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N‘ 51. £01 we] witl slig CDC for man; rent of air . everjv day .“ in which (Continued from page 3.) empty stables and warehouses. The keeper of a coffee stall, touched one night by his woe-begone appearance, give him some ‘halfdried coffee grounds in a paper, together with a handful of crusts. THEKING OF Although wet to the skin he was warm now on account of his long and rapid walk. When he unlocked the door another flash of lightning reveal- ed the dismal interior. He closed and locked the door behind him. On the mantlepiece were a farthing candle and some matches. He groped for them and soon had a light. On oth- er occasions his next task was to light a fire. By sheer force of habit he gathered together some sticks and bits of paper and arranged them in the grate. But the task was irksome to him. It was absurd to seek any degree of comfort for the few minutes he had to live. Better end it at once. Moreover, the storm was sweeping up over the West End with such marvel- lous speed that the lightning now played through the tiny room with a dazzling brilliancy. and the wretch- ed candle burned with blue and ghost- like feebleness. The cold of the house, This good Samaritan had repeated his gift on two occasions, and Philip had a fairly large supply of small coal sent to his mother by the colliery company, so his position, desperate enough, was yet bearable had he but sought to accustom himself to the new conditions of life. There was a chance that his wild broodings would have yielded to the necessity toearn a living, and that when next a situa- tion was ofl’ered to him he would keep it, but the occurrences of this stormy night had utterly shaken him for the hour. He was on the verge of lun- acy. “Put- ’arf that in a pint of water,” he said, looking critically at the sod- dened mess of cofiee, “an when it comes to bile let it settle. It‘ll sur- prise you to find ’ow grateful an’ com- fortin’ it tastes on a cold night. As for the crusts, if you bake ’em over the fire, they’re just as good as the rusks you buy in tins.” As he passed through the dark arch- way leading to his abode, the desolate stable yard was fitfully lit by light- ning, and in the distance he heard the faint rumble of thunder. The elemen- tary strife was beginning again. This was the second and more disastrous outbreak of the evening of March 19th. PAGE FOUR. too, began to strike chilly. He was so exhausted from hunger that if he did not eat soon he would not. have the strength left to carry out his dread purpose. He sprang erect with a mocking lit- tle laugh, picked up the candle and the piece of rope, and climbed the stairs. He paused irresolutely at the top, but yielded to overwhelming de- sire, went on and stood at the side of his mother’s bed, where she had died. He fancied he could see her lying there still, with a smile on her wan face face and unspoken words of wel- come on her lips. A flood of tears came and he trem- bled violently. “I am coming to you mother,” he murmured. “You told me to trust in God, but I think God has forgotten me. I don’t want to live. I want to join you, and then ,perhaps, God will remember me.” He stooped and kissed the pillow, nestling his face against it, as he was wont to fondle the dear face that rest- ed there so many weary days. Then he resolutely turned away, descended four steps, of the ladder-like stairs, and tied the clothesline firmly to a hook which he had been driven to the ceiling during the harness-room per- iod oi the room beneath. With equal deliberation he knotted the other end of the cord around his neck, and he calcualted that by springing from the stairs he would receive s’uficient shock to become -insensible very quick; while his feet would dangle several inches above the floor. There was a terrible coolness, a set- tled fixity of purpose far beyond his years, in the manner of these final preparations. At last they were com- pleted. He blew out the candle and stood erect. At that instant the room became ab- solutely flooded with li'ghtning, not in a single flash, but’ in a trembling, continuous glare, that suggested the effect of some luminous constellation, fierce with electric energy. ‘Before his eyes was exhibited a startling