Burnham Breaker

But in the house from which the body of Robert Burnham had been carried to the grave there were still tears and desolation. Not, indeed, as an outward show; Margaret Burnham was very brave, an

ond devotion charmed her, now and then, into something almost like forgetfulness. She often

at the door of the Burnham mansion, sent his card up to Mrs. Burnham, and seated

to her; he apologized for coming, in this way, without previous announcem

ired," she replied; "I shall

in hand. You remember, of course, the Cher

er forget it

ted me at my office, within the last few days, who claims to have saved your child from that wr

sudden pallor on her face, too great

lawyer said; "I will try to speak o

, "my Ralph! did you s

y. He seems to be very much in earnest, though I am bou

tion him myself. Bring the child to me

calm; if you will allow me I will expl

st see him; I cannot wait! It

ld soon believe, fully, that her son had been saved and could be restored to her. With such a belief in her mind th

, and his appearance, as I have said, is against him. I have agreed to assist him only in case he is able t

h was living had, for the time being, overmastered her. Now she sank back into her chai

she asked. "What is

of the rescue, giving to it, however, an air of lig

ild's death is sufficient to refute this man's story completely.

e wreck had been cleared away. But we learned beyond doubt that there was but one other child in the car, a bright, pretty boy of Ralph's age, travelling with his grandfather, and that this child was saved. No one

r eyes as if to shut out the

iligent inquiry afterward

existence. We came to the firm belief, long ago, that he died that night. The mos

feel it to be my duty to examine into it. Of course, his object is to get gain. He wants compensation for his services in the matter of rescuing and caring for the child. He seems also to be very desirous that the boy's

n the way of proof. Let this man come and relate his story t

ld man says that the boy ran away from him two or three years ago, and I have inferred that the flight was due, partially, at least, to unkind treatment on Craft's part. I believe he is now afraid to talk the matter over with you personally, lest

" asked the lady, anxiously, not

he country over for him. He did

re was h

in Sc

is strange. Is th

e

e live? who c

e could not well evade these questions and at the same time appear

iam Buckley, better kno

screen-room at B

what name

son's nam

e-picker! Do you

an's turn to

him?" he as

me of him; I have seen him frequently; I h

know the boy. We can talk more

aim that Ralph, the slate-picker,

lient's state

d back wearily

me upon a futile errand,

to be successful. He felt that he could speak a little more strongly now

ce that impressed you-now that you know the claim set up for h

s sorrow at the time of my husband's death touched me very deeply. I have been several times since then to look after his comfo

at time works wonders in a child's appearan

und cheeks and chin, a glow of health and happiness in his face. This lad is different, very different. There could

g now exactly according to his plan. He thou

belief. He will doubtless desire me to institute legal proceedin

sfer it to the child most cheerfully. I take it, however

tain

can be done against m

f this matter outside of the courts. That is why I am here in person. I had hoped that I might induce you to acknowledge the boy as your son, to agree to set o

gh he is not my son-I have enough; if the man is in want, I will help him, I will give him money. But wait! did you say he had been cruel to the child? The

itively decline to acknowledge this boy

lad to assist him; I have it in mind to do so; he is a brave, good

. "I trust, I sincerely trust, that whatever I may find it in my heart and conscience to do in behalf

Burnham. If I could believe that he is really my son, I would take him to my heart with inexpressible joy. Without that belief I should

nd your judgment. I trust that no meeting between us will be l

mornin

e street, with a smile on his face. The execution of his scheme h

*

every one who knew him was his friend; every child who saw him smiled up instinctively into his face; he was a brother to all men. Gray spots were coming in his hair, his shoulders were bowed with toil, and his limbs were bent with disease

house he had taken Ralph. It was not an elegant home, to be sure, but it was a home where no harsh word was spoken from year's end to year's end; and to Ralph, fresh from his dreadful life with Simon Craft, this was much, oh! very much, indeed. The boy was very fond of "Uncle Billy," as he called him, and the days and nights he spent with him were not unhappy ones. But since the day when Mrs. Burnham turned his face to hers, and kissed him on his lips, there had been a longing in his heart for something more; a longing which, at first, he could not quite define, but which grew and crystallized, at last, into a strong desire to merit and possess the fond affection, and to live in the sweet presence, of a k

hed grass and checked the fading of the leaves, that one might readily have thought the summer had returned

d cleared

said Ralph, as the two were walking home together i

"ye ha' the wood choppit f

, and Billy lighted his clay pipe, and they both drew their chairs

n, and they enjoyed it. It seemed

lph, after quite a long silence. "Seems

e to sit to, an' a guid pipe o' 'bacca to p

ing around on the four bare walls, the uncarpeted floor, and the rude furnitu

enook," responded the man, withou

ed, like ours

tired bones rest w

o, Uncle Billy; that's

rning tobacco down in the bowl of his pipe. "An' the Widow Maloney, she do gi' us 'm

dy to love us. Not but what you an' me cares a good deal for each other," added Ralph, apprehensively, as the man puffed vigorously

h. "Been readin' some more o' them love-storie

r mother or your sister or your wife-it'd be jes' li

ed savagely at his

' to have a guid weef to care for ye; but they're a

Uncle Billy; you ain'

think o' your Uncle Billy wi' a weef to look after; it's no' sensiba, no' sensiba," and the man took his pipe

e an' say nice things to you w'en you come home from work o' nights. Uncle Billy, I'd give a good deal

done the bes' I c

e; jes' as good as any one ever could be; but it's sumpthin' dif'rent from that 'at I mean. I'm thinkin' about a home with pirty things in it, books, an' pictures, an' cushions, the w

en Ralph began with his expostulation, but, as the

e had wi' me. Ye're richt, laddie, there's naught like a blessed mither to care for ye-an' ye never had the good o' one yoursel'"-turning

ld only remember jest the least bit about my mother, it woul

had na thocht o' that

ayhap we'll find a

es there, I look at ev'ry one I meet, an' w'en a real nice beautiful one comes along, I say to myself, 'I wisht that lady was my mother,

his arm around the boy and drawing h

ers an' all; an' they was all a-laughin' an' a-playin' an' jest as happy as they could be. An' they was a boy there 'at wasn't no bigger'n me, an' his mother come an' put her arms aroun' his neck an' kissed him. It didn't seem as though I could stan' it, Uncle Billy, I wanted to go in so bad an' be one of 'em. An' then it begun to rain, an' I had to come away, an'

s'all have a hame, an' a mither too

r a time, then Bache

d, what kin' o' a mither wo

r I want, it'd be-it'd be Mrs. Burnham. There! now, don't laugh, Uncle Billy; I know it's out o' all reason; she's very rich, an' b

like to find the mither in high places as in low, an' liker to

illy! an' ev'ry mornin' too, maybe; wouldn't that be-be-" and Ralph, at a loss for a fitting wor to represent such bliss as that, simply clasped his hands together and gazed wistfully into the fire. After a minute or two he went on: "She 'membered it, too. I was 'fraid she'd never know which boy it was she kissed, they was so many of us there; but she did, you kno

, lad, n

imself up to his full height and stood gazing into the fire i

r. Ralph went and opened it,

Does a man by the name of Buck

esponded Billy, ris

asked the young man

my name, too," w

le walk with me this evening, as

ked Billy, advancing and placing

ally, I believe it's somet

ther an' mo

es

like. Ralph, ye can put on the

umultuously as he hurr

. Some one had found him out. H

ss than ten minutes he was out on the road with the messenger, hurrying t