“You know Mr. Stagg’s as hard as nails—as hard as the goods he sells,” declared the gawky boy. “No brass hinge, or iron bolt, or copper rivet in his stock is any harder than he ’pears to be. Mind you, he don’t do nothin’ mean. That ain’t his way. But he don’t seem to have a mite of interest in anything but his shop. Now, it seems to me, this little niece is bound to wake him up. He calls her ‘Hannah’s Car’lyn.’” “Hannah Stagg was his only sister,” said Mrs. Gormley softly. “I remember her.” “And she’s just died, or something, and left this little girl,” Chet continued. “Mr. Stagg’s bound to think of something now besides business. And mebbe he’ll need _me_ more. And I’ll get a chance to show him I’m worth something to him. So, by-and-by, he’ll put me forward in the business,” said the boy, his homely face glowing. “Who knows? Mebbe it’ll be Stagg & Gormley over the door one of these days. Stranger things have happened.” “Wouldn’t that be fine, Chet!” agreed his mother, taking fire at last from his enthusiasm. “And you think this pretty little girl’s comin’ here is goin’ to do all that?” Perhaps even Chetwood’s assurance would have been quenched had he just then known the thoughts in the hardware merchant’s mind. Mr. Stagg sat in his back office poring over the letter written by his brother-in-law’s lawyer friend, a part of which read: “From the above recital of facts you will plainly see, being a man of business yourself, that Mr. Cameron’s financial affairs were in a much worse condition when he went away than he himself dreamed of. “I immediately looked up the Stonebridge Building and Loan Association. It is even more moribund than the papers state. The fifteen hundred dollars Mr. Cameron put into it from time to time might just as well have been dropped into the sea. “You know, he had only his salary on _The Morning Beacon_. They were rather decent to him, when they saw his health breaking down, to offer him the chance of going to the Mediterranean as correspondent. He was to furnish articles on ‘The Débris of a World War’—stories of the peaceful sections of Europe which have to care for the human wrecks from the battlefields. “It rather cramped Mr. Cameron’s immediate resources for your sister to go with him, and he drew ahead on his expense and salary account. I know that Mrs. Cameron feared to allow him to go alone across the ocean. He was really in a bad way; but she proposed to come back immediately on the _Dunraven_ if he improved on the voyage across. “Their means really did not allow of their taking the child; the steamship company would not hear of a half-fare for her. She is a nice little girl, and my wife would have been glad to keep her longer, but in the end she would have to go to you, as, I understand, there are no other relatives.