-father, and was puzzled to understand how in the brief
interval since he last saw him he could have become so favored by
fortune, but his conjectures were interrupted by his arrival at the
office.

"TURNER!" repeated Martin to himself, observing the sign. "So this is
where my dootiful step-son is employed. Well, I'm glad to know it. It'll
come handy some day."

So saying, he lighted a fresh cigar, and sauntered away with the air of
a man of independent means, who had come down to Wall Street to look
after his investments.

CHAPTER XV.

THE TIN BOX.

"I met my dootiful son this mornin'," remarked Martin to his employer,
at their next interview.

"Did you?" said Smith, carelessly, for he felt little interest in
Martin's relations.

"Yes; he's in business in Wall Street."

"How's that?" asked Smith, his attention arrested by this statement.

"He's with Turner, the banker. He was going to the bank, with a tin box
under his arm. I'd like to have the money there was in it."

"Did he tell you there was money in it?"

"No; but I'll bet there was enough in it to make a poor man rich."

"Perhaps so," said Smith, thoughtfully.

"How old is your son?" he inquired, after a pause.

"Fifteen or sixteen, I've forgotten which. You see he isn't my own son;
I married his mother, who was a widder with two children; that's the way
of it."

"I suppose he doesn't live with you."

"No; he's an undootiful boy. He haint no gratitude for all I've done for
him. He wouldn't care if I starved in the street."

"That shows a bad disposition," said Smith, who seemed disposed to
protract the conversation for some purposes of his own.

"Yes," said Martin, wiping his eyes pathetically with a red
handkerchief; "he's an ungrateful young scamp. He's set my little
daughter Rose ag'inst me,--she that set everything by me till he made
her believe all sorts of lies about me."

"Why don't you come up with him?"

"I don't know how."

"I suppose you would have no objections if I should tell you."

"No," said Martin, hesitating; "that is, if it aint dangerous. If I
should give him a lickin' in the street, he'd call the police, and swear
I wasn't his father."

"That isn't what I mean. I'll think it over, and tell you by and by. Now
we'll talk about business."

It was not until the next day that Smith unfolded to Martin his plan of
"coming up with" Rufus. It was of so bold a character that Martin was
startled, and at first ref