“Shame, shame,” cried the lawyer, as the old man toppled back in his bed and covered his face with his hands. “Shame on a man who would torment a dying father. You are a brute, Benson, and I am glad you have been foiled.” The younger man’s passion had spent itself, and George realized that he had made a bad break; that he had lost his temper and forgotten that he might undo the deed done that day. He turned upon his heel and ran out of the room. “I do not want to be left alone,” moaned Mr. Benson. “There is no telling what he might do to me in that temper, and to think that my little girl has been here, maybe time and time again, and I did not know it. Oh, my good friend, you must help me find her.” The lawyer, promising and saying that he would leave instructions with Mr. Benson’s valet and that he would take the new will with him, for fear it would be tampered with, went away. After that everything known to science and law was done to bring the old man and his daughter together. The doctor gave tonics, and the lawyer advertised for the girl. George Benson bitterly regretted his rash speech, for he had opened avenues whereby the chance of his regaining his old position was gone. One day he stole into the library and looked hastily about. “I’ve got to have money, and I might as well take these diamonds,” he said to himself. “There is no telling how soon I shall be ordered from the mansion. What tommy rot all this bustle is, for they won’t find the girl--or, at least, I hope they won’t.” Saying this, he slipped his fingers into a private panel in the wall and pulled out a small box and looked greedily at the contents. “Abe Nathans will give me at least a thousand on these, and let me out of some of the worry he has given me before.” Out of the room he went slyly, and hid the box in his pocket. “I am not going to be without money,” said he as he was again in his room safely with the trinkets. “If the old man doesn’t realize that I am to have a certain amount, then I will take it myself.” * * * * * Three months had elapsed since Tom Cooper had left the big bank, and nothing had been heard of him, save that he had gone to sea. There were many times the old man felt that he had wronged the boy in sending him away without a word of explanation, but his heart was so full of finding Annie that he had no place for even Tom, and the doctor and lawyer had it so arranged that George could not see his uncle at all. If the old man had only known the truth about his young ward he would have inserted an advertisement for him in the paper. But not knowing, Tom Cooper was allowed to come into the city without a friend to meet him, and his boat landed one evening just at dusk, and he had not yet received his month’s pay. So, thinking that he needed a little money, he rolled up a suit of clothes and walked toward the nearest pawn shop. Before he had done this another young man had gone in the same direction.