when they were tossed into the drawer and now smelled mouldy and dirty. His eyes filled with tears as he looked about the room, and he felt blindly for the door, and blinked the tears away and looked out. The hall was empty, and he went noiselessly down the stairs, but stopped half way. A servant passed below him without noticing him, and he heard Beman's voice speaking to the servant.
He stopped still and considered. There was something aggressively forceful in Beman's voice even when he spoke of ordinary things. He had been intending to run away from Beman, but the old man's tone made suddenly plain to him the futility of that. He had run away a dozen times from a dozen different institutions. They had always caught him, although they had had no more reason for searching for him than the mere routine transaction of their business. They would, he had learned fully, always catch him in the end. Beman, who had more reason for catching him than the authorities had, and who could use their agents besides others of his own, would catch him too if he was
