"Won't Mrs. Burnham do?"
"Oh, no! it might be necessary for the guardian to bring suit against her."
"There ain't anybody else that I can think of," said Ralph, despairingly, after a moment's pause.
"Well, then, I don't know what we shall do. If you can't find some one who is able to qualify for this trust, we may as well stop right here. I guess we've done all we can for the boy, Mr. Craft?"
Craft nodded and smiled. He was enjoying the lawyer's diplomacy with
Ralph, exceedingly.
The lad was again in the depths of anxiety. He looked from one to the other of the men with appealing eyes.
"Ain't they some way to fix it, Mr. Sharpman?" he said. "Can't you do sumpthin' for me?"
"Oh! I couldn't be your guardian, my boy, the law wouldn't allow that; and Mr. Craft, here, hasn't money enough. I guess we'll have to give up the idea of restoring you to your mother, and let you go back to work in the breaker again."
"That'd be too bad," said the boy. "Don't do that; I couldn't stan' that—now. Can't you see my mother again, Mr. Sharpman, an' get her to take me—some way?"
"It can't be done, Ralph. There's only one way to fix it, and that is to get a guardian for you. If we can't do that, we may as well give it all up."