Jimmie seated himself and waited respectfully, his thin legs dangling off the floor, his hands clasped meekly in his lap. He was always willing to be talked to--rather enjoyed it, in fact--was particularly fond of moral lectures; had a keen little mind somewhere behind his narrow forehead, and could bring himself to discuss moral questions with his lady teachers, showing all the symptoms of an eager water-lily striving upward from its dark bed toward the light of day. Miss Davies he understood perfectly and really liked, in a way. She was good--and why not? Who wouldn't be good with plenty to eat and wear, with fathers and mothers, and grand suburban homes with real trees about them (he had been taken out there once for some Fresh Air, on which occasion he had seen a cow for the first time in his life). But he was a little afraid of Halloran, and inclined to grow secretive in his presence. To sum him up, Jimmie was already launched upon a professional career--he sold score-cards at the baseball park--and he fully realized the importance of his place in life; even hoped some day to be a manager and walk out to the players' bench before the game in a checked suit, announce the battery of the day, and toss out the new ball from a capacious pocket, a new ball in a red box with a white seal around it. “Now, Jimmie, do you know where he is?” Jimmie shook his head. “No, sir. I heard some one say he hadn't been around for a week.” Halloran threw a quick glance at Miss Davies; but it was not too quick for Jimmie. “He has run off, Jimmie, and we want to find him. It don't make any difference why he went. Anybody's likely to get into trouble now and then; and I'm not going to ask any questions. But if he has lost his job or got into trouble I think we could help him.” [Illustration: 0051] “Yes, sir, I'm sure you could,” Jimmie replied gratefully; and what little expression there was in his face said plainly enough, “Don't I know how you have helped me?” And then he added in eagerness to assist, “I could stop at the box-factory, if you like, and see if he ain't working any more.” “All right, I wish you would. Tell us about it Monday at class. That's all.” At this Jimmie got soberly down from the chair and went out, leaving Miss Davies and Halloran to look at each other expressively. “Well, what do you think?” said she. “He is going straight to warn him. Something is the matter. We must try his mother now. And we ought to do it quickly--before Monday.” Miss Davies mused for a moment. “We could hardly get there to-night--we might go to-morrow afternoon, when she gets back from her work. I will arrange to have dinner here.”