The real reason is that he thinks I was gettin' too much money.Work is done so rough nowadays that chaps like Sawkins is good enough for most of it.Hunter shoved me off just because I was getting the top money, and you'll see I won't be the only one.'

`I'm afraid you're right,' returned Owen.`Did you see Rushton when you went for your money?'

`Yes,' replied Linden.`I hurried up as fast as I could, but Hunter was there first.He passed me on his bike before I got half-way, so Isuppose he told his tale before I came.Anyway, when I started to speak to Mr Rushton he wouldn't listen.Said he couldn't interfere between Mr Hunter and the men.#1

Owen did not feel very confident of that.Most of the people he knew who had prospered were very similar in character to the two worthies in question.However, he did not want to argue with this poor old woman.

`When Tom was called up to go to the war,' said the young woman, bitterly, 'Mr Rushton shook hands with him and promised to give him a job when he came back.But now that poor Tom's gone and they know that me and the children's got no one to look to but Father, they do THIS.'

Although at the mention of her dead son's name old Mrs Linden was evidently distressed, she was still mindful of the Atheist's presence, and hastened to rebuke her daughter-in-law.

`You shouldn't say we've got no one to look to, Mary,' she said.

`We're not as them who are without God and without hope in the world.

The Lord is our shepherd.He careth for the widow and the fatherless.'

Owen was very doubtful about this also.He had seen so many badly cared-for children about the streets lately, and what he remembered of his own sorrowful childhood was all evidence to the contrary.

An awkward silence succeeded.Owen did not wish to continue this conversation: he was afraid that he might say something that would hurt the old woman.Besides, he was anxious to get away; he began to feel cold in his wet clothes.

As he put his empty cup on the table he said:

`Well, I must be going.They'll be thinking I'm lost, at home.'

The kitten had finished all the bread and milk and was gravely washing its face with one of its forepaws, to the great admiration of the two children, who were sitting on the floor beside it.It was an artful-looking kitten, all black, with a very large head and a very small body.It reminded Owen of a tadpole.

`Do you like cats?' he asked, addressing the children.

`Yes,' said the boy.`Give it to us, will you, mister?'

`Oh, do leave it 'ere, mister,' exclaimed the little girl.`I'll look after it.'

`So will I,' said the boy.

`But haven't you one of your own?' asked Owen.

`Yes; we've got a big one.'

`Well, if you have one already and I give you this, then you'd have two cats, and I'd have none.That wouldn't be fair, would it?'

`Well, you can 'ave a lend of our cat for a little while if you give us this kitten,' said the boy, after a moment's thought.

`Why would you rather have the kitten?'

`Because it would play: our cat don't want to play, it's too old.'

`Perhaps you're too rough with it,' returned Owen.

`No, it ain't that; it's just because it's old.'

`You know cats is just the same as people,' explained the little girl, wisely.`When they're grown up I suppose they've got their troubles to think about.'

Owen wondered how long it would be before her troubles commenced.As he gazed at these two little orphans he thought of his own child, and of the rough and thorny way they would all three have to travel if they were so unfortunate as to outlive their childhood.

`Can we 'ave it, mister?' repeated the boy.

Owen would have liked to grant the children's request, but he wanted the kitten himself.Therefore he was relieved when their grandmother exclaimed: