He was sitting in his accustomed chair, facing the dying embers of a little wood fire that he had built, for the morning was a chilly one.

Behind him the door was opened and some one entered the room from the street.  He thought it was Bachelor Billy, just come from work, and he straightened up in his chair and tried to wipe away the traces of tears from his face before he should turn to give him greeting.

“Is that you, Uncle Billy?” he said; “ain’t you home early?”

He was still rubbing industriously at his eyes.  Receiving no answer he looked around.

It was not Uncle Billy.  It was Simon Craft.

Ralph uttered a cry of surprise and terror, and retreated into a corner of the room.  Old Simon, looking at him maliciously from under his bushy brows, gradually extended his thin lips into a wicked smile.

“What!” he exclaimed, “is it possible that you are afraid of your affectionate old grandfather?  Why, I thought you desired nothing so much as to go and live with him and be his pet.”

The boy’s worst fears were realized.  Old Simon had come for him.

“I won’t go back with you!” he cried.  “I won’t!  I won’t!” Then, changing his tone to one of appealing, he continued:  “You didn’t come for me, did you, gran’pa? you won’t make me go back with you, will you?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do without you any longer,” said Craft, coming nearer and looking Ralph over carefully.  “I’m getting old and sick, and your presence will be a great comfort to me in my declining years.  Besides, my affection for you is so great that I feel that I couldn’t do without you; oh, I couldn’t, I couldn’t possibly!” And the old man actually chuckled himself into a fit of coughing at his grim sarcasm.

“But I don’t want to go,” persisted the boy.  “I’m very happy here.  Uncle Billy’s very good to me, an’ I’d ruther stay, a good deal ruther.”

At the mention of Uncle Billy’s name Old Simon’s smile vanished and he advanced threateningly toward the boy, striking his cane repeatedly on the floor.

“It don’t matter what you want,” he said, harshly; “you were crazy to be my grandson; now the law says you are, and the law gives me the right to take you and do what I choose with you.  Oh, you’ve got to go! so get your hat and come along, and don’t let’s have any more nonsense about it!”

“Gran’pa—­Gran’pa Simon!” exclaimed the terrified boy, shrinking still farther away, “I can’t go back to Philadelphy, I can’t!  I couldn’t live, I’d die if I went back there!  I’d—­”

Craft interrupted him:  “Well, if you do die, it won’t be because you’re killed with kindness, I warrant you.  You’ve cheated me out of a living and yourself out of a fortune; you’ve made your own bed, now you’ve got to lie in it.  Come on, I say! get your hat and come along!”

The old man was working himself into a passion.  There was danger in his eyes.  Ralph knew it, too, but the thought of going back to live with Simon Craft was such a dreadful one to him that he could not refrain from further pleading.