ou can catch up. Make us
proud of you; that's what you can do."

His nephew glanced at him. Captain Elisha was smiling kindly, but there
was no sign of change of purpose in his look.

Stephen ground his teeth.

"Oh," he snarled, "if it wasn't for the disgrace! If things weren't as
they are, I'd--"

"S-s-s-h! I know; but they are. Maybe I wish they wa'n't 'most as much
as you do, but they are. I don't blame you for feelin' mad now; but I'm
right and I know it. And some day you'll know it, and thank me."

"When I do, I'll be insane."

"No, you'll be older, that's all. Now pack your trunk--or get the
Commodore to pack it for you."

* * * * *

News from the Moriarty sick room continued favorable for a time. Then,
with alarming suddenness, a change came. The broken hip was mending
slowly, but poor Pat's age was against him, and the shock and long
illness were too much for his system to fight. Dr. Henry shook his
head dubiously when the captain asked questions. And, one morning at
breakfast, Edwards informed him that the old man was dead. Annie had
been summoned by telephone at midnight and had gone home.

Captain Elisha, though not greatly surprised, was shocked and grieved.
It seemed such a needless tragedy, almost like murder, although there
was no malice in it. And the thought of the fatherless children and the
poverty of the stricken family made him shudder. Death at any time, amid
any surroundings, is terrible; when the dead hands have earned the bread
for many mouths it is appalling.

The captain dreaded visiting the flat, but because he felt it to be a
duty he went immediately. And the misery and wailing and dismay he found
there were worse than his anticipations. He did his best to comfort and
cheer. Mrs. Moriarty alternately called upon the saints to bless him and
begged to know what she would do now that they were all sure to starve.
Luckily, the family priest, a kind-hearted, quiet man who faced similar
scenes almost every day of his life, was there, and Captain Elisha had a
long talk with him. With Dennis, the oldest son, and Annie, the maid
at the Warrens', he also consulted. Money for their immediate needs,
he told them, he would provide. And the funeral expenses must not
worry them. Afterward--well, plans for the future could be discussed at
another time. But upon Dennis and Annie he tried to impress a sense of
their responsibility.

"It's up to you, Boy," he said t