come out and make your
acquaintance. You have quite a family."

"Yes," said the father, who was conscious of his very poor garments
and anxious to get away. "I have six children--all young. She's
the oldest girl."

Mrs. Gerhardt now came back, and Gerhardt, seeing his chance, said
hurriedly:

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'll go. I broke my saw, and so I had
to stop work."

"Certainly," said Brander, graciously, realizing now why Jennie had
never wanted to explain. He half wished that she were courageous
enough not to conceal anything.

"Well, Mrs. Gerhardt," he said, when the mother was stiffly seated,
"I want to tell you that you mustn't look on me as a stranger.
Hereafter I want you to keep me informed of how things are going with
you. Jennie won't always do it."

Jennie smiled quietly. Mrs. Gerhardt only rubbed her hands.

"Yes," she answered, humbly grateful.

They talked for a few minutes, and then the Senator rose.

"Tell your husband," he said, "to come and see me next Monday at my
office in the hotel. I want to do something for him."

"Thank you," faltered Mrs. Gerhardt.

"I'll not stay any longer now," he added. "Don't forget to have him
come."

"Oh, he'll come," she returned.

Adjusting a glove on one hand, he extended the other to Jennie.

"Here is your finest treasure, Mrs. Gerhardt," he said. "I think
I'll take her."

"Well, I don't know," said her mother, "whether I could spare her
or not."

"Well," said the Senator, going toward the door, and giving Mrs.
Gerhardt his hand, "good-morning."

He nodded and walked out, while a half-dozen neighbors, who had
observed his entrance, peeked from behind curtains and drawn blinds at
the astonishing sight.

"Who can that be, anyhow?" was the general query.

"See what he gave me," said the innocent mother to her daughter the
moment he had closed the door.

It was a ten-dollar bill. He had placed it softly in her hand as he
said good-by.

CHAPTER V

Having been led by circumstances into an attitude of obligation
toward the Senator, it was not unnatural that Jennie should become
imbued with a most generous spirit of appreciation for everything he
had done and now continued to do. The Senator gave her father a letter
to a local mill owner, who saw that he received something to do. It
was not much, to be sure, a mere job as night-watchman, but it helped,
and old Gerhardt's gratitude was extravagant. Never was there such a
great, s