ed because the land once belonged to a
Judge Martin of Colorado."

Of course, Jerry was deeply interested, and, the moving finished, he and
she sat down to talk the matter over.

From what our hero learned of Nellie Ardell he came to the conclusion that
Alexander Slocum was every inch the villain he had taken him to be.

The real estate dealer had hoodwinked the girl completely, and she had
surrendered to him all the documents her parent had left behind at the
time of his death.

"It's too bad," said Jerry. "We must work together against him. But
nothing can be done until my missing papers are recovered."

Before he left, another matter was discussed and settled. In her new
quarters Nellie Ardell had a small room she did not really need, and she
offered to board Jerry at three dollars and a half a week. As this would
be an acceptable saving just at present, our hero accepted the offer and
agreed to make the change on the following Monday.

Sunday passed quietly. Jerry spent part of the day in writing a long
letter home, telling the folks just how matters stood and urging them not
to worry, as he felt certain all would come out right in the end, and that
he was quite content to remain in New York and support himself until he
had settled matters with Alexander Slocum. The letter was finished late in
the afternoon, and after taking supper he went out to post it.

The novelty of life in the city had not yet passed, and, the letter put
into a corner box, the young oarsman sauntered on and on, taking in the
many strange sights.

He had gone a distance of half a dozen blocks when he came to a church.
The doors were wide open, and as the congregation were singing, he stopped
to listen to the music.

When the music stopped, our hero passed on down the street, which seemed
to grow poorer as he advanced. The new houses gave place to those that
were very old, and on all sides Jerry could see the effects of grinding
poverty.

"It's a great city," he thought. "And it is true that one half doesn't
know how the other half lives."

"Please, mister, will you give me five cents?"

Jerry stopped in his walk and looked down to see who had addressed him. It
was a little girl, and she was crying bitterly.

"Five cents?" he repeated.

"Yes, mister; please don't say no. I've asked so many for the money
already and they won't give me a cent."

"What are you going to do with five cents?"

"I've got to bring it home to daddy."