hat his eye had the red film
of the drunkard. When I asked him for Quirk, the schoolmaster,
who used to live thereabout he gave a mirthless chuckle.

"My name's Quirk," said he; "but it's fifteen years since I taught
school. How did you come to know of me?"

Could this be Quirk--this aged and decrepit old man! Somewhere
beneath that mat of hair and beard, did there remain traces of
those good-natured lineaments that were wont to set the boys in a
roar? I scanned his face closely. The man was a stranger to my
recollection.

"Do you remember me, Mr. Quirk?" I asked.

He peered out at me under his bushy brows and slowly removed his
pipe.

"Not to my knowledge," he answered. "What might be your name?"

"Quibble," I returned--"Artemas Quibble."

"Artemas Quibble!" he exclaimed in a faltering voice and feebly
crawled over to the buggy.

I climbed down to meet him and extended my hand.

"What has happened to you?" he stammered. "I thought you were a
great lawyer in New York."

"I'm in a peck of trouble," I answered. "I need all the friends
I've got. I hope you're still one of them?"

"Well, well!" he muttered. "And to think that you're Artie Quibble!
And who may this be?" pointing to Hawkins.

"I'll tell you all," said I, "later on. For the present, he's a
friend of mine who's travelling with me--more on business than on
pleasure."

Quirk's story was soon told. As I already expected, drink had
become his master. The school had fallen away, his wife had died,
and in a fit of despondency he had--he said accidentally, but I
believe intentionally--overturned a lamp and set fire to the house.
Now he lodged in a small hotel farther down the road, living from
hand to mouth, and doing a day's work here and there when chance
offered. I gave him fifty dollars and bade him good-bye, for he
had no accommodations to offer us even had I been able to induce
Hawkins to remain there. Thus I realized that the only refuge I
ever had from the outside world, the only real home I had ever
known, was gone. I had nowhere to go, nowhere to deposit my evil
load.

We drove on for a space, and now Hawkins awoke and began to clamor
for food. Where was I taking him? he demanded to know. And why
was I togged out like a bricklayer? He announced that he had had
enough of this kind of travelling and insisted on going to a hotel
and having a decent meal. I tried to reason with him and explained
that it was only for a day