But there was other business for Jerry to attend to that morning. We are about to let the reader into a secret, which he had hitherto kept from Paul. Not far away was a small tenement house which Jerry hired and sublet to tenants. Every month he called to collect his rents, and the difference between the rent he paid for the whole building, and the rents he collected from the tenants, gave him a handsome profit. It was not rent day, but there were two of the tenants in arrears. One was a laborer, temporarily out of work, and the other was a poor widow who went out scrubbing, but was now taken down with rheumatism, and therefore not able to work. The old man ascended with painful toil to the third floor, and called on the widow first. She turned pale when she saw him enter, for she knew his errand, and how little chance there was of softening him. “I hope you have got the rent for me this morning, Mrs. O’Connor,” said Jerry, harshly. “And where would I get it, Mr. Barclay?” she asked. “It’s very little work I can do on account of the sharp pains I have.” “That’s none of my business,” said Jerry, in a harsh tone. “You will have to go, then.” “And would you put me on the street, me and my poor childer?” said the poor woman, with a troubled look. “I’m afraid it’s the hard heart you have, Mr. Barclay.” “Don’t talk nonsense, Mrs. O’Connor,” said Jerry, sharply. “I can’t let you stay here for nothing. I--I’m very poor myself,” he added, with his customary whine. “You poor!” repeated the widow, bitterly. “I’ve heard that you’re rolling in riches, Mr. Barclay.” “Who--who says so?” asked Jerry, alarmed. “Everybody says so.” “Then you can tell ’em they’re very much mistaken.” “What do you do with all the rent you get from this building, then?” “I pay it away, that is, almost all of it. I don’t own the building. I--I hire it, and some months, on account of losses, I don’t make a cent,” asseverated Jerry. “I--I think I’m a little out take the year together.” “Then why don’t you give it up if you don’t make any money out of it?” “That--that is nothing to the purpose. Once more, Mrs. O’Connor, will you pay me my rent?” “How can I when I have no money?” “Then you must borrow it. I’ll give you till tomorrow, and not a day longer. Remember that, Mrs. O’Connor, will you not?” Next Jerry visited the other tenant with rather better success, for he collected one dollar on account. He waited eagerly for Paul to come home. He had made up his mind to explore Paul’s pockets after he was asleep and get possession of his bank book. With that, as he thought, he would go to the bank and draw the money that stood in Paul’s name. It would be a theft, but Jerry did not look at it in that light. He persuaded himself that he had a perfect right to take the property of the boy who was living under his guardianship, though, to speak properly, it was rather Paul that took care of him.