something
akin to stunned awe that caused him to chuckle. "Raynownce ut!--an'
yez said the words forninst the priest!"

Regan's chuckle, however, was not of long duration, either literally or
metaphorically. During the rest of the afternoon the boiler-washer's
words got to swinging through Regan's brain until they became an
obsession, and somewhere down inside of him began to grow an
uncomfortable foreboding that there might be something more to the
godfathering business than he had imagined. He tackled Carleton about
it before the whistle blew.

"Carleton," said he, walking into the super's office, and picking up a
ruler from the other's desk, "don't laugh, or I'll jam this ruler down
your throat. If you can answer a straight question, answer
it--otherwise, let it go. What's a godfather, anyhow?"

Carleton grinned.

"You ought to know, Tommy," he said.

"I was running without a permit and off schedule at the time, and I was
nervous," said Regan. "What happened, or what the goings-on were, I
don't know. What is it?"

Carleton shook his head gravely.

"I'm afraid not, Tommy," he said. "You're in the wrong shop.
Information bureau's downstairs to the right of the ticket office."

"Thanks!" said Regan.

And that was all the help he got from Carleton--then. But that night
over their usual game of pedro in the super's office, it was a little
different. Carleton, as he pulled the cards out of the desk drawer and
tossed them on the table, pulled a small book from his pocket and
tossed it to Regan.

"What's this?" inquired the master mechanic.

"It's not to your credit to ask--it's a prayer book," Carleton informed
him. "Be careful of it--I borrowed it."

"You didn't need to say so," said Regan softly.

"Page two hundred and eight," suggested Carleton. "See if that's what
you were looking for, Tommy."

Regan thumbed the leaves, found the place and began to read--and a
sickly sort of pallor began to spread over his face.

"'You are his sureties that he will renounce the devil and all his
works,'" he mumbled weakly.

"Yes," said Carleton cheerfully. "There's some _little_ responsibility
there, you see. But don't skip the parenthesis; get it all,
Tommy--'_until he come of age to take it upon himself_.'"

Regan didn't say a word--nor was the smile he essayed an enthusiastic
success. He read the "articles" over again word by word, pointing the
lines with his pudgy forefinger.

"Well," inquired