said, as if forgetting for a moment that the officer was
present, "did you know that Clara and Bess and Will were in the
accident last night?"

George turned pale, and tremblingly replied, "No, father. Were they
hurt? Was Bess--" The boy seemed moved as his father had not yet seen
him.

"No; they were not; that is, Bess was not hurt at all. But Will was
severely bruised, and Clara still lies in a state of stupor or
unconsciousness, and we do not know what the end will be. I was on my
way just now to get some needed articles from the doctor's house. You
must come back with me; the law has no hold on you."

"Maybe, the law hasn't any hold on him, but Michael Finnerty has. I
don't just like the idea, mister, of letting the boy go," replied the
stubborn and unusually dutiful officer.

Mr. Hardy began to appeal to the man's love of his own children. It
did not seem to move him in the least, until he mentioned the fact that
it was cruelty to keep the suffering girl at home waiting for her
father's return.

Mr. Finnerty finally loosened his hold on George and said slowly and
painfully, "An' if I lose me job I'll be knowin' who was to blame for
it. I always told Michael Finnerty that he was too soft-hearted to go
on the force!"

"You won't suffer, officer. Many thanks! Come, George."

Father and son moved off together, while the defender of the law stood
irresolute, watching them disappear through the storm, and muttering to
himself, "I'm a soft-hearted fool. I ought to 'a' been born a female
hospital nurse, I had."

During that walk home, after Mr. Hardy had gone around by the doctor's
with George, not a word was exchanged. The storm was increasing. The
two walked along in silence; but when George walked into the hall at
home he turned and saw a look on his father's face that smote him to
the heart, for he was not yet a hardened soul. Mr. Hardy had lived
years in that experience. No one could tell how he had been tortured
by what he had endured that night; but the mark of it was stamped
indelibly on his face, and he knew that he would bear it to his grave.

Mrs. Hardy came running downstairs as the two came in. When George
turned and faced her she held out her arms crying, "My boy! my boy! We
have been so anxious about you!"

What! not one word of reproach, of rebuke, of question as to what he
had been doing all this time that the family had been suffering! No;
not one word. Ah, mother love! I