He talked with me quite a lot, and finally asked me
to come to live with him and take a position in his office when I got older."
"And you were glad to go?"
"Naturally. My life was not a pleasant one."
"Did he ever talk to you about that old life?"
"Often. He asked me lots of questions about my parents."
"And what did you tell him?"
"There was noting to tell. I could not remember my parents. At first there
was Mother Scanlon, who beat me as often as she fed me, and then I was on
the streets, sleeping in alleys and stairways."
"Have you seen this Mother Scanlon lately?" was the next question.
"Never, but why are you asking me all these questions? I'm no fairy prince
under enchantment. Just a waif left alone in New York. There are plenty such."
"I want you to look Mother Scanlon up when you get back to New York" Nestor said.
He might have given some reason for the remark, only Jimmie and Frank awoke and
called attention to signals on the mountain.
"I know that wig-wag game," the latter said. "Keep still and I'll tell you what he says."
Four pair of eyes were instantly fixed on the heights above, where a slender
column of flame, like a torch on fire most of its length, was plainly to be
seen. It was not a stationary column, however, for it moved to right and left
in an arc of ninety degrees, starting at vertical and swinging back of it. At
times the point was lowered, as if the column had been dipped to the ground in front.
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