xt7bg7371553 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7bg7371553/data/mets.xml Barnett, Evelyn Snead. 1903 books b92-179-30418276 English L.D. Page, : Boston : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Jerry's reward / by Evelyn Snead Barnett ; illustrated by Etheldred B. Barry. text Jerry's reward / by Evelyn Snead Barnett ; illustrated by Etheldred B. Barry. 1903 2002 true xt7bg7371553 section xt7bg7371553

49,,

"'THEY NEVER SAW THE OLD FELLOW WITHOUT
SHOUTING." (Seefage a,)

(sozp Corner Series

J E R R Y'S

R EWAR D

By
Evelvn Snead Barnett

Illustrated b v
Etheldred B. Barry

BostonA a A A it
L. C. Page Compan-y
aC 1A -. jI I903

Copyrn;/t, 1goo, 19o0
By E. S. BARNETT

Published, May, i9o2

Colonial jrrum
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds Co.
Boston, Mass., U.S.A.

CHAPTER PAGE
1. THE INTERRUPTED GAME . . 11
11. THE SHADOW . . . . . . i6
II1. PADDY AND PEGGY . . . . . 22
IV. HARD TIMES . - . . . . 28
V. PEGGY OVERHEARS A STARTLING CON-
VERSATION. . . . . . 35
VI. THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED . . . 41
VI I. WHERE WAS PEGGY . . . . 49
VIII. LUCK IN DISGUISE . . . . . 58
IX. PADDY MAKES THE EFFORT OF HIs
LIFE . . . . . . . 66

This page in the original text is blank.

" THEY NEVER SAW THE OLD FELLOW WITHOUT
SHOUTING (See page 21) Frontlis
'' THEY STOOD IN A LONG ROW"
"HE TURNED AROUND SUDDENLY
"I THE TOP OF THE MORNIN' TO YE
"ALL THE CHILDREN EXCEPT THE BABIES
STARTED FOR SCHOOL"
"ALTHOUGH SHE WAS WARMLY CLAD, THE RUSH
OF COLD AIR MADE HER SHIVER "
"'WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE
ALONE'"
"A STURDY LEG EMERGING FROM HIS FRONT
WINDOW"
"AROUND HIS TANNED AND WRINKLED NECK
WENT HER WHITE ARMS
"6AFTER THEM FOLLOWED THE NURSES, CARRY-
ING THE BABIES"

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JERRY'S REWARD

CHAPTER I.

THE INTERRUPTED GAME

JEFFERSON SQUARE was a short street in
Gaminsville, occupying just one block. It took
only two things on one side of it to fill up the
space from corner to corner. One was the
Convent of the Good Shepherd, built on a large
lot surrounded by a high brick wall; the other,
a common where all the people around dumped
cinders, rags, tin cans - in fact, anything on
earth they wished to throw away. On the
other side were dwelling-houses, and these
were filled with children-lots of them. There
surely were never so many children on one
square before!
11

JERRY'S REWARD

There were the Earlys, the Rickersons, the
Bakers, the Adamses, the Mortons, and the
Longs -twenty-one in all.
There were really twenty-eight; but the
parents of seven children, though they were
not what you might call poor, were not well-
born like the others, so nobody counted them
any more than they included them in the games
that the twenty-one played. This was sad for
the seven little outcasts, but the others never
thought about that.
The twenty-one had splendid times together.
It was play, play, play for ever -dolls, pin
fairs, circuses, and games. Every afternoon
they gathered in the Mortons' front gate, be-
cause it was wider and had three stone steps
leading down from it, where all the children
could sit.
One evening, the latter part of August, the
sun had dipped down behind the world, leav-
ing red splashes over a green sky. On seeing
it the children played fast and furiously, for
they knew only too well that when the sky
looked like that they might at any moment be
called indoors, made to eat their suppers and
go to bed.

