He kneeled beside the body and made a hurried examination of her clothes, Slattery talking volubly as he did so, and, professing his entire innocence of any knowledge of the affair. But the search was fruitless. Save for a few cheap personal belongings, there was nothing found upon the woman of any interest at all. He had scarce completed his work, before the sound of many footsteps was heard upon the stairs, and a motley crowd pressed their way into the room. Men from the market, men from the street. Butchers, fishmongers, and housewives with their baskets, on their way to purchase their morning supplies. Close behind them came a policeman, who elbowed his way through the crowd. Into the hands of this man the detective resigned the case, informing him of his own identity and of the facts connected with the discovery of the body. "I'll go around to the Oak street station at once, officer," he added in a whisper, "and send you help. Meanwhile, keep an eye on that man Slattery, if you want my advice. Better keep him in here with you--I'll send these people away. "Get back there!" he said, sternly, facing the crowd now pressing about the door. "Get back, every one of you! The law will attend to this matter without your help!" He pushed back a brawny butcher as he spoke, who, with his check frock hanging to his heels, had pushed his way beyond the rest within the little room. At the same instant a slight stir was observed among those beyond, and a young man with pallid features and whitened lips tightly set pushed his way into the room. He was followed by a second youth but little younger than himself, who held a bundle of newspapers beneath his arm. Detective Hook started back with an exclamation of surprise. Before him stood the very pair who had eluded his grasp in the street but a few moments before. It was Frank Mansfield and his newsboy companion, Jerry Buck. Attracted by the outcry in the street and impelled by a desire for which he was wholly unable to account, Frank had followed the crowd through the alley and up the rickety stairs, wholly regardless of results. Springing forward, he now sank beside the body of the unfortunate woman with a low, horror-stricken cry. Instantly the detective's hand was upon his shoulder and had gently, but firmly, raised him to his feet. The boy stared at him wildly. "Let me go," he said hoarsely, pulling himself away. "Send away these people! leave me alone with my dead!" "Your dead, young man? Is that woman anything to you?" "She is my mother!" cried Frank, kneeling by the side of the body, and taking the cold, white hand within his own. "She is my mother, and I, who basely left her to the hands of others, am responsible for this--I, her most unworthy son!" CHAPTER XI. AN UNEXPECTED ALLY. For a moment no one spoke. The kneeling boy wept by the side of the woman's body upon the floor, the crowd falling back to make way for him of their own accord.