"'Where ignorance is bliss,' you know the rest,
And a still tongue is generally the best."
"Oh, no, indeed! the boy shall hear nothing of the kind from me. I am
very much obliged to you, however, for the true story of the matter."
Under the circumstances Sharpman was outdoing himself in politeness,
but he could not well outdo Rhyming Joe. The young man extended his
hand to the lawyer with a respectful bow.
"I shall long remember your extreme kindness and courtesy," he said.
"Henceforth the spider of a friendship true,
Shall weave its silken web twixt me and you."
My dear sir, I wish you a very good night!"
"Good-night!"
The young man placed his silk hat jauntily on his head, and passed
through the outer office, whistling a low tune; out at the street door
and down the walk; out into the gay world of dissipation, down into
the treacherous depths of crime; one more of the many who have chained
bright intellects to the chariot wheels of vice, and have been dragged
through dust and mire to final and to irretrievable disaster.
A moment later a boy arose from a chair in the outer office and
staggered out into the street. It was Ralph. He had heard it all.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ANGEL WITH THE SWORD.
Ralph had entered the office just as Rhyming Joe reached the point of
his disclosure. He had heard him declare, in emphatic tones: "I say
the boy Ralph is not Robert Burnham's son."
It was as though some one had struck him.
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