eded them most. Nobody knew when John would be back, and
there was the stuff piling up, and not a soul to handle it. She stood,
leaning over her short counter, trying to decide what to do first.
She could not ask Felix to help her. He was tired out with the holiday
sales. Nor was there anybody else on whom she could put her hands. It
was Porterfield's busy time, and Codman had all he could jump to. No,
she could not ask them. Here she stepped out on the sidewalk to get a
broader view of the situation, her mind intent on solving the problem.

At that same instant she saw Kling's door swing wide and Father Cruse
step out, Felix beside him. The two shook each other's hands in parting,
Felix going back into the shop, and Father Cruse taking the short-cut
across the street to where Kitty stood--an invariable custom of his
whenever he found himself in her neighborhood.

Instantly her anxiety vanished. "Look at it!" she cried
enthusiastically. "Can you beat it? There he comes. God must 'a' sent
him!" Then, as she ran to meet him: "Oh, Father, but it's better than
a pair o' sore eyes to see ye! I'm all balled up wi' trouble. John's
huntin' a lost trunk. Bobby's up-stairs with a slab o' raw beef on his
head. Mike's locked up for runnin' over a boy. And my big Jim and my
wagon is tied up outside the station, till it's all straightened out.
Will ye help me?"

"I am on my way now to the police station," said the priest in his
kindest voice.

"Oh, then, ye heard o' Mike?"

"Not a word. But I often drop in there of a morning. Many of the night
arrests need counsel outside the law, and sometimes I can be of service.
Is the boy badly hurt?"

"No, he hollered too loud when the wheel struck him, so they tell me.
He's not half as bad as Bobby, I warrant, who hasn't let a squeak out o'
him. Will ye please put in a word for me, Father? I can't leave here or
I'd go meself. I don't care if the captain holds on to Mike for a while,
so he lets me have big Jim and the wagon. John will be up to go bail as
soon as he gets back, if the captain wants it, which he won't, when he
finds out who Mike is. Oh, that's a good soul! I knew ye'd help me. An'
how did ye find Mr. Felix?"--a new anxiety now filling her mind.

The priest's face clouded. "Oh, very well; he spent last evening with
me."

"Oh, that was it, was it? An' were ye trampin' the streets with him,
too? It was pretty nigh daylight when he come in. I always know, for he
wakes me when