"I'm trying to," Ken replied, slowly. He began counting vaguely on his fingers. "It means Mother's got to go away to a nervous sanatorium place. It means we're poor. Phil, we may have to--I don't know what." "What do they do with people who have no money?" Felicia asked dismally. "They send them to the poor-farm or something, don't they?" "Don't talk utter bosh, Phil! As if I'd ever let you or Kirk go to the poor-farm!" "Kirk!" Felicia murmured. "Suppose they took him away! They might, you know--the State, and send him to one of those institutions!" "Oh, drop it!" snapped Ken. "We don't even know how much money it is Mother's lost. I don't suppose she had it all in this bally mine. Who _is_ her attorney, anyway!" "Mr. Dodge,--don't you remember? Nice, with a pink face and bristly hair. He came here long ago about Daddy's business." There was a swift rush of feet on the stairs, a pause in the hallway, and Kirk appeared at the door. "I told Maggie," said he, "and supper's ready. And what's _specially_ nice is the toast, because I made it myself--only Norah told me when it was done." Ken and Felicia looked at one another, and wondered how much supper they could eat. Then Ken swung Kirk to his shoulder, and said: "All right, old boy, we'll come and eat your toast." "Is the crackly lady taking care of Mother?" Kirk asked over a piece of his famous toast, as they sat at supper. "Yes," said Felicia. "Her name's Miss McClough. Why, did you meet her?" "She said, 'Don't sit in people's way when you see they're in a hurry,'" said Kirk, somewhat grieved. "_I_ didn't know she was coming. I don't think I like her much. Her dress creaks, and she smells like the drug-store." "She can't help that," said Ken; "she's taking good care of Mother. And I told you the stairway was no place to sit, didn't I!" "I've managed to find out _something_," Ken told Felicia, next day, as he came downstairs. "Mother would talk about it, in spite of Miss McThing's protests, and I came away as soon as I could. She says there's a little Fidelity stock that brings enough to keep her in the rest-place, so she feels a little better about that. (By the way, she tried to say she wouldn't go, and I said she had to.) Then there's something else--Rocky Head Granite, I think--that will give us something to live on. We'll have to see Mr. Dodge as soon as we can; I'm all mixed up." They did see Mr. Dodge, that afternoon. He was nice, as Felicia had said. He made her sit in his big revolving-chair, while he brought out a lot of papers and put on a pair of drooping gold eye-glasses to look at them. And the end of the afternoon found Ken and Felicia very much confused and a good deal more discouraged than before. It seemed that even the Rocky Head Granite was not a very sound investment, and that the staunch Fidelity was the only dependable source of income.