from his eyes and as quickly died out.

"That is very good of you, Mrs. Cleary. No, I am
not a thief. And now about the room. Can I see it?
But, before you answer, let me tell you that I have
only these twenty-five dollars on which I can lay my
hands. Some of this I owe to my landlady. The
balance I am quite willing to turn over to you, and
when it is all gone I will move somewhere else." He
drew a silver watch from his pocket. "You must decide
at once; it is getting late and I must be moving
on."

Kitty squared herself, her hands on her hips--a
favorite gesture when her mind was fully made up--
looked straight at the speaker as if to reply, then suddenly
catching sight of a strapping-looking fellow in blue
overalls, a trunk on one shoulder, a carpetbag in his
hand, called out: "John, dear, come here! I want ye.
Here, Mike! You and Bobby get that steamer baggage
out on the sidewalk, and don't be slack about it, for it
goes to Hoboken, and there may be a block in the river
and the ferry-boats behind time. Wait, I'll lend ye a
hand."

"You'll lend nothing, Kitty Cleary! Get out of my
way," came her husband's hearty answer. "Ye hurt
yer back last week. There's men enough round here to
--stop it, I tell ye!" and he loosened her fingers from
the lifting-strap.