y for a
night's lodging."

"Why don't you go to work?" said the gentleman.

"I can't get anything to do, sir. I've been trying for something all
day."

The fact was that Mr. Martin had been lounging about a low bar-room all
day.

"Here, take this, and clear the way."

The gentleman, more to get rid of him than anything else, dropped five
cents into his hand, and passed on.

"He might have given a quarter," grumbled Martin; "it wouldn't have hurt
him."

He looked up, intending to make a similar application to the next
person, when he uttered an exclamation of surprise and exultation. Close
before him he saw Rufus and his little sister, accompanied by Miss
Manning.

CHAPTER XI.

MR. MARTIN'S WILD-GOOSE CHASE.

Probably nothing could have given Martin greater pleasure than this
unexpected meeting with his step-children. He did not reflect that the
pleasure might not be mutual, but determined to make himself known
without delay. Hurrying forward, he placed one hand on the shoulder of
Rufus, saying, "Glad to see you, Rufus; what have you been up to lately?
Here's Rose too, I expect she's glad to see me."

At the first sound of his voice poor Rose began to tremble. Clinging
closer to her brother, she said, "Don't let him take me, Rufie."

"He shan't touch you, Rose," said Rufus, manfully.

"You don't seem very glad to see me," said Martin, smiling maliciously.

"That's where you're right," said Rufus, bluntly. "We are not glad to
see you. I suppose that don't surprise you much. Come along, Rose."

He tried to leave Martin, but Martin did not choose to be left. He
shuffled along by the side of our hero, considerably to the disgust of
the latter, who was afraid he might fall in with some acquaintance whose
attention would be drawn to the not very respectable-looking object who
had accosted him, and learn the relationship that existed between them.

"You seem to be in a hurry," sneered Martin.

"I am in a hurry," said Rufus. "It's late for Rose to be out."

"That's what I was thinking," said Martin. "Considerin' that I'm her
natural protector, it's my duty to interfere."

"A pretty sort of protector you are!" retorted Rufus, scornfully.

"You're an undootiful boy," said Martin, "to speak so to your father."

"Who do you mean?"

"Aint I your father?"

"No, you are not. If you were, I'd be ashamed of you. Mr. Martin, we
haven't anything to do with each other. You can go your way, and I'll
go