there the rest of the way leaning against the
end of the car for support. Once or twice
he muttered:

"The poor little brat!" And again he
said, "So you didn't love me after all!"

He never knew how he reached home, but
he sank to sleep as dying men sink to death.
All the same, being a hearty young man, he
was on duty again next day but one, and
again the night was rainy and cold.

It was the last run, and the car was spin-
ning along at its limit, when there came a
sudden soft shock. John Billings knew what
that meant. He had felt something of the
kind once before. He turned sick for a
moment, and held on to the brake. Then
he summoned his courage and went around
to the side of the car, which had stopped.
Bill, the driver, was before him, and had a
limp little figure in his arms, and was carry-
ing it to the gaslight. John gave one look
and cried:

"It's the same kid, Bill! The one I told
you of!"

True as truth were the ragged coat dangling