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From a Bench in Our Square by Samuel Hopkins Adams
page 162 of 259 (62%)
found him, as I rather expected, on the bench where he had sat when
Mayme McCartney first found him. And when the crowd had departed from
the studio, I told the girl. Without even stopping to put on her hat she
went out to him.

He was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his fists supporting his
cheekbones. But this time he was not weeping. He was thinking. Just as
of old she put a hand on his humped shoulder. Startled, he looked up,
and jumped to his feet. She was holding something out to him.

"What's that?" he said.

"A check. For what I owe you."

"Who told you? The Little Red Doctor promised--"

"He's kept his promise. The Dominie told me."

"Oh! I suppose," he said slowly, "I've got to take this. You
wouldn't--no, of course you wouldn't," he sighed.

"I've tried to keep strict account," she said.

David adopted a matter-of-fact tone. "I can't deny that it'll come in
handy, just now," he remarked. "At the present price of clothing, and
with my personal exchequer in its depleted state--"

"Why," she broke in, "has anything happened? Your mother--?"

"Cut off," said David briefly.
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