panorma of the familiar objects of his lonely abode. The brightness, so sustained and tremulous, startled him back from the brink of death. “I will wait,” he said. “When the thunder comes, then I will jump.” g Even as the thought formed in his mind, a ball of fire,â€"so glowing, so iridescent in its flaming heat that it dominated the electric waves flutter- ing in the over-burdened airâ€"darted past the little window that looked out over the tiny yard in the rear of the house, and crashed through the flag- stones with the din of a ten-inch shell. Philip, elevated on the stairway, distinctly saw the molten splash that accompanied its impact. He saw the heavy stones riven asunder as if they were tissue paper, and, from the hole caused by the thunderbolt, or meteor came a radiance that sent a spreading shaft of light upward like the beam of a searchlight. The warmth, too, of the object was almost overpowering. Were not the surrounding walls con- structed of stone and brick there must DIAMONDS have been an immediate outbreak of fire. As it was, the glass in the win~ dows cracked, and the woodwork be- gan to scorch. In the same instant a dreadful roll of thunder swept over the locality, and a deluge of rain, without any further warning, des- cended. All this seemed to the wondering boy to be a very long time in pass- ing. In reality it occupied but very few seconds. People in the distant street could not distinguish the crash of the falling meteor from the accom- panying thunder, and the downpour of rain came in the very nick of time to prevent the wood in the house and the neighboring factories from blaz- ing forth in a disastrous fire. What the Meteor Contained. Philip descended the stairs. He was almost choked now from another cause than strangulation. The steam pouring in from the fractured window panes was stifling. He took off his coat, first removing from an inner pocket the bundle of letters found under Mrs. Anson’s pillow, and care- fully stuffed the worn garment into the largest cavities. By this means he succeeded somewhat in shutting out the vapor as well as the lurid light that still flared red in the back yard. i Amazed and cowedâ€"not by the nat- ural phenomenon he had witnessedâ€" but by the interpretation he placed on itâ€"the boy unfastened the rope from his neck. The torrent of water caused a dense volume of steam to generate in the back yard, and this helped to mini- mize the strange light shooting up from the cavity. There was a loud crackling as the rain poured over the meteor and gradually dulled its brightness. Pandemonium raged in that curiously secluded nook. The lightning had ceased totally, and the improvised blind plunged the room into impenetrable darkness. He felt his way to the stairs and found the candle, which he relighted. The rain beating on the roofs and on the outer pavements combined with the weird sounds in the inclosed yard to make a terrifying racket, but it was not- ilkely that a youth who attributed his escape from a loathsome death, self-inflicted, to the direct interposi- tion of Providence in his behalf, would yield to any sentimental ‘ears “Very well, mother,” he whispered, aloud. “If it is your wish I will live. I suppose that God speaks in this way.” on that account. Indeed, although quite weak from hunger, he felt an unaccountable elation of spirits, a new-born desire to live and justify his mother’s confidence in him, a sense of power to achieve that which hitherto seemed impossible. He even broke into a desaltory whistling as he bent over the hearth and resumed the laying of the fire ab- andoned five minutes earlier with such sudden soul-weariness. The candle, too, burned with cheery glim- mer, as if pleased with the disappear- ance of its formidable competitor. Fortunately he had some coal in the houseâ€"his chief supply was stored in a small bin at the other side of the yard, beyond the burial place of the. raging, steaming meteor, and conse- quently quite unapproachable. Soon the fire burned merrily, and the coffee-stall keeper’s recipe for us- ing coffee grounds was put into prac- tice. Philip had neither sugar nor milk, but the hot liquid smelled well, and he was now so cold and stiff, and he had such an empty sen- sation where he might have