THE INTERRUPTED GAME

The oldest child of the lot was Henry Clay
Morton. He was one of those boys who try
to have their way in everything, and generally
succeed; so, on this particular evening when
he got tired playing " Grammammy Gray "
and proposed "Lost My Handkerchief," the

others consented without any fuss. The next
thing to decide was who should be "ole man."
They stood in a long row, and Henry Clay,
pointing, began at the top and gave each child
a word like this:

"Eeny, meany, miny, mo;
Cracky, feeny, finy fo;

JERRY'S REWARD

Ommer neutcha, popper teucha;
Rick, bick, ban, do.

"Oner-ry, oer-ry, ickery Ann;
Phyllis and Phollis and Nicholas John;
Queevy quavy, English Navy,
Stinklum, stanklum, BUCK."

"Buck " was " ole man," and on this occa-
sion happened to be Addison Gravison Ricker-
son, a little pudgy boy who was called " Addy
Gravvy" for short. He took a handkerchief,
and the children, joining hands, formed a big
circle. Then skipping behind them he sang:

"Lost my hankshuff yesterday,
Found it to-day,
Filled it full 'er water,
En dashed it away."

He sang the words twice, and then he let
the handkerchief fall behind little Nell Morton,
but she was watching, so she grabbed it and
chased Addy Gravvy, trying to catch him be-
fore he could get round the circle into her
place. He ran so fast he would have beaten
her had not Willie Baker stuck out his foot,
tripping him up so that little Nell easily caught
him.

THE INTERRUPTED GAME

Addy Gravvy protested: "That's no fair,
I won't go in the middle." For whoever got
caught had to go in the middle until the close
of the game.
" She is so little," explained Willie, " that
she never could have caught anybody."
" Then she oughtn't to play," said Addy
Gravvy.
At this the children all began talking at
once, for Nell was a favourite, and matters
were looking serious, when suddenly a shadow
crossed the bar of light made by the Mortons'
open front door.
" Paddy! " A Paddy! " cried a dozen fright-
ened ones, and the little group took to their
heels.
In two minutes the street was as silent as
midnight, the only person left being a little
old man whose back was bent almost double.
He turned and looked after the children and
gave a long, deep sigh.

1 5

CHAPTER II.

THE SHADOW

OF course you wish to know all about the
crooked man whose very shadow caused the
children to stop their play and scamper to
their homes.
You remember I told you that one side of
Jefferson Square was occupied by the Convent
of the Good Shepherd and the common Well,
this convent was a source of much interest and
not a little awe to the children. They were
always curious to know what was going on
behind those high brick walls.
Nothing in the shape of a man, except the
priests, was ever allowed inside the convent.
You can judge, then, of the flutter it caused
when one day at noon, as the children from
their windows opposite were watching the
penitents playing in the garden in their blue
i6

THE SHADOW

dresses and white caps, they saw a little man
go boldly in their midst and with a shovel
begin turning up the soil.
To be sure he was old and ugly; his back
was bent like a hoop, and his long nose almost
touched his toes as he leaned over his shovel
-but all the same he was a man.
" I wonder who on earth he can be! " said
Fanny Morton, and the nurse who was peering
over her head thoughtlessly replied:
" One of Satan's own imps."
They did not see the newcomer for a long
time after, then one morning the Word passed
that he was there. This time the big iron
gates at the side were open, and he was wheel-
ing barrows of coal into the convent cellar.
The next meeting was on the common
where he was raking over old rubbish and
abstracting rags and bits of iron. The children
were about to speak to him when something
in his brown and wrinkled face recalled the
nurse-girl's remark about " Satan's imps,"
so they were afraid and ran home.
I do not know who started it, but soon he
came to be known as " Paddy on the Turn-
pike," and just what this meant would be

JERRY'S REWARD

hard to say. WNhile we all know that Paddys
are common enough in cities, still there wasn't
a turnpike for this one to be on within five
miles of Jefferson Square.
Although the children were afraid of the old
man, they could not help teasing him whenever
they got a chance. It seemed reckless and
brave to shout out something and then take
to their heels. They dared not come too near,
for the same nurse-girl, seeing the sensation
that her first remark had created, added another
more astonishing, to the effect that Paddy had
traded his soul to the devil, and was hunting
the rubbish on the common over, for sufficient
money to buy it back. Which was, of course,
sheer nonsense, and if the children had been
as good as all children should be, they never
for a moment would have believed such a
stupid untruth.
By degrees they grew bolder. They would
creep behind when he was bending over his
ash pile, nearer and nearer. Then they would
shout something about the devil and his bar-
tered soul, thinking they were brave indeed.
Once they approached so near that they almost
touched him, but he turned around suddenly

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This page in the original text is blank.

