If he had possessed the power, he would have wiped the
whole Trevlyn race out of existence. He shut himself up in his desolate
garret with the tell-tale letters and papers which had belonged to his
mother, and there, all alone, he took a fearful oath of vengeance. The
wrongs of his parents should yet be visited on the head of the man who
had been so cruelly unpitying. He did not know what form his revenge
might take, but, so sure as he lived, it should fall some time!
* * * * *
Five years passed. Archer was fourteen years of age. He had left the
street-sweeping business some time before, at the command of Grandma
Rugg, and entered a third-class restaurant as an under-waiter. It was not
the best school in the world for good morals. The people who frequented
the Garden Rooms, as they were called, were mostly of a low class, and
all the interests and associations surrounding Arch were bad. But perhaps
he was not one to be influenced very largely by his surroundings. So the
Garden Rooms, if they did not make him better, did not make him worse.
In all these years he had kept the memory of Margie Harrison fresh and
green, though he had not seen her since the day his mother died. The
remembrance of her beauty and purity kept him oftentimes from sin; and
when he felt tempted to give utterance to oaths, her soft eyes seemed to
come between him and temptation.
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