ge is a good fellow," said Theron. "I wish he was a
professing member." Then some new thought struck him. "Alice," he
exclaimed, "I believe I'll go and see him this very afternoon. I don't
know why it hasn't occurred to me before: he's just the man whose advice
I need most. He knows these people here; he can tell me what to do."

"Aren't you too tired now?" suggested Alice, as Theron put on his hat.

"No, the sooner the better," he replied, moving now toward the gate.

"Well," she began, "if I were you, I wouldn't say too much about--that
is, I--but never mind."

"What is it?" asked her husband.

"Nothing whatever," replied Alice, positively. "It was only some
nonsense of mine;" and Theron, placidly accepting the feminine whim,
went off down the street again.

CHAPTER XII

The Rev. Mr. Ware found Levi Gorringe's law-office readily enough, but
its owner was not in. He probably would be back again, though, in a
quarter of an hour or so, the boy said, and the minister at once decided
to wait.

Theron was interested in finding that this office-boy was no other than
Harvey--the lad who brought milk to the parsonage every morning. He
remembered now that he had heard good things of this urchin, as to the
hard work he did to help his mother, the Widow Semple, in her struggle
to keep a roof over her head; and also bad things, in that he did
not come regularly either to church or Sunday-school. The clergyman
recalled, too, that Harvey had impressed him as a character.

"Well, sonny, are you going to be a lawyer?" he asked, as he seated
himself by the window, and looked about him, first at the dusty litter
of old papers, pamphlets, and tape-bound documents in bundles which
crowded the stuffy chamber, and then at the boy himself.

Harvey was busy at a big box--a rough pine dry-goods box which bore the
flaring label of an express company, and also of a well-known seed firm
in a Western city, and which the boy had apparently just opened. He was
lifting from it, and placing on the table after he had shaken off the
sawdust and moss in which they were packed, small parcels of what looked
in the fading light to be half-dried plants.

"Well, I don't know--I rather guess not," he made answer, as he pursued
his task. "So far as I can make out, this wouldn't be the place to start
in at, if I WAS going to be a lawyer. A boy can learn here first-rate
how to load cartridges and clean a gun, and braid trout-flies on to
leaders