THE SHADOW 21

and reached out his rake as if he were going
to rake them all in. At this a panic seized
them, and they ran like young deer.
Finally Henry Clay Morton made a rhyme
about him, and the others took it up. They
never saw the old fellow without shouting to
a sing-song tune that they had made them-
selves:
"Paddy on the Turnpike
Couldn't count eleven,
Put him on a leather bed,
Thought he was in Heaven."

CHAPTER III.

PADDY AND PEGGY

NOT seeming to hear the children, the old
man used to work in silence, gathering the
bottles and rags and things and putting them
in his bag. Once a week he sold all he had
found and brought the money home to his
wife.
Now Paddy and his wife lived in a little
cottage on the far side of the common. And
Paddy's wife was always sick. The poor
woman had had a terrible accident in which
she had been so badly crushed and twisted
that she was never free from pain a single
moment.
Paddy would rise early in the morning,
and, before he left to go to his work, he would
put her in her chair by the window so that she
could look out on the common, and here she
sat knitting socks all day long.
22

PADDY AND PEGGY

She did not know many people, so she was
much alone. None of the neighbours in Jeffer-
son Square were aware that such a person as
Mrs. Paddy existed, though they might have
seen her, if they had taken the trouble, every
time they looked out of a front window; for
she lived in plain viewv of all the dwellings on
the Square.
But though none of the " well-bred " people
ever knew of Mrs. Paddy's existence, some-
times the mother of the little outcasts who were
too common to be the associates of fine ladies
would drop in " to straighten things up a bit."
" Well, Mrs. Myer," she whould say, " the
top of the mornin' to ye. It's to market Iwve
just been and the butcher sent ye a posy," and
she would put a gay flower or two in the blue
glass vase that stood on the sick woman's win-
dow-sill.
Or maybe one of the little outcasts would
bring a bowl of steaming soup. " Mother
thought you might like something to warm
you up inside," the child would say, and Mrs.
Paddy, unknown and unknowing of the fine
world, wvould kiss and thank her with a smile
that she must have learned from the angels.

JERRY'S REWARD

But no other soul ever visited Mirs. Paddy,
and knitting at her window, she led a solitary
life indeed.

;tAnd th hlXer o r ad a

But,- yo mst knw Pad w as a vrdiffr
HIMA

And the whole heart of Mrs. Paddy was
bound up in Paddy, strange as that may seem.
But, you must know, Paddy was a very differ-

PADDY AND PEGGY

ent sort of a person from what the children
imagined him. No matter what she was suf-
fering, Mrs. Paddy had always a bright look
for him, while, with her, Paddy would grow
so tender and his knotty features would smooth
out so, the children never would have recog-
nised him.
And Paddy's thousand attentions could only
have been prompted by a loving heart. He
even grudged every penny that he had to
spend on himself; and indeed he had often
gone hungry that his Peggy might have some
little comfort.
You see, before she was hurt -before that
dreadful day when the heavy four-horse team
knocked her down and all but crushed the life
out of her - he used to spend most of his earn-
ings in drink. In fact, to tell you the honest
truth, he was almost always drunk. And
sometimes-it makes the tears come into his
eyes to think of it now - he used to beat her.
When he was drunk, you know; never except
when liquor had stolen his brains.
Well, after she was brought in mangled and
bleeding, he was so sorry he had ever treated
her unkindly that he nearly lost his mind.

