"Yes, sir," replied the latter, touching his old hat. "I have come a
long way to look for it, and I am bound now for Rockharrt & Sons'
Locomotive Works. Could you be so kind as to direct me where to find
them?"

"About three miles down this side of the river. You cannot miss them if
you follow this road. Stay--I am one of the firm. We have rather more
men than we want just now, but I will give you a line to our manager,
and he will find a place for you, and the boy, also," said plausible,
good-natured, lying, dishonest Fabian Rockharrt, as he drew a card from
his pocket and just wrote above his name:

"Take the bearer and his boy on."

Then on the opposite side of the card he wrote the superscription:
"Timothy Ryland, Manager North End Foundries."

He gave this to the tramp, who touched his hat again, and led off his
boy for their long walk to the works.

Fabian Rockharrt, with his nephew and niece, reached Rockland two hours
later.

Aaron Rockharrt and his younger son, Clarence, were absent, at the
works; but little Mrs. Rockharrt was at home.

Little Cora became the constant companion of the grandmother, who found
her well advanced in learning for a child of seven years. She could
read, write a little, and do easy sums in the first four simple rules of