worn a belt, that some crusts of bread, soft- ened by immersion in the dark com- pound, earned keener appreciation than was ever given in later days to the most costly dishes of famous res- taurants yet unbuilt. After he had eaten, he dried his damp garments and changed his soak- ed boots for a pair so worn that they scarcely held together. But their dryness was comforting. An odd feel- ing of contentment, largely induced by the grateful heat of the fire, ren- dered his actions leisurely. Quite half an hour elapsed before he thought of peeping through the back window to ascertain the progress of external events. The rain was not now pelt- ing down with abnormal fury. It was still falling, but with the quiet persistence that marks-in London parlanceâ€"“a genuine wet day.” The steam had almost vanished. When he removed his coat from the broken panes he saw with surprise that the flagstones in the yard were dry within a circle of two feet around the hole made by the meteor. Such drops as fell within that area were instantly obliterated, and tiny jets of vapor from the hole itself betrayed the pres- ence of the fiery object beneath. His boyish curiosity being thoroughly ar- ouSed, he drew an old sack over his head and shoulders, unlocked a door which led into the yard from a. tiny scullery, and cautiously approached the place where the meteor had plgc- ed its way into the ground. The stones were littered with debris, but the velocity of the heavy mass ha_d been so great that a comparatively clean cut was made through the pave- mentment. The air was warm, with the hot breath of an oven, and it was as much as Philip could hear when he stood on the brink oi the hole and peeped in. At a good A depth, nearly hali his own height he estimated; he saw a round hall firmly imbedded in the earth. It was dully red, with its surface all cracks and fissures as the result of the water poured onto it. CHAPTER III. up we "wuvvv’ -_‘._-, set his coat to dry, and dragged his mattress from the bedroom to the front of the fire. The warmth within and without the house made him intoler- ably drowsy, and he fell asleep while murmuring his prayers, a practice ab- andoned since the hour of his moth- er’s death. a sharp reminder or the potency of the heat still stored below when the wood burst into sudden flame. . This ended his investigations for the 1 ‘..I. Llua Cuuuu ans-r night. He used up the windQW; In reality, Philip was undergoing a novel sort of Turkish bath. and the perspiration induced thereby probab« 1y saved him from a dangerous cold. He slept long and soundly. Long ere the coal in the gratet was exhausted, the presence__of the meteor had pen etrated the surrounding ground, and the house was far above its normal temperature when he awoke. The sun had risen in a cloudless sky. A lovely spring morning had succeeded a. night of gloom and dis- aster, and the first sound that greet- ed his wondering ears was the twit- tering of the busy sparrows on the housetops. Of course he owned nei~ ther clock nor watch. These articles, with many others, were represented by a number of pawn tickets stuffed into one of the envelopes of his mother’s packet of letters. But the exeperience of even a few weeks had taught him roughly how to estimate time by the sun, and he guessed the hour to be eight o’clock, or thereabouts. His first thought was of the me- teor. His toilet was that of primeval man, being a mere matter of rising and stretching his stifi limbs. While lacing his boots he noticed that the floor was literally covered with tiny white specks, the largest of which was not bigger than a grain of bird seed. These were the particles which shot through the broken window during the previous night. He picked up a few and examined them. They were hard, angular, cold to the touch, and a dull white in color. On entering the yard he saw hun- dreds of these queer little rough peb- bles, many of them as large as peas, some the size of marbles and a few bigger ones. They had evidently flown on all sides, but, encountering lofty walls, save wheer they forced a way through the thin glass of_ the window, had fallen back to the ground. In- terspersed with them he found pieces of broken stone and jagged lumps of material that looked and felt like