imself, had moved off somewhere to modest
quarters in a side street. That was the last Tim heard of his old
patron, till the papers printed the staggering news of his arrest. A few
weeks later, Tim one day received a message bidding him come to see his
former master in the Tombs.

The disgraced capitalist's trial was then in its early stages, but he
entertained not the smallest hope of acquittal. Broken and embittered,
he confided to his faithful servant that, soon after the break-up of
his establishment, he had quietly married a wife; that some weeks
earlier she had presented him with a son; and that she now lay at the
point of death with but remote chances of recovery. To supply her with
money was impossible, for his creditors, he said, had not only swooped
down like buzzards upon the remnant of his fortune, but were now
watching his every move under the suspicion that he had managed to keep
something back. All his friends had deserted him as though he were a
leper, for his had been the unpardonable sin of being found out. In all
the world there was no equal of whom he was not too proud to ask a
favor.

In short, he was about to depart for a long sojourn in prison, leaving
behind a motherless, friendless, and penniless infant son. Would Tim
take him and raise him as his own?

While Tim hesitated over this amazing request, Surface leaned forward
and whispered a few words in his ear. He _had_ contrived to secrete a
little sum of money, a very small sum, but one which, well invested as
it was, would provide just enough for the boy's keep. Tim was to receive
twenty-five dollars monthly for his trouble and expense; Surface pledged
his honor as a gentleman that he would find a way to smuggle this sum to
him on the first of every month. Tim, being in straits at the time,
accepted with alacrity. No, he could not say that Mr. Surface had
exhibited any sorrow over the impending decease of his wife, or any
affectionate interest in his son. In fact the ruined man seemed to
regard the arrival of the little stranger--"the brat," as he called
him--with peculiar exasperation. Tim gathered that he never expected or
desired to see his son, whatever the future held, and that, having
arranged for food and shelter, he meant to wash his hands of the whole
transaction. The honest guardian's sole instructions were to keep mum as
the grave; to provide the necessaries of life as long as the boy was
dependent upon him; not to interfere with