"He came into the yard one day looking very thin and miserable. My sister and I took him something to eat, and after that he followed us everywhere, so we begged to be allowed to keep him."
"You begged your father, didn't you?" Ruth asked.
"Yes."
"And he let you keep him. He must have been a very nice man, a very nice man indeed," decided Ruth with a glance at Billy.
"He was a nice man, my dear; the kindest in the world. It was his kind-heartedness that lost us the old home," Miss Brackenbury sighed.
"Why?"
"I don't know that you would understand; but he raised money to help a friend out of difficulties, and, though I am quite certain he paid back all that he owed, after his death, I could find no record of any payment and the man from whom the money was borrowed insisted upon payment. It took nearly everything."
"What a dreadful, selfish man not to let you keep your house," said Ruth savagely. "I'd like to crush him down to the earth and stamp on him."
"Why, Ruth, what a terrible way to talk."
"I would, I would," declared Ruth. "If he was a wicked man, why shouldn't I want to? The children of Israel liked to kill wicked people and idolaters; I know that man is an idolater; I'll bet he has a brazen image."