JERRY'S REWARD

He prayed to God to let her stay with him
long enough for him to prove how much he
really loved her.
Afterwards when she lived, although but a
crippled, suffering being, he was so afraid that
he might forget himself and abuse her again,
that he never touched a drop of anything
stronger than coffee. The poor woman used
to say that it was worth all the pain, and
more, too, to have her husband always him-
self.
Giving up strong drink was not an easy
task for him, and he often wvanted it; but he
shunned the society of his drinking friends,
and never once wvent where he would be
tempted.
He pretended not to hear the children's teas-
ing, but it was only pretence. You see, he
loved children dearly. He once had two little
ones of his own, but God took them. For their
dear sakes he had tender feelings toward all
children, and it hurt him that these on Jefferson
Square should run away from him every time
he came near.
He also disliked their name for him; for his
real name was Jerry, not Paddy at all. He

PADDY AND PEGGY

could not help telling his Peggy about it, espe-
cially when they had been unusually thought-
less and teasing.
It was after one of such times that he said
to her: " I think I'll have a little speech with
'em. I'11 tell 'em that far from wanting to
hurt 'em, I'll be their friend if they'll let me."
" Do, lovey," replied Mrs. Peggy, " for I'm
hatin' to have em misjudge you."
So the very next day he pretended to be
raking and sifting until they came nearer and
nearer shouting their jibes and their jeers,
when he quickly turned around and facing them
began his speech:
"Don't fear me, chil-" was all the fur-
ther he got when the rosy cheeks became as
white as sheets and such scampering and rush-
ing over one another you never saw in all your
life.
After that it was three whole days before
a single one of them was bold enough to come
even in sight when he was bending over his
work, and he missed them so that he resolved
never to attempt any conversation with them
again as long as he lived.

CHAPTER IV.

HARD TIMES

THINGS went on in this manner for some
time. Then the hot summer was over and the
green leaves died and fell to the ground with
a rustle. All the children except the babies
started to school. It became too cold to play
out-of-doors in the afternoon, and soon the
days got so short that there were no afternoons,
and the children forgot it ever had been sum-
mer at all.
If a body had not already known it. he would
never have guessed that the row of houses on
one side of Jefferson Square contained twenty-
eight children toasting their toes by blazing
fires.
We should say twenty-one, for the entire
family of outcasts had moved from the square
to a more congenial neighbourhood, and Mrs.
Paddy lost the only friends she had. Instead
z8

j a

"ALL THE CHILDREN EXCEPT THE BA1IFS STARTED
TO SCHOOL."

This page in the original text is blank.

HAKD TIMES

of the bright faces smiling and nodding to her
every time they went in or out the front door,
an ugly white card, with " For Rent " in big
black letters, stared at her all day, reminding
her sadly of the friends who were gone.
Paddy noticed her looking a little forlorn
one morning, so he said:
" The cold weather doesn't agree with you,
Peggy; there's too much air coming through
the window cracks. I'll just move your chair
away from it, and as close to the fire as
may be."
He had to leave her alone a great deal those
days, for bread was high and work scarce. To
get either, a man had to start early so as to be
handy for any odd jobs that came his ay.
Peggy was sometimes so lonely that she
missed even the naughty children, for in sum-
mer when they played on the common she
could hear their young voices and it was corn-
pany for her. Now all she could see was a
bare brown waste with never a child in sight.
When Paddy was there bending over his
ash heaps she didn't care, for every little while
he would look up from his work, and wave his
hand, and that was all she wanted.

3 1

JERRY'S REWARD

Things got very desperate with the Paddys.
Money became so scarce that they couldn't buy
coal, but had to use half-burned cinders from
the common instead. Peggy declared that they
made a " real hot fire," and she would joke
about their large coal cellar - meaning the
common - " that never got empty - only
fuller and fuller."
Paddy would come in shivering and shaking
in his threadbare coat.
" And are you frozen entirely " she would
ask.
And he would answer: " I was mortal cold,
but the sight of your gentle face has warmed
my blood. Faith, it's better than all the fires!
Whenever the sun came out she would make
him take her to the window where she could
warm herself in its rays. When her husband
was working at the ash piles she would wave
to him.
"On those days," said Paddy, "I always
have luck. The people throw out more rags,
and the cinders are in big lumps and only half
burned."
Whenever he made a good find he waved his
hand to her, but one day he waved both hands

