crisis struck through a weak place in the harness and pierced him. He hated the thought of telling that child what he had to tell. And, worse, he hated the growing probability that the child would tire of the dining-room and come to find his mother. So, after a moment's reflection, he compromised with his duty and put it off. He stepped into the hall, locked the study door behind him, and put the key in his pocket. Then he went into the dining-room.
"Tom," he said, "I am going to take you to visit two little children up the street. And see, we'll take all these nuts and raisins, and you can play at dinner parties till I come for you." He held out his hand, and little Beauling slid off his chair and took it.
First they crossed the road, and Judge Tyler left little Beauling in the front yard of the house opposite. He himself went in and spoke to the doctor, whose house it was, giving him the key to the study door and asking him to go and look after the dead woman. Then Judge Ty-
