“Well, yes, middling; but as obstinate as a mule.  When he gets his mind set on a thing, it’s no use to try to budge him.  I’ve whipped him till he was black and blue, and it didn’t do a penny’s worth of good.”

“You should have used moral suasion, Craft; that’s the way to treat boys.  Get their confidence, and then you can handle them.  Well, we’ll get Ralph’s mind fixed on the fact that he is Mrs. Burnham’s son, and see how he’ll stick to that.  Hark!  There they come now.  Sooner than I expected.”

The outer door of the office was opened, and Ralph and the young man entered.  The messenger disappeared into the inner room, but after a minute or two he came out and ushered Ralph into the presence of the lawyer.  Sharpman arose, greeted the boy pleasantly and shook hands with him, and Ralph thought that lawyers were not such forbidding people after all.

“Do you recognize this gentleman?” said Sharpman, turning, with a wave of his hand, toward old Simon.

The old man was sitting there with his hands crossed on his cane, and with a grim smile on his gaunt face.  Ralph looked intently, for a moment, into the shadow, and then, with an exclamation of surprise and fear on his lips, he stepped back toward the door.

“I won’t go!” he cried; “don’t make me go back with him, sir!” turning his distressed face to the lawyer, as he spoke.

Sharpman advanced and took the boy by the hand and led him to a chair.  “Don’t be afraid,” he said, gently, “there’s no cause for alarm.  You shall not go back with him.  He is not here to take you back, but to establish your identity.”

Then a new fear dawned upon Ralph’s mind.

“He ain’t my grandfather!” he exclaimed.  “Simon Craft ain’t my grandfather.  He wouldn’t never ‘a’ whipped me the way he done if he’d a-been truly my grandfather.”

Craft looked up at Sharpman with a little nod.  The boy had identified him pretty plainly, and proved the truth of his story to that extent at least.

“Oh, no!” said the lawyer, “oh, no!  Mr. Craft is not your grandfather; he doesn’t claim to be.  He has come here only to do you good.  Now, be calm and reasonable, and listen to what we have to tell you, and, my word for it, you will go back to Billy Buckley’s to-night with a heart as light as a feather.  Now, you’ll take my advice, and do that much, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will,” said Ralph, settling himself into his chair, “I will, if I can only find out about my father ‘n’ mother.  But I won’t go back to live with him; I won’t never go back there!”

“Oh, no!” replied Sharpman, “we’ll find a better home for you than Mr. Craft could ever give you.  Now, if you will sit still and listen to us, and take our advice, we will tell you more things about yourself than you have ever thought of knowing.  You want to hear them, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” replied Ralph, smiling and rapidly regaining his composure; “yes, of course.”