"I was going to suggest that same. If you'll give it to me, Florence,
I'll get Mattie to tend my stand, and slip round wid it to Tim's right
off."

"I will go with you, Mrs. O'Keefe."

Mattie, who was playing around the corner, was summoned.

"Now, Mattie, just mind the stand, and don't be runnin' away, or them
boys will get away wid my whole mornin's profits. Do you hear?"

"Yes, mum."

"And don't you be eatin' all the while you are here. Here's one apple
you can have," and the apple-woman carefully picked out one that she
considered unsalable.

"That's specked, Mrs. O'Keefe," objected Mattie.

"And what if it is? Can't you bite out the specks? The rest of the
apple is good. You're gettin' mighty particular."

Mattie bit a piece out of the sound part of the apple, and, when Mrs.
O'Keefe was at a safe distance, gave the rest to a lame bootblack, and
picked out one of the best apples for her own eating.

"Bridget O'Keefe is awful mane wid her apples!" soliloquized Mattie,
"but I'm too smart for her. Tryin' to pass off one of her old specked
apples on me! If I don't take three good one I'm a sinner."

Arrived at the front of the saloon, Mrs. O'Keefe penetrated the
interior, and met Tim near the door.

"Have you come in for some whiskey, old lady?" asked Tim, in a jesting
tone.

"I'll take that by and by. Florence is outside, and we've got some
news for you."

"Won't she come in?"

"No; she don't like to be seen in a place like this. She's got a
letter from Dodger."

"You don't mean it!" ejaculated Tim, with sudden interest. "Where is
he?"

"Come out and see."

"Good afternoon, Miss Linden," said Tim, gallantly. "So you've news
from Dodger?"

"Yes; here is the letter."

Bolton read it through attentively.

"Curtis is smart," he said, as he handed it back. "He couldn't have
thought of a better plan for getting rid of the boy. It will take
several months for him to reach 'Frisco, and after that he can't get
back, for he won't have any money."

"Dodger says he will try to save money enough to pay his way back."

"It will take him a good while."

"It doesn't take long to come back by cars, does it?"

"No; but it costs a great deal of money. Why, it may take Dodger a
year to earn enough to pay his way back on the railroad."

"A year!" exclaimed Florence, in genuine dismay--"a year, in addition
to the time it takes to go out there! Where will we all be at the end
of that time?"

"Not in j