ENOCH PERKINS, Attorney-at-Law As a rule, the tramp avoided any person who had any connection with the law, but he was about to pose as a virtuous man returning lost property. Again, a lawyer would know the worth of the paper. At any rate he decided to call upon him and open negotiations. Mr. Perkins was sitting at his desk making out a conveyance, when he heard a furtive step at the door of his office. Lifting his eyes, he noticed James Skerrett opening the door, with an apologetic look upon his face. Now, a client was always welcome, for Mr. Perkins was a young man, and his business was as yet limited. But the visitor did not look like a client. "What do you want, my man?" he asked, rather gruffly. "Are you a lawyer?" "Yes; do you want me to make your will?" asked Perkins, smiling. "Well, no; not at present. I expect to live a little longer." "Just so. Still, life is uncertain, and if you should die suddenly your property might go into the wrong hands." "That's so, squire; but I guess there's no hurry about my will. I wanted to ask your advice." "Exactly. I am ready to give it for a consideration." "Oh, you're a sharp one!" said the tramp. "But I'll come to the point. I was walkin' along the street five minutes since, when I saw a folded paper on the sidewalk. I picked it up and I'll show it to you, for I think the party that lost it might be willin' to pay me somethin' for it." Enoch Perkins took the paper from his strange client. As he unfolded and read it, he looked surprised. "Where did you pick this up?" he asked, abruptly. "A little way down the road." "Near a house with two elm trees in front?" "Yes," replied Skerrett, eagerly. "I think I know the party that lost it. I will take charge of it and return it to her." "All right, squire; but there may be a reward." "Exactly. Well, you ought to have some thing for picking it up. Here's a dollar." "Thank you, sir," said Skerrett, taking the bill with avidity. "I suppose you are only passing through the town?" "Yes, sir." "Don't mention finding the paper; it might annoy the lady who lost it." "Yes, sir; I'll remember, sir." He left the office, and the lawyer said to himself: "I will keep this letter. It may be worth a good deal to me some time." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER V ABEL ARRIVES IN PORTVILLE THE train which reached Portville at four o'clock was full, and half a dozen persons were standing up. One seat, however, was not taken. At a window sat a boy of sixteen—a sallow-complexioned boy, with a face that was neither good-looking nor amiable. On the seat beside him was a valise. "Is this seat taken?" asked a pale, tired-looking woman, who had made her way up from the other end of the car. "Yes," answered Abel, gruffly, for this was the son of Mrs. Lane, now on his way to his mother's home.