He had gone but a dozen steps from the depot when a plausible stranger of thirty-five years, apparently, stopped him.
"Young man, may I have a word with you?" he asked.
"If you wish."
"I speak to you, because I judge from your appearance that you have a good, kind heart."
"I hope you are right, sir."
"I am very awkwardly placed. My sister is very sick in Yonkers and has sent for me. On my way to the depot in a horse car I had my pocket picked, and I have not enough money to get to the bedside of my poor sister. If you would kindly lend me a quarter—"
Andy was kind-hearted, and he was not versed in city wiles. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a twenty-five-cent silver coin.
"I am glad to help you," he said, as he passed the coin to the applicant.
"You have a noble heart. I thank you," said the stranger, feelingly.
Andy felt pleased to think that he had done the man a favor, but his satisfaction was short-lived.