Grogan, "but they won't stay beaten."

The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Boland senior. He
hung up his hat, took off his gloves and rubbed his hands together.

"Ah," he said, "good morning Harry--Mike."

"Morning, Governor," returned Harry tersely. Grogan acknowledged the
salutation with a grunt.

"Have Miss Masters make out a lease for that house in South Twelfth
street," went on the elder Boland briskly. He laid some papers on the
table. "Here is the copy of the present lease with the necessary changes
noted."

"Who's the lessee?" inquired Harry carelessly.

"Carter Anson."

"What!" exclaimed Harry in amazement.

"Well, well, what's the matter?" demanded the father.

"Ask Mike," said the young man turning with a smile to Grogan.

"I refuse to answer any questions," declared Grogan. "'Tis a little rule
I learned in politics."

"Carter Anson is going to be indicted by the grand jury," Harry informed
his father.

"Ah," said John Boland, "you've been reading t