“Surely father don’t mean to keep me out!” said he to himself.  “He wouldn’t do that.  Where am I to go for shelter at this hour?”

And again he pulled the bell, causing it to ring longer and louder than before.  Then he leaned close to the door and listened, but no sound reached his ears.  Growing impatient, he next tried knocking.  All his efforts to gain admission, however, proved unavailing; and ceasing at last to ring or knock, he sat down upon the stone steps, and covering his face with his hands, wept bitterly.  For over a quarter of an hour he remained seated at the threshold of his father’s house, from which he had been excluded.  During that period, much of his previous life passed in review before him, and the conclusions of the boy’s mind were at last expressed in these words—­

“I believe father hates the very sight of me!  He says I’m going to ruin, and so I am; but he is driving me there.  What does he think I’m going to do, to-night?  If he cared for me, would he let me sleep in the streets?  I have tried to do right, but it was of no use.  When I tried the hardest, he was the crossest, and made me do wrong whether I would or not.  I don’t care what becomes of me now!”

As Andrew uttered these last words, a reckless spirit seized him, and starting up, he walked away with a firm step.  But he had gone only a block or two, before his mind again became oppressed with a sense of his houseless condition, and pausing, he murmured, in a sad under tone—­

“Where shall I go?”

For a little while he stood irresolute, and then moved on again.  For several squares farther he walked, with no definite purpose in his mind, when he came to a row of three or four unfinished houses, the door of one of which was partially opened; at least so much so, that it was only necessary to pull off a narrow strip of board in order to effect an entrance.  With the sight of these houses came the suggestion to the mind of Andrew that he might find a place to sleep therein for the night, and acting upon this, he passed up the plank leading to the door least securely fastened, and soon succeeded in getting it open.  But, just as he stepped within, a heavy hand was laid upon him from behind, and a rough voice said—­

“What are you doing here, sir?”

Turning, Andrew found himself in the custody of a policeman.

For a few moments every power of mind and body forsook the unhappy boy, and he stood shrinking and stammering before the officer—­thus confirming a suspicion of intended incendiarism in the mind of that functionary.

“Come! you must go with me.”  And the officer commenced moving down the plank that connected the door with the ground, drawing Andrew after him.

“I was only going to sleep there,” said the frightened boy, as soon as the power of speech had returned.

“Of course,” returned the policeman, “I understand all that.  But I’ll find a better place in which you can spend the night.  So come along with me.”