t as he didn't mean it, I have no occasion to feel grateful."

Dodger found that he could live for eight dollars a week, and he began
to lay by seven dollars a week with the view of securing funds
sufficient to take him back to New York.

He was in no hurry to leave San Francisco, but he felt that Florence
might need a friend. But he found that he was making progress slowly.

At that time the price of a first-class ticket to New York was one
hundred and twenty-eight dollars, besides the expense of sleeping
berths, amounting then, as now, to twenty-two dollars extra. So it
looked as if Dodger would be compelled to wait at least six months
before he should be in a position to set out on the return journey.

About this time Dodger received a letter from Florence, in which she
spoke of her discharge by Mrs. Leighton.

"I shall try to obtain another position as teacher," she said,
concealing her anxiety. "I am sure, in a large city, I can find
something to do."

But Dodger knew better than she the difficulties that beset the path
of an applicant for work, and he could not help feeling anxious for
Florence.

"If I were only in New York," he said to himself, "I would see that
Florence didn't suffer. I will write her to let me know if she is in
need, and I will send her some money."

About this time he met with an adventure which deserves to be noted.

It was about seven o'clock one evening that he found himself in
Mission Street.

At a street corner his attention was drawn to a woman poorly dressed,
who held by the hand a child of three.

Her clothing was shabby, and her attitude was one of despondency. It
was clear that she was ill and in trouble.

Dodger possessed quick sympathies, and his own experience made him
quick to understand and feel for the troubles of others.

Though the woman made no appeal, he felt instinctively that she needed
help.

"I beg your pardon," he said, with as much deference as if he were
addressing one favored by fortune, "but you seem to be in need of
help?"

"God knows, I am!" said the woman, sadly.

"Perhaps I can be of service to you. Will you tell me how?"

"Neither I nor my child has tasted food since yesterday."

"Well, that can be easily remedied," said Dodger, cheerfully. "There
is a restaurant close by. I was about to eat supper. Will you come in
with me?"

"I am ashamed to impose upon the kindness of a stranger," murmured the
woman.

"Don't mention it. I shall be