, but, being a confirmed invalid,
he looked older.

"Should you say that he was likely to live very long?"

"No," answered Dodger. "He looks as if you could knock him over with a
feather. Besides, I've heard Florence say that she was afraid her
uncle could not live long."

"Probably Curtis Waring is counting upon this. If he can keep Florence
and her uncle apart for a few months, Mr. Linden will die, and he will
inherit the whole estate. What is this will he speaks of in the letter
you showed me?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Whatever the provisions are, it is evident that he thinks it
important to get it into his possession. If favorable to him, he will
keep it carefully. If unfavorable, I think a man like him would not
hesitate to suppress it."

"No doubt you are right, sir. I don't know much about wills," said
Dodger.

"No; I suppose not. You never made any, I suppose," remarked the
reporter, with a smile.

"I never had nothing to leave," said Dodger.

"Anything would be a better expression. As your tutor I feel it
incumbent upon me to correct your grammar."

"I wish you would, Mr. Leslie. What do you mean to do when you get to
San Francisco?"

"I shall seek employment on one of the San Farncisco daily papers. Six
months or a year so spent will restore my health, and enable me to
live without drawing upon my moderate savings."

"I expect I shall have to work, too, to get money to take me back to
New York."

And now we must ask the reader to imagine four months and one week
passed.

There had been favorable weather on the whole, and the voyage was
unusually short.

Dodger and the reporter stood on deck, and with eager interest watched
the passage through the Golden Gate. A little later and the queen city
of the Pacific came in sight, crowning the hill on which a part of the
city is built, with the vast Palace Hotel a conspicuous object in the
foreground.

Chapter XXIV.
Florence In Suspense.

We must now return to New York to Dodger's old home.

When he did not return at the usual hour, neither Florence nor Mrs.
O'Keefe was particularly disturbed.

It was thought that he had gone on some errand of unusual length, and
would return an hour or two late.

Eight o'clock came, the hour at which the boy was accustomed to repair
to Florence's room to study, and still he didn't make his appearance.

"Dodger's late this evening, Mrs. O'Keefe," said Florence, going up to
the room of her landlady