ess, and yet there was something
familiar in the step. As he came near I felt his hand upon my shoulder.

'Better go home, Brower,' he said, as I recognised the voice of
Trumbull. 'You've been out a long time. Passed you before tonight.'

'Why didn't you speak?'

'You were preoccupied.'

'Not keeping good hours yourself,' I said.

'Rather late,' he answered, 'but I am a walker, and I love the night. It
is so still in this part of the town.'

We were passing the Five Points.

'When do you sleep,' I enquired.

'Never sleep at night,' he said, 'unless uncommonly tired. Out every
night more or less. Sleep two hours in the morning and two in the
afternoon--that's all I require. Seen the hands o' that clock yonder on
every hour of the night.'

He pointed to a lighted dial in a near tower.

Stopping presently he looked down at a little waif asleep in a doorway,
a bundle of evening papers under his arm. He lifted him tenderly.

'Here, boy,' he said, dropping corns in the pocket of the ragged little
coat, 'I'll take those papers--you go home now.

We walked to the river, passing few save members of 'the force, who
always gave Trumbull a cheery 'hello, Cap!' We passed wharves where the
great sea horses lay stalled, with harnesses hung high above them, their
noses nodding over our heads; we stood awhile looking up at the looming
masts, the lights of the river craft.

'Guess I've done some good,' said he turning into Peck Slip. 'Saved
two young women. Took 'em off the streets. Fine women now both of
them--respectable, prosperous, and one is beautiful. Man who s got a
mother, or a sister, can't help feeling sorry for such people.

We came up Frankfort to William Street where we shook hands and parted
and I turned up Monkey Hill. I had made unexpected progress with
Trumbull that night. He had never talked to me so freely before and
somehow he had let me come nearer to hun than I had ever hoped to be.
His company had lifted me out of the slough a little and my mind was on
a better footing as I neared the chalet.

Riggs's shop was lighted--an unusual thing at so late an hour. Peering
through the window I saw Riggs sleeping at his desk An old tin lantern
sat near, its candle burning low, with a flaring flame, that threw
a spray of light upon him as it rose and fell. Far back in the shop
another light was burning dimly. I lifted the big iron latch and pushed
the door open. Riggs did not move. I closed the door softly an