“John,” said Andy, linking his arm in his, “how do you happen to be in this condition?”

“Who are you?” hiccoughed John.

“I am Andy Grant.  Don’t you know me?”

“Yes, you used to be at Mr. Flint’s.  Where are you taking me?” he asked, suspiciously.

“To my room.  I will take care of you to-night.  What are you doing now?”

“I was in a place on Wall Street, but I got bounced yesterday.  I took the money they paid me and got drunk.”

“That was foolish.  Where is your uncle?”

“He has gone to Chicago.  I’m awful unlucky, Andy.”

“If you will turn over a new leaf and stop drinking I’ll see if I can’t get you another place.”

“Will you?” asked John, hopefully.  “Don’t you hate me?”

“No.”

“I should think you would.  I got you out of Flint’s.”

“You did me a service without intending it.”

“You’re a good fellow,” hiccoughed John.  “I’m sorry I treated you so mean.”

“I’m not, since it led to my securing my present place.  But we must turn down here.”

“Where do you live?”

“On Madison Avenue.”

“Madison Avenue?  You must be a swell.”

Andy smiled.

“If you work hard you may become a swell, too.”

When they entered the flat, John stared about him in amazement.

“How can you afford to live in such a fine place?” he said.

“Because a friend bears the greater part of the expense.  Now, let me help you undress.  We have a spare room, and I will let you occupy it.  In the morning I will wake you up for breakfast.”

John Crandall was soon fast asleep.  A few minutes later Mr. Gale came in.

“We have a visitor to-night,” said Andy.

“A friend of yours?”

“He may become so, but thus far he has been anything but that.”

Andy told the story of John’s attempt to injure him.

“And yet you befriend him?”

“Yes.  Wouldn’t you?”

Walter Gale smiled.

“Tell me your reasons,” he said.

“I have no grudge against him.  Besides, if we only benefit those whom we like, there isn’t much credit in that.”

“Exactly.  There isn’t much credit in my doing you favors.”

“Don’t think I am ungrateful, Mr. Gale; I appreciate all you have done for me.”

“I understand you, Andy, and I like you better for what you have done.  What further plans have you?”

“I should like to get John a place, and give him a chance to redeem himself.  He needs a friend badly.”

“He shall have one.  We will both help him.”

When John Crandall awoke the next morning he was himself again.  The effects of his intoxication had passed off, and he seemed ashamed of the predicament in which Andy had found him.

“Have you any home, John?” asked Andy.

“No; that is, I have a room, but I spent all the money that was coming to me, and they won’t let me stay.  I don’t know what I shall do,” he said, despondently.