enormous links), "and mounts this 'morning star,'" (he pointed to a very
large solitaire pin which had the appearance of blistering his whole
shirt-front), "it kinder weighs heavy on me, Tommy. Otherwise I'm all
right, my boy,--all right." But he evaded Islington's keen eye, and
turned from the light.

"You have something to tell me, Bill," said Islington, suddenly, and
with almost brusque directness; "out with it."

Bill did not speak, but moved uneasily toward his hat.

"You didn't come three thousand miles, without a word of warning, to
talk to me of old times," said Islington, more kindly, "glad as I would
have been to see you. It isn't your way, Bill, and you know it. We shall
not be disturbed here," he added, in reply to an inquiring glance that
Bill directed to the door, "and I am ready to hear you."

"Firstly, then," said Bill, drawing his chair nearer Islington, "answer
me one question, Tommy, fair and square, and up and down."

"Go on," said Islington, with a slight smile.

"Ef I should say to you, Tommy,--say to you to-day, right here, you must
come with me,--you must leave this place for a month, a year, two years
maybe, perhaps forever,--is there anything that 'ud keep you,--anything,
my boy, ez you couldn't leave?"

"No," said Tommy, quietly; "I am only visiting here. I thought of
leaving Greyport to-day."