ejected for just that reason. Nor was Mrs. Purp
free--she was ridden by the Gas Company. So it went.

It struck him, now he was down to about three dollars, that a generous
gesture toward Fortune might be valuable. When you are nearly out of
money, he reasoned, to toss coins to the gods--i. e., to buy something
quite unnecessary--may be propitiatory. It may start something moving
in your direction. It is the touch of bravado that God relishes. In a
sudden mood of tenderness, he bought two dollars' worth of toys and had
them sent to the children. He smiled to think how they would frolic over
the jumping rabbit. He sent Mrs. Spaniel a postcard of the Aquarium.

There is a good deal more to this business than I had realized, he said,
as he walked uptown through the East Side slums that hot night. The
audacity, the vitality, the magnificence, are plain enough. But I seem
to see squalor too, horror and pitiful dearth. I believe God is farther
off than I thought. Look here: if the more you know, the less you know
about God, doesn't that mean that God is really enjoyed only by the
completely simple--by faith, never by reason?

He gave twenty-five cents to a beggar, and said angrily: "I am not
interested in a God who is known only by faith."

When he got uptown he was very tired and hungry. In spite of all Mrs.
Purp's rules, he smuggled in an egg, a box of biscuits, a small packet
of tea and sugar, and a tin of condensed milk. He emptied the milk into
his shaving mug, and used the tin to boil water in, holding it over the
gas jet. He was getting on finely when a sudden knock on the door made
him jump. He spilled the hot water on his leg, and uttered a wild yell.

Mrs. Purp burst in, but she was so excited that she did not notice the
egg seeping into the clean counterpane.

"Oh, Mr. Gissing," she exclaimed, "I've been waiting all evening for
you to come in. Purp and I wondered if you'd seen this in the paper
to-night? Purp noticed it in the ads., but we couldn't understand what
it meant."

She held out a page of classified advertising, in which he read with
amazement:

PERSONAL

If MR. GISSING, late floorwalker at Beagle and Company, will communicate
with Mr. Beagle Senior, he will hear matters greatly to his advantage.

CHAPTER NINE

There had been great excitement in the private offices of Beagle
and Company after Gissing's sudden disappearance. Old Mr. Beagle was
furious, and hotly scolded his son. In spite