"Your son," answered the boy. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. " "Hoddy," she repeated. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. "But I like Bobby Burns best. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. We WERE thieves. Wherever I saw him, I should pick him out as a man designed by nature to plan and accomplish the wonderful escapes he has effected.
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