er regular monthly wages. This she regarded as base
ingratitude. If it were at all possible for grief to find ineradicable
lodgment in her envious, unenlightened, malicious soul, Daniel's offer
of so much per month made it so.

She ran into the kitchen, and hurled knives and forks in the sink. She
went to old Jordan's room, knocked on his door, and made him open it;
then she told him with all the anger at her resourceful command that
Daniel was going away. "There is hardly a cent in the house, and he's
going on a jamboree!" she exclaimed. "There is some damned wench back
of this. Go tell him, Herr Inspector, go tell him what a dirty thing it
is he's doing--going away and leaving his child and his old father in
the lurch. Do it, Herr Inspector, and you'll get potato dumplings,
ginger-bread, and sauce for dinner next Sunday."

Jordan looked at Philippina timidly. His mouth watered for the food she
had promised him; for she was holding him down to a near-starvation
diet. He was often so hungry that he would sneak into the delicatessen
shop, and buy himself ten pfennigs' worth of real food.

"I will make inquiry as to the reason for his going," murmured Jordan,
"but I hardly believe that I will be able to move him one way or the
other."

"Well, you go out and take a little walk; git a bit of fresh air,"
commanded Philippina; "I've got to straighten up your room. Your windows
need washing; you can't see through 'em for dirt."

Late that evening Daniel came up to say good-bye to Jordan.

"Where are you going?" asked the old man.

"I want to see a little of the German Empire," replied Daniel. "I have
some business to attend to up in the North, in the cities and also out
in the country."

"Good luck to you," said Jordan, much oppressed, "good luck to you, my
dear son. How long are you going to be gone?"

"Oh, I don't know yet; possibly for years."

"For years?" asked Jordan. He looked at the floor; he tried to keep his
eyes on the floor under his feet: "Then I suppose we might as well say
good-bye forever."

Daniel shook his head. "It makes no difference when I return, I will
find you here," he said with a note of strange assurance in his voice.
"When fate has treated a man too harshly, there seems to come a time
when it no longer bothers him; it evades him, in fact. It seems to me
that this is the case with you: you are quite fateless."

Jordan made no reply. He opened his eyes as if in fear, and sighed.

The n