"Yes, that's all," said the latter to himself. "Dick didn't know; and
that's what's the matter with hundreds of fellows just like him; they
don't know what real Christianity is like; they see so much of the
sham; but he'll find out though, or I'm mistaken. My, what a worker
he would make, with his experience and talents, if only once he got
started right. He just made that old street song burn its way into the
heart, and I felt like I wanted to be a brother to every poor, homeless
chap in the world."

Meanwhile, Dick had reached the office, and throwing off his coat,
laid aside his collar, tie and cuffs. Then seating himself in the
rickety old chair, he tilted back as far as possible and fixed his
feet as high as he could get them, against the big Prouty press.
Five--ten--fifteen-minutes went by, Dick sat without moving a muscle.
The clanging bell of the eleven-thirty train on the "Memphis" pulling
into the depot, sounded plainly in his ear, but still he sat immovable.
A night-hawk cab rattled over the brick pavement, and a drunkard yelled
beneath the window; still Dick held his place. So still that a little
mouse that lived in one corner of the office, crept stealthily out,
and glancing curiously with his bead-like eyes, at the motionless
figure, ran, with many a pause, to the very legs of Dick's chair.
Crash--as Dick's feet struck the floor. The shaky old piece of furniture
almost fell in ruins and the poor frightened mouse fled to cover.
Kicking the chair to one side, the young fellow walked to the window
and stood with his hands in his pockets, looking into the night. Then,
in sullen tones, he addressed the lamp that twinkled in the bakery
across the way: "I'm a fool. I know I'm a fool; a great big fool. I
ought to have told her who I was. I ought to get out a poster and label
myself _dangerous_, so people would know they were talking to a tramp.
Oh, but when she finds out, as she must--and her father--." Here Dick's