iron. By this time the meteor had cooled sufficiently to reveal the nature of the crust. It appeared to be an amalgam of the dark iron-like mineral and the white pebbles. Through one deep fis- sure he could still see the fiery heat of the thing, and he imagined that when the internal heat had quite exhausted itself the great ball would easily break into pieces, for it was rent in all dir- ections. His first exclamation was one of thankfulness. “I am jolly glad that thing didn’t in] on my head,” he said aloud, for- getting that had its advent been de- layed a second or two, the precise locality selected for its impact would not have mattered much to him. “I wonder what it is,” he went on. “Is is worth anything? Perhaps ii‘ I dig it out, I may be able to sell it‘ as a curiosity.” } A moments reflection told him, how-‘ ever, that he would not be able to‘ disinter it that day, even if he pos- sessed the requisite implements. On its lower side it was probably still red hot. Through the soles of his boots, broken as they were, he could easily feel the heat of the ground, so the ex- periment must be deferred for twen- ty-four hours longer. At any rate, he was sure that his mysterious visitor represented a realizable asset, and the knowledge gave him a sudden distaste for cofiee grounds and stale crusts. He resolved to spend his remaining three half pence on a breakfast, and at the same time make some guarded inquiries as to the nature and pos- sible cash value of the meteor itself, Evidently its fall had attracted no public attention. The fury of the ele- ments and the subsequent heavy rain were effectual safeguards in this res pect, and Johnson’s Mews, marked out for demolition a fortnight later, were practically deserted now day and night. Phillip did not then know that London had already much to talk about in the recorded incidents of two storms. The morning newspapers were hysterical with headlines announcing reason why the electrical disturbance should have been wholly confined to the metropolitan area. Philip Anson. a ragged boy of fifteen, residing in a desolate nook of the most disheveled district in the East End, possessed the very genesis of the mystery, yet the web of fate was destined to weave s spell that would deftly close his lips. Meanwhile be hunted his breakhst. fires, collapse of buildings, street ac cidents, and lamentable loss of life in all parts of the metropolis. As the day wore, and full details came to hand, the list of mishaps would be doubled, while scientific~ observers would begin a nine days’ wrangle in the effort to determine the precise gathered thin! kit-sized pebbles 13,1 football, it u... "unscrewedâ€" up the flushed and his manner wav- -â€"- r piece of newspaper. small paekage tightly. afid placed it imated. in his trousers’ et. Thinking He opened the door. but was rude- deeply about the awesome incidents of ly brought back to a sense _ the previous night, he donned his coat rounding: by the suspicious am and did not notice the packet of letr of a shop-walker. ' ters lying in the chair. Never be- “Now, boy, what do you want here?.’ fore had these documents left his pos The unconscious stress In session. The door was locked and the words was certainly borne out by the key in his pocket before he missed ' contrast between Philip. 8 300131 them. It was in his mind to turn pariah in attire, and the wealth of back. In another second he would. gold and precious stones cut ofi from have obeyed the impulse, had not a him by panes of thick glass and iron mighty gust of wind Swept through 1 bars. What. indeed, did this outcast the yard and carried his tattered cap want there ? into the passage. That settled it. Phi- Confused by the sudden demand, and lip ran after his headgear. and so was no less by its complete obviousneu. blown into a strange sea of events. Philip flushed and stammered: “They are quite sate there," he; “Iâ€"erâ€"only, wished to obtain some thought. “In any case, it Will be best I information, git," he answered. not to carry them out in future. Theyl Like all others, the shopman was I set so frayed. and some day 1' may amazed by the difierenoe between the want them.” boy’ smanners and his appearance. Emerging from the haven of the “Information," be repeated in sur- Mews,_ he found the untidy life of l prise. "What information can we 7-_A'IA-.