clean skin. She strikes me as able, full of energy, and yet womanly.
These men when they come under her charge," he insisted, eagerly, "need
money to start again, don't they?" He spoke anxiously. He believed he
had found the clew to his restlessness. It was a desire to help; to be
of use to these failures who had fallen and who were being lifted to
their feet. Andrews looked at him curiously. "Anything you give her," he
answered, "would be well invested."

"If you will tell me her name and address?" whispered the banker. He was
much given to charity, but it had been perfunctory, it was extended on
the advice of his secretary. In helping here, he felt a genial glow of
personal pleasure. It was much more satisfactory than giving an Old
Master to his private chapel.

In the rear of the court-room there was a scuffle that caused every one
to turn and look. A man, who had tried to force his way past the
tipstaffs, was being violently ejected, and, as he disappeared, he waved
a paper toward Mr. Thorndike. The banker recognized him as his chief
clerk. Andrews rose anxiously. "That man wanted to get to you. I'll see
what it is. Maybe it's important."

Mr. Thorndike pulled him back.

"Maybe it is," he said dryly. "But I can't see him now, I'm busy."

* * * * *

Slowly the long line of derelicts, of birds of prey, of sorry, weak
failures, passed before the seat of judgment. Mr. Thorndike had moved
into a chair nearer to the rail, and from time to time made a note upon