commended me to go West, but did not seem to approve of
California."

"Why not. Had he ever been there?"

"He said he had visited San Francisco, but had never been in the
interior."

"What a whopper that was!" thought Stephen Webb. "Why should Uncle
Thomas say that?"

"What sort of a looking man was he? Had you ever seen him before?" he
inquired.

"He is a peculiar-looking man--has a wart on his right cheek."

"Did he mention the particular part of the West?"

"No; he said he would look out for a chance for me."

"It is curious Uncle Thomas feels such an interest in that boy," Webb
said to himself, meditatively.

CHAPTER XXIV

MRS. MERTON PASSES A PLEASANT EVENING

Ambrose Kean called with Luke an evening or two later to thank Mrs.
Merton in person for her kindness. They arrived ten minutes after Mrs.
Tracy and Harold had started for Hooley's Theater, and thus were saved
an embarrassing meeting with two persons who would have treated them
frigidly.

They were conducted upstairs by the servant, and were ushered into
Mrs. Merton's room.

Ambrose Kean was naturally ill at ease, knowing that Mrs. Merton was
acquainted with the error he had committed. But the old lady received
him cordially.

"I am glad to meet the son of my old schoolmate, Mary Robinson," she
said.

"In spite of his unworthiness?" returned Ambrose, his cheek flushing
with shame.

"I don't know whether he is unworthy. That remains to be seen."

"You know I yielded to temptation and committed a theft."

"Yes; but it was to help your mother."

"It was, but that does not relieve me from guilt."

"You are right; still it greatly mitigates it. Take my advice; forget
it, and never again yield to a similar temptation."

"I will not, indeed, Mrs. Merton," said the young many earnestly. "I
feel that I have been very fortunate in escaping the consequences of
my folly, and in enlisting your sympathy."

"That is well! Let us forget this disagreeable circumstance, and look
forward to the future. How is Mary your mother?"

"She is an invalid."

"And poor. There is a remedy for poverty. Let us also hope there is a
remedy for her ill-health. But tell me, why did you not come to see me
before? You have been some time in Chicago."

"True, but I knew you were a rich lady. I didn't think you would
remember or care to hear from one so poor and obscure as my mother."

"Come, I consider that far from a compliment," said the old lady. "You