"I want to give you something to show my appreciation of your kindness to me," he said. "Here is a watch the pawnshop man wouldn't give me anything on, but it keeps good time, and you are welcome to it if you will take it." "No, I will not take it; you will need it when you get down on the works," I said. "Where did you sleep the night before I met you?" His face flushed and he hung his head. "Was it not in the city jail?" "Yes, and it was the first time I was ever in a jail in my life." I did not question him further, but to-day I can not quite understand why he was not detained there the usual thirty days for the unforgivable crime of being homeless, as that was the way Denver had of treating her destitute visitors. Then he looked up with the true spirit of conquest in his eyes. "I'll tell you what I am going to do the first thing; I am going to get a clean, new suit of underclothing, then I am going to take a bath, and then get my shipment." "Come on, my boy," I replied, and took him to a cheap store to buy his clean underwear. Afterward we went into a barber shop where he took his bath. Denver did not then have its public bath--the beautiful public bath later built through the efforts of the Denver Woman's Club. I waited to go with him to the employment office to get his shipment. When this was accomplished, we shook hands in a good-bye, and I wished him God-speed. Two weeks later I received a letter in which he said: "I have a place to work here on a farm at big wages, with one of the best men in the world, and I am going to stay and work and save my money to help dad back on the old farm to pay off the mortgage. It is nearly paid off now and the farm will be mine some day." After that incident I was haunted. The picture of that boy freezing and starving so far from home was constantly with me, and yet, I thought, how much more pitifully helpless a woman or girl placed in the same position. I fell to wondering about the many other boys and men and women who were homeless, and of what becomes of the homeless unemployed in our city. I knew I was not alone in this incidental help I had begun; there were hundreds of men and women helping cases just like this case of my boy. And thus I set out on my crusade.