"You a printer?" exclaimed Udell. "What's the matter?--No,"--he
interrupted himself.-"Never mind what the matter is. I don't care if
you're wanted for horse stealing. Can you go to work now?" The man
nodded. Udell showed him to a case and placed copy before him. "There
you are, and the faster you work the better I'll pay you."

Again the other nodded, and without a word caught up a stick and reached
for the type.

George turned back to Clara who had risen. "Don't go yet," he said.

"Oh, yes, I must; I have been here too long now; you have so much to
do; I only wanted to get that society printing." George handed her the
package. "Who is he?" she whispered, with a look toward the newcomer.

"Don't know; some bum I suppose; looks like he had been on a big spree.
I only hope I can keep him sober long enough to help me over this
rush."

"You're wrong there," said the girl, moving toward the door, "He asked
for work at our house early this morning; that man is no drunkard,
neither is he a common tramp."

"How do you know?"

"Same as I know you, by the looks," laughed Clara. "Go talk to him and
find out. You see your prayer was answered, even if you did pray like
a church member. Who knows, perhaps the wire is not down after all,"
and she was gone.