~ ____ 9” 1.1;; gaggaalfwfhese hé wgpped 12h: ' ws per, screw up ‘ 2:11:31 ofialclfiagepatightl , aid placed 1t - -‘--l- mun-Jana qu “1cm. Emerging from the haven of the M)ew-s,_ he found the untidy life of the Mile End road eddying in restless confusion through a gale. The gaunt, high walls surrounding his secluded dwelling had sheltered him from the blustering, March wind that was now drying the streets and creating much ill-temper in the hearts of carters, stall owners and girls with large hats and ‘IA ___ full skirts. In a word, everything that could be flapped or shaken, or rudely swept anywhere out of its right- ful place, was dealt with accordingly. In one instance a heavy tarpaulin was lifted clean off a wagon and neatly lodged over the heads of the driver and horses of a passing omnibus. They were not extricated from its close em- brace without some difficulty and a great quantity of severe yet cogent remarks by the wagoner and the driver, assisted by the ’bus conductor and various passengers. on Philip laughed heartily, for the first time since his mother’s death. He waited until the driver and the wag- oner had exchanged their farewell compliments. Then he made 03 briskly toward an establishment where three halfpence would purchase a cup of cofiee and a bun. "131m miutes he felt much refresh ed, and his busy mind reverted to the mysterious package he carried. Think ing it best to seek the counsel of an oldel: head, he went to O’Brien‘s shop. The old man was taking down the shutters, and found the task none too easy. Without a word, Philip helped him, and soon the pensioner was wip- ing his Spectacles in the shelter of the shop. “i dunno what the weather is com- in’ to at all,” he grumbled. “Last night was like takin’r u}; the Redan, “It. cemiinly was a fearful thun- derstorm,” said Phillip. “Faix, boy, that’t a thrue word. It was like old times in the hills in Injia where the divli himsel holds coort some nights. But what’s the matter ? Didn’t you get a job." an’ this mornin' reminds me uv cros- sin’ the Bay 0’ Biscay.” Philip laughed again. “I am not sure yet,” he replied. “I really want you what this is." With his hand in his pocket, he had untwisted the paper and taken out the white pebbles, which he now handed to O’Brien. The old man took it, smelt it and adjusted his glasses for a critical ex- amination. “It ain't alum," he announced. “No. I think not." “An it ain’t glass.” “Probably not.” “Where did yet get it ?" “I found it lying on the pavement." “O’Brien scratched his head. “ 'Tis a quare lookin objec’, anyhow. What good is it ?” Philip, from his small store of phy- sical geography. knew that meteona were articles of sufficient rarity to at tract attention. And he was tenacious “I cannot tell you. I thought that possibly it might have some value.” “What! A scrap of white shtone like that. Arrah, what's come over ye ?” “There is no harm in asking, is there ? Some one should be able to tell me what it is made of." “I suppose that a jeweler would be the best man to judge. He must un- derstand about stones.” he went on. “Maybee; but. I don’t see what's the use. ’Tis a. sheer waste of time. These German Jews round here are owed- hanns. They don’t know a watch from a. clock, an’ if they did they’d chate He took the pebble, which he plac- ed in his waistcoat pocket. Walking briskly, he traversed some part of the sorrowful journey of barely twelve “I never thought of that, yet I ought to know by this time. Thank you; I will go into the city.'f hour earlier. What had happened to change his mood he did not know, md scarcely troubled to inquire. Last night he hurried through these streets in a hezied quest of death. Now he strode along ful lo flwpe, joyous in the confidencewf me and youth. His one dominant thought was that' his mother had protected him, had token himiromthedukgatedeternity. ll ternplated suicide. This latter.idea had vanished with the madness that induced it. Philip was sane again, morally and mentally. He was keen- ly anxious to justify his mother'- trust in him. The Mastering wind, annoying to most wamm ar- oused in him a spirit at moist-nee, of fortitude. He weaned it no man- tnlly that when at M be panned at Oddly enough. he laid far more stress on his escape from the meteor tlnn on the accident thet preleptefi 1m con- missed contrast, between runny: â€" -, ’ tum pariah in attire, and the wealth of 88 would. gold and precious stones cut at! from thl ‘ not a him by panes of thick glass and ' 1110081! I bars. What. indeed, dld this outcast 3“ ed cspl want. there ? .. fiL: n , ,1 L_ 4|..