en up to see me. I suppose you have been
busy with those gangsters, and keep pretty close since you returned to
active service."

Bobbie nodded.

"Yes, sir. They are always with us, you know. And a policeman does
not have very much time to himself, particularly if he lolls around in
bed with a throb in the back of the head, during his off hours, as I've
been foolish enough to do."

"Oh, how are you feeling, Mr. Burke?" exclaimed Mary, as she entered
from the rear room.

She held out her hand, and Bobbie trembled a trifle as he took her
soft, warm fingers in his own.

"I'm improving, and don't believe I was ever laid up--it was just
imagination on my part," answered Burke. "But I have a faded rose to
make me remember that some of it was a pleasant imagination, at any
rate."

Mary laughed softly, and dropped her eyes ever so slightly. But the
action betrayed that she had not forgotten either.

Old Barton busied himself with some papers on a table by the side of
his wheel-chair, for he was a diplomat.

"Well, now, Mr. Burke--what are your adventures? I read every day of
some policeman jumping off a dock in the East River to rescue a
suicide, or dragging twenty people out of a burning tenement, and am
afraid that it's you. It's all right to be a hero, you know, but
there's a great deal of truth in that old saying about it being better
to have people remark, 'There he goes,' than 'Doesn't he look natural.'"

Bobbie took the comfortable armchair which Mary drew up.

"I haven't had anything really worth while telling about," said Burke.
"I see a lot of sad things, and it makes a man feel as though he were a
poor thing not to be able to improve conditions."

"That's true of every walk in life. But most people don't look at the
sad any longer than they can help. I've not been having a very jolly
time of it myself, but I hope for a lot of good news before long. Why
don't you bring Lorna in to meet Mr. Burke, Mary?"

The girl excused herself, and retired.

"How are your patents?" asked Bobbie, with interest. "I hope you can
show tricks to the Gresham people."

The old man sighed. He took up some drawings and opened a little
drawer in the table.

"No, Mr. Burke, I am afraid my tricks will be slow. I have received no
letter from young Gresham in reply to one I wrote him, asking to be
given a salary for mechanical work here in my home. Every bit of my
savings has been exhausted. You know I educated