e heroism of a young district
attorney with the motionless eager credulity of the simple-hearted.

As soon as they had installed themselves, Father edged shyly into his
old haunt, the shoe-store of Pilkings & Son.

He found Son brusquely directing the cleaning out of an old stock of
hunting-boots which Pilkings, _pere_, had always believed would sell.

Pilkings, _fils_, was bald, and narrow between the eyes. He looked at
Father and nodded as though it hurt him.

"I-- Is your father around, Mr. Edward?" Father inquired. "I didn't hear
from you again--been waiting--thought maybe I'd get a letter--I hope he
has recovered--I know how bad the grippe--"

While he was talking he realized that Edward Pilkings was in mourning.

Young Pilkings looked shallowly grieved and muttered, "The old gentleman
passed beyond, a week ago Thursday."

"Oh, Mr. Edward, I can't tell you-- It's a blow to me, a very great
blow. I was with your father for so many, many years."

"Yes--uh-- Yes."

"Is there-- I wonder if I couldn't send a letter or some flowers or
something to your mother?"

"Why, yes, I guess there's nothing to prevent.... Boy, you be careful of
those boxes! What the deuce do you think you're trying to do? There,
that's a little better. Try to show some sense about your work, even if
you ain't got any." Edward Pilkings's voice crackled like wood in a
fireplace.

Desperately Father tried again. "Fact is, Mr. Edward, I've given up my
tea-room on Cape Cod. Didn't go so very well. I guess my forty, like the
fellow says, is sticking to selling shoes. Mrs. Appleby and I have just
got back to town and got settled down and-- Fact is, I'd be glad to go
back to work."

His hesitant manner invited refusal. It was evident that Mr. Edward
Pilkings was not interested.

Shyly Father added, "You know your father promised to keep a place open
for me."

"Well, now, I'll tell you, Appleby; it ain't that you aren't a good
salesman, but just _now_ I'm--well, kind of reorganizing the business. I
sort of feel the establishment ought to have a little more pep in it,
and so-- You see-- But you leave your address and as soon as anything
turns up I'll be mighty glad to let you know."

For years Father had pityingly heard applicants for jobs disposed of
with the request to "leave their addresses."

"No," he said; "no, maybe I'll come in and see you again some day. Good
day. Good luck to you, Mr. Edward."

He greeted his old acquaintances