se as far as it lasted?"

The boy looked wistfully at Dick, and there was a world of longing in
the blue eyes of Tim Muldoon as they met the brown orbs of the
millionaire's son. Then Dick came to a sudden resolve.

"Would you like to go with me and the other boys?" he asked.

"Would I? Say, Mr. Dick, would a cat eat clams? Would I? Don't spring
dat on me agin," he added, with an attempt at a laugh. "I've got a weak
heart an' I might faint. It's back to little ole N' York an' Hester
Street fer mine, I guess."

"No," said Dick. "I mean it. You may have rendered me and my father a
great service, Tim, in telling us about Vanderhoof. If he proves to be
what you say he is, a swindler, it is a good thing we found it out when
we did. We may be able to save some of our money. If you can arrange to
go I'll take you out West with me. Do you think you can?"

"Can I go? Well, I should say I can. Where's me ticket? I ain't got no
trunk to pack."

"But what will your folks say?"

"I ain't got no folks, Mr. Dick. I'm all dere is," and, though he spoke
flippantly, there was a suspicion of tears in Tim's eyes.

"Then, if the matron who brought you here says it is all right, you
shall go," decided Dick.

Dick was actuated by two motives. He wanted to give pleasure to the
little waif, to whom he had taken a great liking, and he also felt that
Tim might be of service to him. If Vanderhoof turned up out in Nevada,
it might be well to have Tim on hand to confront him. Then, too, Tim was
a bright, quick lad, and Dick felt he would be useful on the trip.

Dick returned his charges to Sunnyside, and the matron, after hearing of
the plans for the western trip, readily consented that Tim should go. He
was an orphan, she explained, who had been taken in charge by a
philanthropic society in New York. The boy was good-hearted and honest,
she said, and had proved that he could be trusted. While his talk might
be a bit rough and slangy a true heart beat under Tim's patched but neat
jacket.

In spite of the prospective trip Dick did not forget the fresh-air
children. It was found that it would require several days to get the
through tickets for Yazoo City, and, in the meanwhile, the millionaire's
son arranged for a big outdoor clambake for the youngsters. He and the
three boys, whom he had invited to make the long journey with him,
attended, and helped the waifs to have a good time--if they needed such
assistance, which was doubtful.

The