"Hello! Who in time are yez, an’ what de yez want at this hour of the night?" he demanded.
"Are you our uncle?" a little voice asked.
"Uncle! Guess ye’ve struck the wrong spot this time. Better move on."
"But you must be our uncle," the voice insisted. "The man wot left us here said you are our Uncle Abner."
"Well, I ain’t, so that’s the end of it," was the curt reply.
At these words the two little creatures broke into a pitiful cry. Abner was helpless and in a quandary.
"What are we to do?" came the wailing question. "The man is gone and we’re lost."
"Lost, eh? Well, come in, then, till I have a look at yez."
Quickly the children obeyed, and soon were standing in the middle of the room, two forlorn objects of distress and misery. They were boys, one about seven years of age, the other five. Their clothes were ragged and their faces looked as if they had not been washed for days. But there was something about them that appealed to Abner, whose heart was always affected by the helpless and the unfortunate. The little visitors showed no sign of fear, but stood watching Abner with big, beautiful dark eyes.
"So ye’re huntin’ fer ye’r uncle, eh?" Abner queried.
"An’ he gave me this," and the boy held out a piece of soiled paper, which he had been clutching in his right hand.
Abner took the note, unfolded it, and holding it close to the light, read the following:
"If you are determined to have a Home at Ash Point, you can begin work at once. Here are two young town rats for your care. What do you think of them?"
That was all, and as Abner stood staring at the note, the light of comprehension dawned upon his mind. In fact he stood there so long that he forgot the waiting lads. He was aroused, however, by a light touch upon his arm, and a tired voice saying,
"Sure, sure, indeed yez must be hungry," Abner replied, as he turned quickly around. "Rats are allus hungry, but yez must git some of that scum off ye’r faces an’ hands before yez eat in this house. Come over here to the sink."
After a vigorous application of soap and water, the waifs presented a more respectable appearance, and Abner stepped back and viewed them critically.
"There," he panted, "guess that’ll do fer the present. But yez sartinly need a hoe an’ a scrabbin-brush upon ye’r mugs. An’ say, what’s ye’r names?"