HARD TIMES

and his cap, and she knew he had been
unusually fortunate.
He came straight in to show her. He had
found a big silver dollar. It was tarnished and
black from the flames, but it was a good one
with a true ring.
" Whose can it be, I wonder! " exclaimed
Peggy.
" If I knew I'd have to take it back," an-
swered Paddy, " but, unfortunately, people
don't often leave their visiting cards on their
ash heaps."
This was not all. The very day after he
found the dollar, Peggy, from her w indow,
saw more frantic waving.
This time it was a silver spoon!
" I can find the owner of that, I'm sure,"
says Paddy. And he made the rounds of all
the houses in the neighbourhood to see if
they were missing any spoons, but nobody
claimed it.
Peggy cleaned it and made it shine like new.
At first she didn't like to use it -it was so
beautiful - but her husband persuaded her
that as long as they couldn't sell it, seeing that
the owner might be found some day, she had

34 JERRY'S REWARD

better get the good of it. So she yielded, and
declared that the soup had an extra richness
all on account of the silver.
" It's luck coming our way, dear," says
Paddy. " Money in our pockets and a silver
spoon in our mouths - you'll see."
And it was so; though at first it took such
a round-about path - a little way luck has -
that they quite mistook it for something else.

CHAPTER V.

PEGGY OVERHEARS A STARTLING
CONVERSATION

ONE cold morning in January Paddy built
up a good fire, and, putting Peggy in her wheel
chair, he placed everything in reach that she
could possibly need.
" I'll not be back before dark, dearie," he
said, " for outside of my convent work I have
a job at the wharf that will keep me all the
day." With this he kissed her on each pale
cheek and on her sweet, patient mouth, and left.
The little cottage in which the Paddys lived,
you will remember, was on the far side of the
common. Behind it ran an alley where all
sorts of people lived, - negroes, beggars,
tramps, all of them poor and some of them
desperate.
Peggy's cottage was at one end of the row.
and the convent wall was built up close to the
35

JERRY'S REWARD

side of it, leaving a space just wide enough for
one person to squeeze through. The walls of
the cottage were so thin that whenever the
children hid in the narrow passage during their
play, the sick woman inside could hear every
word they said - could almost hear them
breathe.
On the morning in question Peggy was sit-
ting by her fire knitting so fast that you could
not tell needles from fingers nor fingers from
needles, when she heard the sound of talking
between the cottage and the convent wall. She
could tell that the speakers were men.
" Now, why have they crept in that narrow
crack to talk " she mused.
A low voice said:
" Are you sure she'll not go back on us"
Another answered:
" She's safe enough; I've fixed her."
" Listen to me," said the first voice; " you
are to bring a bundle to the side door at five
o'clock. The nurse will let you in, and show
you the closet under the staircase. There you'll
stay until the house is locked up and everything
settled for the night. After the children are
asleep and the grown people quieted by the

A STARTLING CONVERSATION

drugged coffee -say when the convent bell
strikes ten -you will slip out and, unlocking
the side door, let me in. I have a plan of the
house, and know where everything of value is
kept. We'll get a good, rich pull, and skip."
"You're certain no harm will come from
spiking the drink "
" Not if she obeys orders; it'll give 'em a
bully night's rest; that's all."
" How'll I know when it's safe to come
out "
" She says if anything happens not down on
the books she'll come past your hiding-place,
and give two taps like this " (tapping). " In
that case you'll wait till you hear further." .
"You'll be there to help, if I get caught
You won't slump "
" Me Never! Ain't I always been a man
of honour"
" They say old Morton's mighty game when
once rouse(l."
" But he won't be if we can help it; in case
he is, and shows fight, why then we'll have
to -"
The rest of the sentence was lost, and the
two men departed.

