the matter wid Bridget O'Keefe?" asked the
apple-woman.

"Excuse me, Mrs. O'Keefe. I know very well you are my friend, and a
kind friend, too. I should not have forgotten you."

"It's all right, Florence. You're flustrated like, and that's why you
forget me."

"I have so few friends that I can't spare one," continued Florence.

"That's so. Come along wid me, and we'll see what Tim has to tell us."

A short walk brought the two strangely assorted companions to the
entrance of Tim Bolton's saloon. "I'm afraid to go in, Mrs. O'Keefe,"
said Florence.

"Come along wid me, my dear, I won't let anything harm you. You ain't
used to such a place, but I've been here more than once to fill the
growler. Be careful as you go down the steps, Florence."

Tim Bolton was standing behind the bar, and as he heard steps he
looked carelessly toward the entrance, but when he saw Florence, his
indifference vanished. He came from behind the bar, and advanced to
meet her.

"Miss Linden," he said.

Florence shrank back and clung to her companion's arm.

"Is there anything I can do for you? I am a rough man, but I'm not so
bad as you may think."

"That's what I told her, Tim," said Mrs. O'Keefe. "I told Florence
there was worse men than you."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Keefe. Can I offer you a glass of whiskey?"

The apple-woman was about to accept, but she felt an alarmed tug at
her arm, and saw that Florence would be placed in an embarrassing
position if she accepted. So, by an exercise of self-denial--for Mrs.
O'Keefe was by no means insensible to the attractions of whiskey,
though she never drank to excess--she said:

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Bolton. I won't take any just now; but I'll
remind you of your offer another day."

"Have it your own way, Mrs. O'Keefe. And now, what can I do for you
and Miss Linden?"

"Oh, Mr. Bolton," broke in Florence, unable to bear the suspense
longer, "where is Dodger?"

Chapter XXV.
Finding The Clew.

Tim Bolton looked at Florence in undisguised astonishment.

"Dodger!" he repeated. "How should I know? I supposed that you had
lured him away from me."

"He didn't like the business you were in. He preferred to make a
living in some other way."

"Then why do you ask me where he is?"

"Because he did not come home last night. Shure he rooms at my house,"
put in Mrs. O'Keefe, "and he hasn't showed up since----"

"And you thought I might have got hold of him?" said Bolton,
inquiringly.