's not that I want him to know. I
want to know myself that I'm doing something for him. I'll find out
things that I can do without interfering with you. I'll think them out."

"Anything any one else did for him would be interfering with me," said
Lazarus.

It was The Rat's turn to reflect now, and his face twisted itself into
new lines and wrinkles.

"I'll tell you before I do anything," he said, after he had thought it
over. "You served him first."

"I have served him ever since he was born," said Lazarus.

"He's--he's yours," said The Rat, still thinking deeply.

"I am his," was Lazarus's stern answer. "I am his--and the young
Master's."

"That's it," The Rat said. Then a squeak of a half-laugh broke from
him. "I've never been anybody's," he added.

His sharp eyes caught a passing look on Lazarus's face. Such a queer,
disturbed, sudden look. Could he be rather sorry for him?

Perhaps the look meant something like that.

"If you stay near him long enough--and it needn't be long--you will be
his too. Everybody is."

The Rat sat up as straight as he could. "When it comes to that," he
blurted out, "I'm his now, in my way. I was his two minutes after he
looked at me with his queer, handsome eyes. They're queer because they
get you, and you want to follow him. I'm going to follow."

That night Lazarus recounted to his master the story of the scene. He
simply repeated word for word what had been said, and Loristan listened
gravely.

"We have not had time to learn much of him yet," he commented. "But
that is a faithful soul, I think."

A few days later, Marco missed The Rat soon after their breakfast hour.
He had gone out without saying anything to the household. He did not
return for several hours, and when he came back he looked tired. In
the afternoon he fell asleep on his sofa in Marco's room and slept
heavily. No one asked him any questions as he volunteered no
explanation. The next day he went out again in the same mysterious
manner, and the next and the next. For an entire week he went out and
returned with the tired look; but he did not explain until one morning,
as he lay on his sofa before getting up, he said to Marco:

"I'm practicing walking with my crutches. I don't want to go about
like a rat any more. I mean to be as near like other people as I can.
I walk farther every morning. I began with two miles. If I practice
every day, my crutches will be like legs."

"Shall I wal