"Yes, it was rather unfortunate. You see, Mr. Glave was there and Aunt Sophia!—you should have seen her."
She proceeded to give an account of Mrs. Argand's discovery of my identity, and to take us both off.
"They didn't pay the rent, I suppose?"
"Yes. But it was not his fault—just their misfortune. His wife's illness and being out of work and all—it just piled up on top of him. A man named Ring—something—a walking-delegate whom he used to know back in the East, got down on him, and followed him up, and when he was about to get in the Union, he turned him down. And, Dad, you've just got to give him a place."
"Wringman, possibly," said Mr. Leigh. "There's a man of that name in the city who seems to be something of a leader. He's a henchman of Coll McSheen and does his dirty work for him. He has been trying to make trouble for us for some time. Send your man around to Butts to-morrow, and I'll see what we can do for him."
Eleanor ran and flung her arms around her father's neck. "Oh! Dad! If you only knew what a load you have lifted from my shoulders. I believe Heaven will bless you for this."
"I know Butts will," said Mr. Leigh, kissing her. "How's our friend, the Marvel, coming on?"
"Dad, he's a saint!"
"So I have heard before," said Mr. Leigh. "And that other one—how is he?"
"Which one?"