the wail was renewed.

"Quit, I say, or I'll soak de two of youse; see if I don't. Ah, won't
youse--" The words became inarticulate howls which the prayers and
assurances of the two women could not lessen.

"Now, then, stop this noise and tell me what is the matter," ordered a
masculine voice; and turning from the boy, Constance found a tall,
strong-featured man with tired-looking eyes standing at the other side
of the litter.

Hopeful that the diversion might mean assistance, the waif's howls once
more became lingual. "Dey's tryin' to swipe me money, boss," he whined.
"Hope I may die if deys oin't."

"And where is your money?" asked the doctor.

"Wotcher want to know for?" demanded the urchin, with recurrent suspicion
in his face.

"It's in the pocket of his trousers, Dr. Armstrong," said the nurse.

Without the slightest attempt to reassure the boy, the doctor forced loose
the boy's hold on the pocket, and inserting his hand, drew out the
ten-dollar bill and a medley of small coins.

"Now," he said, "I've taken your money, so they can't. Understand?"

The urchin began to snivel.