"The last time I saw this good lady was the evening in the church vestry when the class members gave her a group picture of themselves. We all went to the local photographers together. There were three rows of us--the tall, taller and tallest--all raw-boned rascals trying to assume the spiritual pose of Sir Galahad. I never cared much for the photograph, but the frame--the gold frame--much befiligreed was mighty impressive. I remember it because there was seventy-five cents of my money in it. I worked hard for that money. It took me the best part of three nights to get it from Cy Watson--playing penny-ante in his father's carriage house. But I was happy to turn it to such good use." "It was tainted money," said one of the boys. "There wasn't any such thing as tainted money in those days. Money was money and no one had any of it. "I made the presentation speech that night in the vestry. It was a masterpiece. The teacher and the women folks all cried. I have forgotten the speech now; thirty years of knocking around the world crowds out the memory of many things that happened when we were boys in Sunday school. But for years, I could repeat that piece. I rehearsed for that evening over two months--I could say it forwards or backwards, I could start it in the middle and say it both ways--in fact when I think of it, I rather believe that was the way I did say it that evening, because the applause that followed my humble effort was too tempestuous, yet the scholars all had their money in the gold frame, and the teacher was to leave us next morning for the East, where she was to marry some man of prominence. My mother said I spoke splendidly, but I doubt if she really heard me. She was thinking how charming I looked in the new trousers she had made for me. The truth was, she had worked all the night before to get them ready. She had had some difficulty to make the seams come down the side. As it was they were not quite finished, but no one knew it but my mother and me. "In the years that are to come," I said in my speech, "not only will your kindly instructions in our Bible studies help us to meet and overcome all temptation, but the inspiration which we have received from your friendship and devotion to our spiritual welfare will influence us throughout our lives." For the moment Delmonico Bill was silent--whatever his thoughts may have been, he did not share them with us. But presently, he observed the tray with the tea and toast upon it, just as he had left it. "It is too bad," he said, "maybe she would not have known me at all.... I am sorry ... but you can understand." Then he began to clear away the lunch. "The tea is still warm," he said smilingly, "I believe I will pour a cup for myself ... my nerves are jumping, it may quiet them." He filled the cup and raising it he said: "Here is to my Sunday school teacher who believed in me in those days when I believed in myself. God bless her." [Illustration] COMPOUNDING A FELONY