k of indecision vanished, and he began rapid preparations
for a walk.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XII.

THE STEPPING STONE.

Thus it was that Mr. Stephens, sitting in his private room running over
long rows of figures, was startled, somewhere near midnight, by a quick
ring of the door-bell. His household were quiet for the night, so he
went himself to answer the ring, and encountered Tode, who thrust a bit
of paper toward him, and spoke rapidly.

"Here, Mr. Stephens, is your ten dollars. I didn't steal it, but it blew
to me, and I kept it till I found I couldn't, and then I brought it."

"What is all this about?" asked bewildered Mr. Stephens. "Come in, my
boy, and tell me what is the matter."

And presently Tode was seated in one of the great arm-chairs in Mr.
Stephens' private room.

"Now, what is it, my lad, that has brought you to me at this hour of the
night?" questioned that gentleman.

"Why, there's your money," said Tode, spreading out the ten dollar bill
on the table before them. "You dropped it, you see, in the bookstore,
and I picked it up. It blew to me, I didn't steal it, leastways I didn't
think I did; but I don't know but it's just about as bad. At any rate
I've brought it back, and there 'tis."

"Why!" said Mr. Stephens, "is it _possible_ that I dropped a bill?" And
he drew forth his pocket-book for examination. "Yes, that's a fact.
Really, I deserve to lose it for my carelessness. And so you decided to
bring it back? Well, I'm glad of that; but how came you to do it?"

"Oh," said Tode, "I couldn't sleep. The eyes of the Lord, you know, were
looking at me, and I tumbled about, and thought maybe it wasn't right,
and pretty soon I knew it wasn't, and then I asked the Lord Jesus to
forgive me, and I didn't feel much better; and then I got up and thought
I'd burn the mean thing up in the candle, and then I thought I musn't,
'cause it wasn't mine; and by that time I hated it, and didn't want it
to be mine; and then after awhile I thought I ought to bring it to you,
but I didn't want to, but I thought I ought to, and there 'tis."

Mr. Stephens watched the glowing face of his visitor during this
recital, and said nothing. After he finished said nothing--only
suddenly at last:

"Where do you live, my boy?"

"I live at one of the hotels--no, I don't, I don't live no where. I did
till to-night, and to-night I sleep there, and after that I don't belong
nowhere."

"Have you been employed in