een KINGS. That's what HE did--just by being alive
a few years. When I think of him and then think of--the other--there's
such an awful difference that--yes--I'm sorry. For the first time.
I'm his son and I can't care about him; but he's too lonely--I want to
go."

So it was that when the forlorn derelict was carried to the graveyard
where nameless burdens on the city were given to the earth, a curious
funeral procession followed him. There were two tall and soldierly
looking men and two boys, one of whom walked on crutches, and behind
them were ten other boys who walked two by two. These ten were a
queer, ragged lot; but they had respectfully sober faces, held their
heads and their shoulders well, and walked with a remarkably regular
marching step.

It was the Squad; but they had left their "rifles" at home.

XI

"COME WITH ME"

When they came back from the graveyard, The Rat was silent all the way.
He was thinking of what had happened and of what lay before him. He
was, in fact, thinking chiefly that nothing lay before him--nothing.
The certainty of that gave his sharp, lined face new lines and
sharpness which made it look pinched and hard.

He had nothing before but a corner in a bare garret in which he could
find little more than a leaking roof over his head--when he was not
turned out into the street. But, if policemen asked him where he
lived, he could say he lived in Bone Court with his father. Now he
couldn't say it.

He got along very well on his crutches, but he was rather tired when
they reached the turn in the street which led in the direction of his
old haunts. At any rate, they were haunts he knew, and he belonged to
them more than he belonged elsewhere. The Squad stopped at this
particular corner because it led to such homes as they possessed. They
stopped in a body and looked at The Rat, and The Rat stopped also. He
swung himself to Loristan's side, touching his hand to his forehead.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "Line and salute, you chaps!" And the Squad
stood in line and raised their hands also. "Thank you, sir. Thank
you, Marco. Good-by."

"Where are you going?" Loristan asked.

"I don't know yet," The Rat answered, biting his lips.

He and Loristan looked at each other a few moments in silence. Both of
them were thinking very hard. In The Rat's eyes there was a kind of
desperate adoration. He did not know what he should do when this man
turned and walked away from