JERRY'S REWARD

Poor Mrs. Peggy sat frozen to her chair in
terror. What on earth could she do! Her
husband was gone for the day. There was
no chance for his return before six o'clock at
least.
" Poor, useless body! " she exclaimed, " the
neighbours' property in danger, their very lives
threatened, a traitor in their midst, and me
sitting here knowing it all, and not able to do
anything! "
She was so distressed at her helplessness that
tears rolled down her thin cheeks. But soon
she dried them and said, emphatically:
" There's no avoiding it; I must get word
to Mrs. Morton!"
She thought harder than she had ever done
before in all her life; then, as if answering ob-
jections, she said aloud:
" If I can't get anybody to go for me, I will
go myself."
She, poor soul, who had never moved un-
aided for five long years, except to turn the
wheels of her chair for a few yards in her
little narrow room!
She rolled herself away from the fire toward
the door. With a little difficulty she opened

A STARTLING CONVERSATION

it, and peered out. Although she was warmly
clad, the rush of cold air made her shiver, but
she wrapped one of her shawls around her
head and watched.
No one passed. Twelve o'clock struck. In
a few hours it would
W, be too late.
She sighed heav-
ily. " Would it be
possible for me to
wheel myself over
the common and
cross the street
Culd Ilever reach
that great
house alive"
She did
n ot think
the Mortons'
nurse knew
her, though she remembered the woman dis-
tinctly.
Then a new difficulty occurred to her.
"Even if I succeed in making the journey, can
I get private speech waith the right persons"
She hesitated, then she added, bravely:

JERRY'S REWARD

" Shame on me to think of giving up! " and
throwing the door wide open, with a mighty
effort she pushed her chair over the sill.
It rolled down with a bump and on for a few
feet until it was stopped by a sharp stone.
It was only several inches from the door
to the ground, nevertheless, the jar gave her
so much pain that she nearly fainted. She lay
still for some moments, more dead than alive.
" I must go! I have cut off all way of re-
turn now. Bumping down that step was one
thing; getting back would be impossible."
But when she tried to go on, her weakness
was so great that she could not make any
progress. Her chair, wedged against the
stone, was immovable.
" 0 God," she prayed, " I don't know what
to do now - help me! "

CHAPTER VI.

THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED

"WELL, Mrs. Myer," exclaimed a bright,
chirpy voice right behind her, " whoever would
have thought of seeing you spry enough to be
out-of-doors! Won't mother be glad " and
there stood the eldest little Outcast, smiling
broadly, and holding in her chubby hand a tin
bucket, that Peggy had seen many a time
before.
" You've come just in time, dear heart," said
the thankful Peggy. " Do you think you could
wheel me across the street "
" Across the street " reiterated the girl.
"'Won't it tire you very much Let me go for
you."
" I fear you are too little for my business,"
replied Peggy, and as she spoke the words a
new idea for accomplishing her purpose en-
tered her mind. " Stay, love; I'll tell you
41

JERRY'S REWARD

what you can do. Take me back to the house
and you shall hear."
Miss Outcast did her best, and as the burden
was not great and the chair rolled easily, after
some bumping and shoving and pushing, Mrs.
Myer found herself once more in her own
room.
And, as she got her breath, she said: "Have
you ever been to the river, dearie "
" Oh, yes," answered the child, "father
takes us down there every Sunday. We love
to stand on the bridge and watch the water
dashing against the piers. It's such fun; you
can't think."
"Could you go there alone"
"Course I could; what do you want to
know for "
" Jerry is working there to-day, pet, and I
have something important to tell him. If you
can find your way to the mail-boat landing
where he is helping to load up, and tell him to
come to me right away, you'll be doing a good
action."
" I wonder if mother will scold"
" Tell her it was my doing, and if she will
come hear my reasons she'll be satisfied. You'll
hurry, won't you, dear "

THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED

Miss Outcast promised, and, after repeating
the message several times, started briskly off.
The river and the mail-boat were reached
without trouble, but to find Jerry was another
matter. A long stream of porters carrying
bags of something reached from the wharf
to the boat. Their heads were concealed by
the burden, and their bodies looked so much
alike that the child was bewildered.
She stood there, frightened and forlorn,
almost forgetting why she had come, when
Jerry himself caught sight of her.
" Why, little one," he exclaimed, dropping
his load, and coming toward her. "What on
earth are you doing here alone"
Miss Outcast felt happy once more;, she
beamed on him. " Oh, Jerry, you are the very
man I came to see; go home just as quick as
ever you can to your wife."
" Peggy, my Peggy! Is she worse " and
the poor fellow looked the anguish he felt.
" I don't b'lieve she's 'zackly worse," said
the child, feeling very big indeed, " but she's
acting queer, and she's got something 'portant
on her mind and sent me for you."
Jerry waited to hear no more, but, seizing

JERRY'S REWARD

the child's hand, started to run. Leaving her
in her own street, he hurried on alone-

His wife was watching for him, trembling
and anxious.. She was so relieved when he
appeared that she burst into tears.

THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED

He took her frail body in his arms: " Why,
Peggy, old girl, what has happened Has
anybody been hurting you "
At these tender words she controlled herself
and told him all that had occurred.
He was thunderstruck. " The scoundrels!
he muttered. " They surely wouldn't dare -
but rest easy, love. We'll get ahead of them,
never fear."
He thought deeply. " The best thing, wife,
is not to alarm the ladies, but to see Mr. Mor-
ton himself. I'll go to him as fast as I can."
But even in his haste he stopped to replenish
the fire, settle Peggy's pillows more comfort-
ably, and warm some soup for her.
Then he sought Mr. Morton's office and
asked to see him privately.
Mr. Morton sent word that he was busy
and did not wish to be disturbed.
" Tell him it's a serious matter," said Jerry.
Upon receiving this message Mr. Morton
invited him in, and, closing the door of the
little private office where he was in the habit
of holding confidential interviews with his
clients, he prepared to listen with a bored air.
" I'm Jerry, sir," the visitor began, " Jerry

JERRY'S REWARD

Myer. You may not know me, sir, but I know
you, and your children - they call me Paddy
-' Paddy on the Turnpike.'"
"Oh, it's Paddy, is it" said Morton, re-
membering.
" Yes, sir; no, sir - that is, it's Jerry, sir."
" Well, Jerry, be quick; what can I do for
you this afternoon"
And Jerry began:
"You see, sir, my wife, being poorly, has
to sit all the time indoors. Our little cottage
is just across the street from your fine house,
sir; next to the convent wall with only a bit
of a passway between; and Peggy, she's my
wife, overheard two men, hiding there, talk-
ing and planning as how they would rob you
to-night and drug you, and there's no telling
what else besides."
"How is this" cried Mr. Morton, "I'm
to be robbed and drugged, am I" and the
great lawyer looked as if he thought the man
was losing his wits.
But Jerry began and told a straight tale;
told it so circumstantially and truthfully that
Mr. Morton. forced to believe it, was genu-
inely alarmed.

THE POLICE ARE SUMMONED

He immediately summoned the police, and,
after a rapid consultation, a plan was formed
to capture the thieves.
Jerry was to unlock the big iron gates in
the convent wall, where the coal-carts were in
the habit of driving in. Two of the police
were to hide there, and keep an eye on the
house opposite until they saw a burglar num-
ber one admitted by the traitorous nurse-girl.
Then they were to return at dark and guard
the front of the house, so as to cut off all re-
treat from that direction. Two more of the
force were to hide in the Mortons' stable, and
prevent escape from the rear. Mr. Morton
was to remain inside to avert suspicion and
to give the alarm in case any violence was
attempted. He was also to practise a little
stratagem to prevent any of the family from
drinking the drugged coffee.
" Don't seem to do anything unusual," coun-
selled the chief. " Go to bed, and pretend to
sleep. Let them rob you, and when they come
out we will take care of them and their booty."
"And what am I to do, sir " asked Jerry.
"You have done enough, man; you go

48 JERRY'S REWARD

home and stay with your sick wife. She will
be anxious if we expose you