"But why should he?" Reuben asked himself. "Perhaps it is only my fancy. I am getting to expect that people should look doubtfully at me. It is not likely that that man can know that I have been turned away from the works." Reuben wondered very much what could be the explanation of Owen's having left the business where he had boasted that he was doing so well. Could he have fallen into any trouble akin to that which he, Reuben, was suffering? Reuben's sympathy went out towards him at the very thought. Two days later Reuben went again to the hospital to see Kate. He found her greatly excited, but not on her own account. She had been shocked and grieved by hearing of a terrible case that had been brought into the ward that day. A man had been knocked down in the street by a cab, and so injured that it was feared he could not live. "And oh, Reuben," exclaimed Kate excitedly, "as they carried him past this bed, I saw his face, and I am almost sure that I have seen him at the works. I don't fancy he is one of the 'hands,' but I believe that I have seen him there. Perhaps you would recognise him. Do try to get a look at him before you go. His bed is in that corner, behind the screen." "But if he is so ill, he will not care to be looked at, perhaps," said Reuben, shrinking rather from approaching the poor sufferer. "Oh, he will not see you, he is unconscious. He was groaning terribly last night, but they say he does not feel actual pain." So Reuben moved gently towards the bed in the corner, and peeping round the side of the screen, saw the face of the injured man, white and still, turned towards him. The sight sent a strange thrill through him, for there was something familiar in the grizzled hair, the thin lined face, the scanty beard. It was the old man he had seen in the yard with Savage on the fateful morning, which now hung dream-like in his memory, though he was convinced of the reality of all he had seen and heard at that early hour. "Who is he?" whispered Kate eagerly, as he came back to her side. "You know him; I can see you know him." "I do not know his name," said Reuben, "but I believe he is a friend of Mr. Savage's. I have seen him in the yard." "So have I," exclaimed Kate eagerly; "I have seen him speaking to Nat Savage. A horrid-looking old man, I thought him. But, poor fellow, one can only pity him now." "If you know anything of that patient, we should be glad to hear it," said the sister in charge of the ward, overhearing their words; "we could find no trace of his identity, and no one seems to have made inquiries concerning him. Who is he?" "I cannot tell you," said Reuben "I only know that I've seen him in the yard at Akenside's works, talking with the foreman." "Who is the foreman? Cannot you let him know that this man is here?" Reuben was silent. The suggestion seemed to cause him dismay. "I don't work at Akenside's now," he said, after a pause.