“What shall we do with him, John?” she inquired, after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I think we’d best take him straight to the office, tell the master all about him, and he’ll settle the matter.” “Yes, I believe that will be the best plan,” Gladys returned, looking greatly relieved. “Papa will know just what to do. But,” bending forward and laying her hand on the boy’s arm to attract his attention more fully, while she spoke slowly and very distinctly, “can’t you tell me where you live, boy? Do try, and then we can take you directly to your home.” The lad looked up with a most confiding smile at her, gently took her hand from his arm, clasped it tenderly in both his own, and murmured, in an exceedingly rich and mellow tone, some strange sounds. “Oh, how sorry I am for him!” Gladys said, with starting tears: “I wonder if he has any father or mother, brothers or sisters. It would break my heart to have a lovely brother like this, and not have him know anything. Hurry on, John, please; I am anxious to know what papa can do for him.” CHAPTER V. A GRAVE CONSULTATION. Arriving at Mr. Huntress’ office in Dey street, Gladys alighted, bidding John detain the boy in the carriage until she could bring her father. She ran lightly up the stairs, and found that gentleman just on the point of leaving to return home, but evidently very much pleased to have his daughter come for him. She related what had occurred on her way over to the city, and he listened attentively to her story; but his face grew grave as she proceeded, for he was so fond and careful of her, that he could not endure the thought of her running into any danger. “I fear you have been unwise, my darling, in taking this boy into the carriage with you,” he said, drawing her fondly toward him, and bending down to kiss the bright, eager face upturned to him. “He may have come from some fever-infested locality; you should have given him into the care of a policeman.” “But, papa, there was no policeman near at the time, and the poor boy was so frightened and distressed I hadn’t the heart to make him get out of the carriage, at least until we could get beyond the reach of those rude boys. I supposed, of course, he would tell us where he lived, so that we could take him home, but we could not understand a word that he said.” “Perhaps he is some foreigner,” suggested Mr. Huntress. “No, I think not, for he seemed to know what we said to him. He isn’t like those other boys—he looks as if he must belong to very nice, respectable people. His clothes are very plain, but as clean as can be—even his hands and nails are as white and clean as mine, which is not usual in a boy, you know. Come and see him, papa. I know you will pity him,” pleaded Gladys, with a very sweet and sympathetic face.