"Ah, then she is a little sister?"
"No, only a niece," Charles interrupted, "but I love her and I think she loved me at one time, and may still, perhaps. They say that children soon forget those they love, and, as I shall never see Ruth again, she is sure to forget me; but I shall never forget her. Do you know, old man, that that very little angel has seen me drunk. She has crept into my arms and hugged me tight when I was too drunk to know she was near. I came to myself one day when she was crying in alarm because she could not wake me up. Oh, if I could blot that out! Perhaps when Ruth is grown she will recall that, scene more vividly than any other associated with me. It is odd, but I don't feel as if I shall ever drink a drop again—the desire has left me completely. I don't know why, but it has."
"Our talk is on the wrong line to-night," Mason said, sympathetically. "You said once that it was absolutely impossible for you ever to go back to your old friends, and if that is so this talk is doing you no good at all."
"No, it is doing no good," Charles admitted. "When I think of those old days my very soul seems torn apart. Lost opportunities—the 'what might have been' but wasn't! Yes, let's talk of the present. What chance for work now?"
Mason lighted his pipe, which he had been carefully filling. "There is a chance, but not here in New York. To tell you the truth, I rather like the idea, for it is the only thing I have seen in which we could stay together."
"A chance? What is it?" Charles demanded, putting the picture back into its place.
"You may laugh, but this monotony is killing me, and I am thinking seriously of taking the plunge," Mason said, as he puffed away. "I want you to come, but not if you don't like it. This morning I met a man in Union Square who told me he was taking a week off from a job with a traveling circus and menagerie. It is now in Philadelphia. It will be in Newark, New Jersey, the day after to-morrow. He says men who are willing to do hard manual labor can always get employment, good food, fair sleeping-quarters on the train, and two dollars a day promptly paid. I've always liked outdoor work. The thing fairly charms me, for I want to see more of the country, but I don't want to throw you over. I've got used to you. I'd be lost without you. I've never had a real pal before."
Charles lighted his own pipe. He frowned as if in deep reflection. "I'm going to be frank," he said, presently. "I am like you. I like the idea of that sort of life immensely, and I am dying of dry rot. But I am wondering, would a man—well, a man like me, for instance—be as safe there as here."
"Safer, in my opinion," Mason declared, eagerly. "In a roundabout way I dug it out of the chap that many of the hangers-on were fellows who, for different reasons, were dodging officers of the law. He said he did not like that feature of the life, but that you don't have to associate with them unless you like. Gosh! you know, I like the idea, and I wish you did!"
"Newark, day after to-morrow," Charles said, thoughtfully. "That's close. Well, I'll think it over. It looks inviting, doesn't it? Yes, I'll think it over. What will we have to do?"