“Because,” he replied—“because I have not a cent to my name, sir, and the landlord has got it in for me—and I must go.” “Who is your landlord?” asked the reporter. “Baggold—Q. C. Baggold, the shoe-man.” “How much do you owe?” “Twenty dollars—two months’ rent.” “Were you ever in arrears before?” “Never.” “What’s the trouble? Out of work?” “Yes, sir, I have been. But I’ve got a job now, and I’ll have money on the tenth of the month. But that is not it.” “What is ‘it,’ then?” continued Fred. “Well, I’ll tell you. I don’t want this in the paper, but I’ll tell you. Baggold hates me. He knows the woman’s sick, and he takes advantage of my owing him to drive me out. Do you want to know why? Well, I’ll tell you. I worked for him for five years, sir, in his shoe-factory. He brought me over from France to do the fine work. He had a lawsuit about six months ago, and he offered me $500 to lie for him on the stand. I would not do it, sir, and when they called me as a witness I told the truth, and that settled the case, and Baggold had to pay $10,000, sir, for a sly game on a contract. Then he sent me off, and I’ve been looking for a job, and I’ve got behind, and I’m just getting up again, and here he is sending me out into the snow! To-morrow is what we call at home, in France, the _jour de l’an_—the day of the New Year, sir, and it is a fête. And the little one, here, always looked forward to that day, sir, for a doll or a few sweetmeats; but this time—I don’t think she’ll have a roof for her little head! I have not a place in the world to go to, sir, but to the police station, and there’s the woman on her back!” Two big tears rolled down the man’s cheeks. Fred felt a lump rising in his throat, and he knew that if he had had twenty dollars in his pocket he would have given it to Cressy. But he did not have twenty dollars, so he coughed vigorously, and put on his hat quickly, and said: “Well, this is hard, Mr. Cressy. I’ll see what we can do. I must go up town for a while, and then I’ll come back and see you. Don’t move out in this storm till the last minute.” As he rushed down the stairs he met the little girl coming back with a big blue bottle of something with a yellow label on it. He stopped and pulled a quarter out of his pocket, thrust it into the child’s hand, and leaped on down the stairs, leaving the little girl more frightened than surprised, as he dashed out into the snow.