They found an advertisement of a diamond ring found, and started in pursuit of the finder. As Jack? said, "We might get it, you know; and if we don't, there's no harm done."
Mr. O'Connor had various other applications for the pocket-book, of which we will only describe one.
A woman dressed in black presented herself about noon.
"Is this the superintendent?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am."
"I came to see you about that pocket-book you advertise. I am a widow with six children, and I have hard work to get along. Yesterday I sent out my oldest boy to pay the rent; but he is a careless boy, and I suppose he got to playing in the street, and it fell out of his pocket. It was a great loss to me, and a widow's blessings shall rest upon you, sir, if you restore it. My boy's name is Henry, and I can bring you the best recommendations that I am a respectable woman, and my word can be relied upon."
This speech was delivered with such volubility, and with such a steady flow of words, that the superintendent had no opportunity of interrupting her.
"May I ask your name, madam?" he said at length.
"My name is Manson, sir, Mrs. Manson. My husband was an honest man,—he was a blacksmith,—but he was took down sudden with a fever about three years ago, that carried him off, and left me to get along as well as I could with my family of children. I ought to be back now; so if you'll give it to me, you can take what you like for the advertising, and to pay you for your trouble."
"You are a little too fast, Mrs. Manson. How am I to know that the pocket-book is yours?"