all in the police
to trace her."

Frederik looked drearily at the doctor, then took up his gloves and
began to put them on. After a pause he said dully, mechanically:

"Oh, I saw her about three years ago."

"Never since?" probed the doctor.

"No."

"What occurred the last time you saw her?"

"Oh," said Frederik lifelessly. "What _always_ occurs when a young man
realises that he has his life before him--and that he must be respected,
must think of his future?"

"A scene took place, eh?"

"Yes," Frederik agreed laconically.

"Was Willem present?" went on the interrogation.

"Yes, she held him in her arms."

"And then--what happened?" the doctor insisted.

Frederik dropped his eyes.

"Oh," he said, "then I left the house."

He found his hat and cane as he spoke, and walked slowly toward the
door.

"Then it's all true," cried Dr. McPherson in wonderment, staring
abstractedly at the floor. He raised his head suddenly and looked with
stern eyes at Frederik.

"What are you going to do for Willem?" he demanded.

"Well," temporised that noble soul, "I'm a rich man now--and if I
recognise him--there might be trouble. His mother's gone to the dogs
anyway----"

He left the speech unfinished and turned his head away uncomfortably. He
could not say such things and meet the doctor's scorching look.

"You damned young scoundrel!" bellowed McPherson in wrath. "Oh, what an
act of charity if the good Lord took Willem!--And I say it with all my
heart. Out of all you have--not a crumb for----"

"I want you to know that I've sweated for that money," Frederik turned
on the doctor long enough to say. "I've sweated for it, and I'm going to
keep it!"

"You _what_?" howled Dr. McPherson jeeringly.

"Yes," Frederik cried in the greatest excitement, all his calmness
forsaking him utterly. "I've sweated for it! I went to jail for it.
Every day I have been in this house has been spent in prison. I've been
doing time. Do you think it didn't get on my nerves? What haven't I had
to do! I've gone to bed at nine o'clock and lain there thinking how New
York was just waking up at that time, and how miserably I was out of it
all. Lord! I've got up at cock-crow to be in time for grace at the
breakfast table. Why, didn't I take a Sunday-school class to please him?

"Lord! Didn't I hand out the infernal cornucopias at the Church's silly
old Christmas tree," he went on quickly, "while he played Santa Claus?
What more can a fellow