"Is it you, Frank?" he said. "I'm glad you've come to see me. But how did you find me out?"
"Johnny O'Connor told me where you lived. How long have you been sick?"
"Three days. It's rough on a poor boy like me. I ought to be earning money for my mother."
"We'll miss Tom's wages badly," said Mrs. Brady; "I can't earn much myself, and there's three of us to feed, let alone the rint."
"How did you get off, Frank?" asked Tom.
"I've left the office."
"Was this young gentleman a telegraph boy?" asked Mrs. Brady, in surprise.
"Yes," said Tom; "but he's come into a fortune, and now he won't have to work."
"I'm sure I'm glad of his good luck, and it's a great condescension for a rich young gentleman to come and see my Tom."
"I have come into some money, but not a fortune, Mrs. Brady," said Frank; "but it does not make me any better than when I was a poor telegraph boy."