-a man gone off sick. But I can't give more 'n
twenty-two, or say twenty-three, seeing you're an old neighbor. What
do you say?"

Peter still said nothing; he was choking.

"You had better have a bit of something more than bacon and flour,
Peter," he went on, "and I'll give you a hand to carry the truck
home. I guess your wife won't mind seeing me with you; then she'll
know that you've taken a job with me again, you see. Come along and
give me a hand to hitch the mare up. I'll drive you down."

"Ah--ah--Boss--Boss!" spoke Peter then, with terrible gasps between.
"Boss--O my God, Mr. Pontiac--I can't never look you in the face
again!"

"Peter McGrath--old neighbor,"--and John Pontiac laid his hand on the
shaking shoulder,--"I guess I know all about it; I guess I do.
Sometimes a man is driven he don't know how. Now we will say no more
about it. I'll load up, and you come right along with me. And mind,
I'll do the talking to your wife."

* * * * *

Mary Ann McGrath was in a terrible frame of mind. What had become of
Peter?

She had gone out to look down the road, and had been recalled by
Number Eleven's crying. Number Ten then chimed in; Nine, too, awoke,
and determined to resume his privileges as an infant. One after
another they got up and huddled around her--craving, craving--all but
the three eldest, who had been well practised in the stoical
philosophy by the gradual decrease of their rations. But these bounced
up suddenly at the sound of a grand jangle of bells.

Could it be? Mr. Pontiac they had no doubt about; but was that real
bacon that he laid on the kitchen table? Then a side of beef, a can of
tea; next a bag of flour, and again an actual keg of sirup. Why, this
was almost incredible! And, last, he came in with an immense round
loaf of bread! The children gathered about it; old John almost
sickened with sorrow for them, and hurrying out his jacknife, passed
big hunks around.

"Well, now, Mrs. McGrath," he said during these operations, "I don't
hardly take it kindly of you and Peter not to have come up to an old
neighbor's house before this for a bit of a loan. It's well I met
Peter to-night. Maybe he'd never have told me your troubles--not but
what I blame myself for not suspecting how it was a bit sooner. I just
made him take a little loan for the present. No, no; don't be talking
like that! Charity! tut! tut! it's just an advance of wages. I've got
a job for Peter;