- andflpfl demand. and W! ms I he replied: ‘ “It is qu be 1 uoertun i1 m- go to a 1 and, he. pr be fair ofler. the door of a great jewelry ambush- ment in Ludzate Hill. his face was flushed and his manner eager and an- now all run-'â€" -â€" bars. What. indeed, did this outcast want there ? Confused by the sudden demand, and no less by its complete obviousness, Philip flushed and summer-ed: “Iâ€"erâ€"only_ wished to obtain some information, sir," he answered. Like all others. the shapman was amazed by the diflerenee between the boy’ smanners and his appearance. “Information,” he repeated in sur- prise. “What information can we 0 give you ?' The wealth of the firm oppressed this man. He could only speak in ac- cents of adulation where the shop was concerned. Philip produced his white pebble. “What is this ?" he said. The directness of the query again took his heater aback. Without a word, he bent and examined the stone. Professional instinct mastered all other considerations. c “You must apply to that depart- ment.” He majestically waved his hand toward a side counter. Philip obeyed silently. and approached a small. elderly personage, a man with clever. kindly eyes. who was {submit- clever, kindly eyes. who was submit- ing to microscopical examinations a number of tiny stones spread out on a chamois leather folding case. He quietly removed the case when his glance rested on_the boy. Well," he said hlankly, wondering why on earth the skilled shop-walker had sent such a direputable urchin to him. Philip was now quite collected in his wits. He held out the pebble with a more detailed statement. “I found this," he said. “I thought it might be“ valuable. and a. friend ad- vised me to bring it here. Will you kindly tell me what it is ?" at him for a moment, but he reached over for the stone. Without a word he placed it beneath the microscope and gave it a very brief examination. Then he pressed it against his cheek. “Where did you get it ?” he asked. “I found it where it had fallen on the pavement.’ “Are you sure ?" “Quite sure,.” “Q6MfifigP' “1.: thfl mll‘.t9rfii com. “Shame!” rwas the muttered com- ment, and Philip began to understand that his meteor possessed attributes hitherto unsuspected. “Is it worth much .9” “A great deal. Probably some hun- dreds on pounds." Philip felt his face growing pale. That dirty white, small stone worth hundreds of pounds! Yet in his poc- ket he had twenty-nine other spec- imens, many of them larger than the one chosen haphazard for inspection, and in the back yard of his tenement lay heaps of them, scattered about the pavement like hail-stones after a show- er. while the meteor itself was a com- pact mass of them. He became some- what faint. and leaned against the case that surmounted the counter. “Is that really true ?" was all that he could say. The expert valuer of diamonds smil- ed. His first impulse was to send (or the police, but he knew that meteoric diamonds did fall to earth occa- sionally. and he believed the boy's story. And the thing was of such rar- ity and of such value that the hold- er must be fully able to account for its possession before he could diapose of it. So his tone was not unkindly as “It is quite true. but if you wantto ascertain its exact value you should go to a Hutton Garden merchant, and, he, probably, would mke you a (air offer. It hes to be cut and pol- ished, you know, before it becomes saleable. and I must inform you that most rigid inquiry will be made as to how it came into your hands.” “It tell from heaven," was the whol- 1y unexpected answer. for Philip m shuken and hurdly master of his in- “Yes, yes, I know. Personally. I believe you. or you would be in cus- tody at this moment. Take it to Messrs. Immmin 00.. Hutton Gu- den. Say I sent youâ€"Hr. Wilson is my tameâ€"end nuke your best terms with Mr. Isuc'uein. He will treat you quite