One evening, early in the spring, he made his customary call upon Mr. Belcher, bringing his usual report. He had completed the canvass of the city and its environs, and had found no testimony to the death or recent presence of Mr. Benedict. He hoped that Mr. Belcher was done with him, for he saw that his brutal will was the greatest obstacle to his reform. If he could get away from his master, he could begin life anew; for his professional brothers, who well remembered his better days, were ready to throw business into his hands, now that he had become himself again. "I suppose this ends it," said Yates, as he read his report, and passed it over into Mr. Belcher's hands. "Oh, you do!" "I do not see how I can be of further use to you." "Oh, you don't!" "I have certainly reason to be grateful for your assistance, but I have no desire to be a burden upon your hands. I think I can get a living now in my profession." "Then we've found that we have a profession, have we? We've become highly respectable." "I really don't see what occasion you have to taunt me. I have done my duty faithfully, and taken no more than my just pay for the labor I have performed." "Sam Yates, I took you out of the gutter. Do you know that?" "I do, sir." "Did you ever hear of my doing such a thing as that before?" "I never did." "What do you suppose I did it for?" "To serve yourself." "You are right; and now let me tell you that I am not done with you yet, and I shall not be done with you until I have in my hands a certificate of the death of Paul Benedict, and an instrument drawn up in legal form, making over to me all his right, title and interest in every patented invention of his which I am now using in my manufactures. Do you hear that?" "I do." "What have you to say to it? Are you going to live up to your pledge, or are you going to break with me?" "If I could furnish such an instrument honorably, I would do it." "Hm! I tell you, Sam Yates, this sort of thing won't do." Then Mr. Belcher left the room, and soon returned with a glass and a bottle of brandy. Setting them upon the table, he took the key from the outside of the door, inserted it upon the inside, turned it, and then withdrew it, and put it in his pocket. Yates rose and watched him, his face pale, and his heart thumping at his side like a tilt-hammer. "Sam Yates," said Mr. Belcher, "you are getting altogether too virtuous. Nothing will cure you but a good, old-fashioned drunk. Dip in, now, and take your fill. You can lie here all night if you wish to."