an older daughter, sure.
The older daughter was main pretty. Sure I remember them, but they ain't
here no more. They left a week ago. I had to ask them for their room.
As it was, they owed a week's room-rent. Mister, I can't afford----"

"Well, do you know where they went? Did you hear what address they had
their trunk expressed to?"

"Ah, yes, their trunk," vociferated the woman, clapping her hands to her
hips, her face purpling. "Their trunk, ah, sure. I got their trunk, and
what are you going to do about it? I'm holding it till I get my money.
What have you got to say about it? Let's hear it."

Presley turned away with a gesture of discouragement, his heart sinking.
On the street corner he stood for a long time, frowning in trouble and
perplexity. His suspicions had been only too well founded. So long ago
as a week, the Hoovens had exhausted all their little store of money.
For seven days now they had been without resources, unless, indeed, work
had been found; "and what," he asked himself, "what work in God's name
could they find to do here in the city?"

Seven days! He quailed at the thought of it. Seven days without money,
knowing not a soul in all that swarming city. Ignorant of city life as
both Minna and her mother were, would they even realise that there were
institutions built and generously endowed for just such as they? He
knew them to have their share of pride, the dogged sullen pride of the
peasant; even if they knew of charitable organisations, would they,
could they bring themselves to apply there? A poignant anxiety thrust
itself sharply into Presley's heart. Where were they now? Where had they
slept last night? Where breakfasted this morning? Had there even been
any breakfast this morning? Had there even been any bed last night?
Lost, and forgotten in the plexus of the city's life, what had befallen
them? Towards what fate was the ebb tide of the streets drifting them?

Was this to be still another theme wrought out by iron hands upon the
old, the world-old, world-wide keynote? How far were the consequences
of that dreadful day's work at the irrigating ditch to reach? To what
length was the tentacle of the monster to extend?

Presley returned toward the central, the business quarter of the city,
alternately formulating and dismissing from his mind plan after plan
for the finding and aiding of Mrs. Hooven and her daughters. He reached
Montgomery Street, and turned toward his club, his imagination