The Washington times., 1911-01-24
To Him That Hath
. By LEROY SCOTT
upright, The Frank A. Munsey Co.


some one like herd try to reform me!
She's all right, friend-Ive seen her
before, and I've heard lot about her.
But her old man-Lord, but I'd like to
Real estate is one O. his lines, you
| know. He owns lot o. tenements in
this part o town-none near st. Chris
topher's, o course-and as a landlord
Soy, he's just partic'lar HI"
I've come to ask another favor of
you," David cut in quickly. you've
| seen the boy that stays with me. 1
want to get him a job If l can.
thought possibly you might be able to
I've seen the kid. yes. somethin' of
a. sleight.o'-hand performance, amt he?
Now he's there and now he amt.
Where'd you pick him up?"
I'VE just fell in with each other two
or three months ago. There's a man in
| him."
Il see. And you're tryin' to dig it
| out. You'll have to do little blatin' on
| the job, don't You think? AS for gettin'
him Work'-he shook his head slowly
there's five thousand families on Ave
nue. A, and each family's got five boys,
| and about once in SO often the street out
| there is blockaded with their mas, beg
gin me to get 'em jobs. There's how
I'm fixed"
so you can't help me?" David asked,
| disappointed.
| You've sized 1t I'D. Sorry; / wish l
| could.
After moment David asked hesitat-
ingly: You couldn't place the boy
| here, could you?'
Here! Nothin' could use boy for"
Help in the kitchen, carry things up
| from the cellar, clean up" David sug-
gested
1T would be great for the boy If he
could work awhile for some one like
| you that would understand him, make
David went on eagerly. He's never
| held job, and a stranger W uldn't
have much charity for his shortcomings
-would't keep him long. You don't
| need him; but still, you can make
things for him to do. In three or four
and by then you'll have him worked
into shape to hold it. OF course, I'll
| pay his wages myself-say three dollars
| a week: only he must think it's coming
| from you"
The mayors look changed to that
sharp, penetrating gaze with which he
| had searched David's interior on his
first visit.
Yes, you're in dead earnest" he
granted. after a few seconds. He rails
ed a puffy forefnger. See here. friend,
you're cuttin' into my business. I'm
an octopus, a trust-you understand? ?
| and any other man that tries any phil
anthropic stunts in my part o. town l
| run him out o. business. See? Now
| you send the kid around and I'll let him
| bust things here for a while. But keep
your coin. ! reckon three dollars amt
goin' to put Carl Hoffman on the bum"
, David thanked him warmly for ac-
cepting Tom, but ended in determined
voice: you don't need the boy, SO
| can't let you pay him
| The mayor regarded David steadily
| for a moment Have II your own
way" he said abruptly. ard suddenly
his big fist reached across the table, and
to David 1t was like shaking hands with
fervent pillow.
Friend. i've sized you up for the real
| thing. You made your mistake, and 1t
was a bad one-but we all make EN-
You belong way up l am proud to
know you.
David flushed. and *as stammering
out his appreciation when the mayor in
terrupted with: oh, a friend that's
good enough for Miss Chambers is good
/ enough for me-"
| He glanced over his shoulder at the
group he had left. then leaned confiden-
TALLY across the table and asked, in a
whisper: What d'you think O the
buncho-the ladies. 1 mean"
why, they seem to be very fine"
David answered, surprised. And they
admire you
Friend" said the mayor. with an
been lookin' on with your blind eye.
They do that! ANY every AFTERNOON
it's the same-either them or some
other bunch. And dyou know what
they're after?'
"Me. They want to marry me. And
there amt a girl on the avenue be-
tween fifteen and seventy that amt
tryin' to do the same. Friend, | cant
help bein' poplar with the ladies. 1
like 'em-God bless 'em! But when
you've got a whole avenue tryin' to
marry you, it's h-!'
| He shook his head with an air Of
sadness. II don't want to marry. l
was married once for about a year. 1t
was when / was kid. l guess she
was a pretty nice girl. but she was
too much like her mother, and when
she went 1 swore I'd keep out o that
kind O. trouble. But they're closin' in
on me. One of ems sure to get me
II don't know which one, or mebbe
could head her off. l ought to keep
away from 'em, but I can't leave 'em
alone, and they won't leave me
alone"
He rose with a groan. "Well. send
lround the kid" he said. and carefully
pulling down his waistcoat and
smoothing his dozen hairs. he reJoined
his friends. AS David left the cafe he
heard a sally and a deep roar from
the mayor, and had a glimpse OF
fair hauntress of forty giving the
mayors face a buffet with her mum
(The Continuation of This Story VIII
BE Found I'm TOmorrOw's Issue
| of The Times.)