"Can you lend me three dollars, Mrs. Sheehan?" asked Mrs. Fenton, breathless. "Mr. Mack threatens to turn us out on the sidewalk."
"I wish I could, Mrs. Fenton," said Mrs. Sheehan heartily, "but I bought my John a suit yesterday, and it's taken all my money except seventy-five cents. I'd be glad to oblige you, indeed I would."
"I've no doubt of it," sighed the widow, for it was her last hope.
"Well, have you got the money?" asked Zebulon Mack, as she reappeared.
"No, sir."
"Just what I thought. Go ahead, Finnegan."
They took up the bureau and slowly moved to the door, and down the staircase with it.
"It's a shame!" said Mrs. Sheehan, standing at her door.
"You'd better look out, ma'am! It may be your turn next," said the landlord with a scowl. "If it is I won't wait for you a minute."
"It's a hard man, you are, Mr. Mack."