hirly. But, again. he sure and tell the truth. a he'll investigate your story fully before he is satisfied as to its accuracy." Philip. walking through dreemlend. quitted the shop. He mingled with the jostling crowd. and drifted into Fuingdon Bond. culties. pounds!” he repented .emchuncally “Then whnt is the whole meteor worth md what m I worth P” The keen.:tmng.luehwind|oon £3;th a: blew the clouds from his bnin. Be hugely 481W the didnothurrytommGuden. inthe imam-nu. n ‘V‘But. what is- it ?" he inquired, after '-‘A meteoric diamond.” “A meteoric diamond ?” Ct CHAPTER IV. hundred: orphaned. beg! starvmg trump. es of Golconda showered that mad fashion. If the he had shown to the je werth hundreds, then so in the paper were worth while as for the stone}: Wanâ€"‘- he had shown to the jeweller was! wdrth hundreds, then some of those in the paper were worth thousands; while as for the stone in the back; yard of his homeâ€"well, imagination? boggled at the effort to appraise it. The thought led to a sense of caution, of reserve. of well-reasoned determin- ation not to reveal his secret to any- body. Perhaps, it would not be best to take Messrs. Isaacstein Co. in- to his confidence wholly. He would simply show them the stone he had found and exhibited to Mr. Wilson, and take the best price they oflered. Then, with the money in his posses- sion, he could efiect a much needed change in his appearance, visit them again. and gradually increase his sup- ply ol diamonds until he had obtain- ed more money than he could possibly spend during many years. Above all else was it necessary that his meteor should be removed to safer place than Johnson’s Mews Philip had no scruples about appmp- 7 _ -_,J as a token of her love and care. It was his, and no man should rob him of it. It behooved him to be sparing of explanations and sturdy in defence of his property. A good deal depended on the forth- coming interview, and he wished he could convert a small fraction in his pocket into a few honest pennies with the king's head on them. The excite- ment and exercise had made him hun- gry again. His breakfast was not of ample proportions, and his meals of yesterday had been of the scantiest. It would be well to face the diamond merchants with the easy confidence that springs from a satisfied appetite. Yet, how to manage it ? He was sor- ry, now he had not borrowed a six- pence from O'Brien. The old soldier would certainly have lent it to him. He even thought of returning to the Mile End Road to secure the loan, bue he happened to remembre that the day was Saturday, and it was prob- able that the Hatton Garden offices would close early. It was then near- safer place than Johnson’s Mews Philip had no scruples about approp- riating it. Lords of the Manor and Crown rights he had never heard of. His mother, watching his every ac- tion from some Elysian height, had sent the' diamond-loaded messenger is'vgiéQén o'clock' and he could not risk the delay of the long. double journey. At. that instant a savory smell was waited to him. He was passing a flip tle restaurant, where sausages and on- ions sizzled gratefuly in large, tin trays, and pork chops lay in inviting prodigality amid rich, brown gravy. The proprietor, a portly and greasy man, with a bald head and side whiskers, was standing at the door ex- changing views as to business. with his next door neighbor, a green gro- cer. Phillip, bold in the knowledge of his wealth, resolved to try what he could achieve on credit. ' He walked up to the pair. “I have not got any money just now,” he said to the restaurant keep- er, “but if you will let me have some thing to eat I will gladly come back this afternoon and pay you double." Neither man spoke at first. Philip was always unconscious of the quaint discrepancy between his style of speech andhisattire. Heused to resent bitterly the astonishment exhibited by strangers. but today he was far re- moved above these considerations, and he backed up his requst with a plea- sant smile. “Well. of all the cool cheekâ€"” The stout person’s feelings were too much for him. He could find no oth- “Well. I'mâ€"" he splattered. The greengrooer laughed, and ip blushed. The fat man grew apopletic turned his eyes to the sky. “It in a fair ofiet.” persisted the boy. “You don't think I mean to swindle you. surely ?” "Well, there! I never did!" But the gmengrooer intervened. “You’re a. slurp led,” he guflawed. "No,” 1n: the short reply. "I want something to eot.’ “Dash my buttons. an you’re a like- ly sort of 3 kid to get it. too. In you go. I’ll pan the bill. Lord lumme. it'll do me good to see you." “Do you refuse ?" he said, with his downright manner and direct “Hr. Judd, are you mad 1'” demand- edhisneishbor.whooebmthhadreâ€" turned to him. “Not 1 bit. The bloomin' kid can‘t N w I bob’s worth it he bur-ta kiln-e11. 'Ene. I'll bet you two “D'ye mt. I. job ?” Philip's Wu et the restaur- "f‘ WI are-am yielded to his rush to "9 him mnihihted later in the dey. Moreover, the “W real- 1y emelt “mama he was now nvenou. new“ 3110;), and 5:33 3‘23?!“ 2‘“! . quiet dignity .uno'!” Walk Cm. sir. Wot'll you be ired. practically a should have the rich- showered upon him in n If the small stone which had and- Uh ills window. It THURSDAY, than the paid cheerfully, -_, " The boy held om hit for me, render ment.” ounted m Then he Walked 05 E duct stops. and My. 3:: ter him. i “Talks like a 1i ’ does. If my little .tlfllm would ha' been just ‘ Lord lumnw, I ’ope the 1 again, an’ not for WW bloomiu’ ninepence, Gill: oes. r'nux’n? Yes’m. Fifi momm: ” After crux-mg HOlbornv lip 510011 for a little While the slmvsruom of 3 mm was DH! 1114;! he was in hat ()l' he; Dion WM known to the general m landâ€"hut rather he “Shed. carefully {lu- program “he with Mr. lraaCalt-in. Wm“ unlnokml lur in one of his decided llmt Il‘u- meteor meminnwi u" all. Of com. mon dim-Iclmm Would' ogniZa- Ihv .5101“: as a mom] mun-ham Would ' 1y pvdixzrwa Philip m1“ here to Il;~- .‘llllpln: State“ was lli> max; I””l*"}'.and reasonablv inquiry mishtbg all quurhm- where memo“: were olnajzumlv as to w ' such a .~‘.I;!z~- Vim missing. he would «Arum from “I. Ia erviM :xvlzzmwlgdgmg m ‘aud a small :; mam-e: of mm} a receipt :u’kxmwledging m and a small advance (:me low its real unnh, leavin" tion of 1}.» Il‘umactionumfl date. Th" quotion of gim¢ hilding hi~ :uidrvs': if hey. for it was :4 difficult onem hand. Pvrhups the mum would pvrmit him to be“ Mews altugwthvr out of them a more twpumidv habimfimq provided um-w he. had the funds. Thinking ho had succesm all the prnh‘n-m: that would soiution, Philip wasted no. He emcm! Hattun Gardm not gone pmt many of Red: es umil In: mw a large,h bearing 11w Lap-11d. “1mm Diamond Mrrchums‘. Kimba sterdam au-l Imlulun." He (‘Xni‘ro‘d Ihu uflice and He «mm-d In» office and stantly (-um‘rumed by 5‘ youth, wlm >ux‘wywd himfl grille with an archvd openqi admit latte-Yr 111141 smallpmi “Is Mr. IPQJCXCin in?”nidl “Oah, ye»." grinnrdthel “Will you kindly IthimI‘ see him P” “Oah, yess.” There was” ing somewherr in the am the young thr-sw had now drift yet. Tho: gaum and: visitor was midrmly hurls accent of sud; gvmlc mph to the office ~21 business. Philip Wait boy behind I? terval by (my stamp bOhk. “Why du _‘~'4 I am here “Oah, yes~. The other >11; mor of 11w .~ derstool that man of thv 1': emphatic my "I had luv-r warn you Wilson. mi )1. ~.~r,~‘. Gramki gate Hill. mm me he!” Issacstein. r‘a'n I to gob! Wilson and >;:_\' that the r" refuses in z...‘!..:: me r. “Go amy pizzy.” There \m ~ coming ’fr‘ ,3 “Will _\'«- I try and 1 quietly. But thy 1.. g" clerks running. even. Phxl r: a litth \il’l garments. 1 son's nann Then Phi the little : shirt, tit) : the big nu against tin ‘ Moreowr. H of the yum Can 3'0“ alone ?” boy ‘0 mm M insult camv \\ usher Philil‘ ‘ son want 3' his Ludgatv Hi“ useful to Philip: “He “.ants 110th of business instantly "Xi of the cl.»rk.~ With a on personagv \~ and say Hm ibly astonishvd by Mr. “'ilsUn'.~‘ mos Hr. Issactoin. whe ed before him in meat, filled wit] tables, at \xhich but some day I you mam] 111 OS! . C I“ ilix 3! lurk give {3'30th M . grabbed ! I waistcoat ‘ and thick 1i?“ umion. and 110 “'01!“ w {1 he 1111151“ grille was the 19133.) v 1 an admin“ In every dwpa kn {reshc-ned h holiday trad Iii] find i1 profi‘ in order 10 got t I tell Hr. 13' W} Opening Sail w Nov. 5: We in\' me y 0‘ 8.013 ‘gO‘fl dc,” but a may lines to displaying ‘ Braun New B rants,‘ Spic I: guarantee any delivery llsic buy Brady we a' lung demand When the 3W6 Wnls Get G