Old Wheels thought it best not to interrupt the current of Jim's thoughts, and therefore did not speak. Jim shook himself much as a dog does when he comes out of the water, and having, it is to be presumed, by that action, aroused his mental faculties, proceeded. "We've had a talk--to-day--me and some mates--and I made up my mind--that I'd speak--to some one--as might know--better than us. I meant you." "Yes--what were you speaking about?" "Well, you see--it come in this way. I never told you--about Dick Hart--did I?" "No--not that I remember," replied Old Wheels. "He was a man o' our'n--Dick Hart was. As good a fellow--as ever drawed--God's breath. He was working--on our line--a many months ago. He ain't working there now--not him--ain't working anywhere--can't get it. Willing enough--Dick Hart is--and a-breaking his heart--because he can't get it. He's a doomed man--Mr. Wheels--a doomed man!--and might as well--be dead--as alive. Better--a dooced sight better--if it warn't for his wife--and kids." Jim Podmore was evidently warming up. His theme was powerful enough to master his fatigue. Old Wheels listened attentively. "It might have happened--to me--it _might_ happen--to me--any night--when I'm dead-beat. What then?" he asked excitedly, to the no small surprise of Snap, to whom this episode was so strange that he stood aside, gazing gravely at his master. "What then?" Jim repeated. "Why, I should be--what Dick Hart is--a-wandering about--in rags--a-starving almost. I should be worse than him--for when I think--of the old woman up-stairs--asleep--and my little Polly--that is my star--my star, Polly is!--and think of them--with nothing to eat--like Dick Hart's old woman and kids--I shouldn't be able--to keep my hands--to myself. And I shouldn't try to--I'm damned if I should!" Old Wheels laid his hand with a soothing motion on the excited man's shoulder. "Be cool, Mr. Podmore," he said. "Tell me calmly what you want. You are wandering from the subject." "No, I ain't," responded Jim Podmore doggedly. "I'm sticking to it. And it ain't likely--begging your pardon--for being so rough--that I _can_ be calm--when I've got what I have got--in my mind." "What's that?" Jim Podmore looked with apprehension at Old Wheels, and then turned away his eyes uneasily. "Never mind that--it's _my_ trouble--and mustn't be spoken of. Let's talk of Dick Hart." "You were about," said Old Wheels gently, "to tell me some story connected with him."