Roy took Rex’s dinner up to him, and the twins had an hour to themselves, during which Rex went more into detail concerning his experiences with Harrington and his crowd. They compared notes on Harry Atkins, and then fell to talking of Miles Harding. “He’s something more than a common tramp,” Rex insisted. “He can read a little and write some. Isn’t it funny how much he thinks of me, when I haven’t done a thing for him? Mrs. Raynor lets him come up and sit with me every evening when his work is done. Of course I didn’t know this till yesterday, when I came to my senses.” After the doctor’s visit about three, Rex went to sleep and Roy played a game of tennis with Florence. “I don’t want to seem glad that your brother is sick,” she said, “but it’s awfully nice to have company. I get so lonely when Bert is away.” That evening they all assembled in Rex’s room—Mrs. Raynor was a widow, so the family at home consisted only of herself and Florence—and Miles, seated at the foot of the bed, told the story of his life. “I don’t know where I was born,” he began. “The first thing I can remember is living in a tenement house in New York, where I had to sleep three in a bed with the two Morrisey boys. Mr. Morrisey was a truckman, and there was five children of them, and I made six. I always thought I was a Morrisey, too, till one day Jimmy, he got mad at me, and told me I needn’t talk so big because I was only living on charity. “I went to his mother and asked her about it, and she told me that it was true, that I wasn’t really her child, but that she thought as much of me as if I was, and that there wasn’t any charity about it. But I wanted to know all about myself, and at last she said that I’d been given to Mr. Morrisey when I was a wee baby by a friend of his who couldn’t afford to keep me and who made him vow that he’d never tell where I came from. “Jimmy only found it out by accident one night, listening to his father and mother talking when they thought he was asleep. She said I wasn’t to feel bad about it; because they thought everything of me. “But I did feel bad about it. It seemed too hard when the Morriseys had all they could do to get along they should have one more mouth—and that not a Morrisey one—to feed. “I studied as hard as I could at school, so as to try and get through sooner and go to work and begin to pay them back, but when I was twelve Mr. Morrisey was kicked to death by a horse and the next year Mrs. Morrisey married a man who took her and the children out to Dakota to live. “She wanted me to go along, but I knew Mr. Rollings didn’t like me, and besides I wanted to stay East where there was some chance of my finding out who my parents were. I got a place as cash boy in a Japanese store and boarded with some people who lived across the hall from where the Morriseys had their rooms.