"About what?"

" 'Bout your going away," pointing significantly to the bag that
Phil was carrying.

He was ravenously hungry, though he did not realize it fully
until the odor of the widow's savory cooking smote his nostrils.

She watched him eat with keen satisfaction.

"Now tell me what's happened," urged Mrs. Cahill, after he had
finished the meal.

Phil did so. He opened his heart to the woman who had known his
mother, while she listened in sympathetic silence, now and then
uttering an exclamation of angry disapproval when his uncle's
words were repeated to her.

"And you're turned out of house and home? Is that it, my boy?"

"Well, yes, that's about it," grinned Phil.

"It's a shame."

"I'm not complaining, you know, Mrs. Cahill. Perhaps it's the
best thing that could have happened to me. I've got to start out
for myself sometime, you know. I'm glad of one thing, and that
is that I didn't have to go until school closed. I get through
the term today, you know?"