looked by moonlight, so I just went down the back stairs and came
alone. I hope nobody will break in while I am gone. I left the door
unlocked."

"No burglars live in Brookville," said Jim. "Mighty good reasons for
none to come in, too."

"What reasons?"

"Not a blessed thing to burgle. Never has been for years."

There was a silence. The girl spoke in a hushed voice.
"I--understand," said she, "that the people here hold the man who
used to live in this house responsible for that."

"Why, yes, I suppose he was. Brookville never would have been a
Tuxedo under any circumstances, but I reckon it would have fared a
little better if Mr. Bolton hadn't failed to see the difference
between mine and thine. I was nothing but a kid, but I have heard a
good deal about it. Some of the older people are pretty bitter, and
some of the younger ones have it in their veins. I suppose the poor
man did start us down hill."

"You say 'poor man'; why?" asked the girl and her voice trembled.

"Lord, yes. I'm like a hound sneaking round back doors for bones, on
account of Mr. Bolton, myself. My father lost more than 'most
anybody, but I wouldn't change places with the man. Say, do you know
he has been in State's Prison for years?"