stay with you till some member of your household comes in."

"I fear my strength is hardly equal to turning you out," the Miser
replied with a smile. "You are most kind." Then after a pause he added
apologetically: "Will you kindly tell me your name? Your face is
familiar, but my memory is at fault."

"My name is Reynolds, Robert Reynolds, and I am at present conducting a
candy wagon on the Y.M.C.A. corner. That is where you have seen me." He
had no mind to sail under false colours again.

The sick man's "Indeed!" was spoken with careful courtesy, but his
surprise was plain enough.

The Candy Man leaned forward, an arm on his crossed knee; his eyes met
those of the older man frankly. "It is not my chosen profession," he
said. "I happened to be free to follow any chance impulse, and the
opportunity offered to help in this way a friend in need. It may have
been foolish. I am alone in the world, and entirely unacquainted here.
I should not care for the permanent job, but there's more in it than
you would suppose. More enjoyment, I mean."

"I recall now you mentioned the Little Red Chimney," said Mr. Knight.

The Candy Man grew red. Why had he been so imprudent? The Miser's memory
certainly might be worse.

"And now I know why your face is so familiar," the invalid went on.
"I sat opposite to you in the car going to the park one Sunday morning.
My physician prescribes fresh air. And later I saw you with that