A mysterious figure shuffled along the snow covered road, carrying a small basket. The lights in the nearby buildings were just starting to turn off. The figure suddenly turned to a building. Over the gate read the words: Yardley and Phern’s Orphanage. On the door was a small note that read: Please stop leaving your children on our porch. We don’t want them either. The figure set the basket down on the porch.
“I’m sorry, young one.” It whispered, knocking on the door. When the door opened, the figure was already gone.
“Goddammit!” shouted a fat red haired man with an exasperated face.
“What is it Phern?” called a tall thin man walking up behind him.
“Some dirtbag left their kid here again. That’s the fourth in the last two months!”
Phern sighed. “What should we do with ‘im, Yardley?”
“Well we can’t just leave him out there, can we? We’ll just have to take the poor pup in.” Yardley bent down and picked up the basket. “A bit heavier than I expected.” he said.
“And no wonder!” said Phern, “there’s a pouch of gold in there with ‘im! No one’s ever paid us for this before. Guess there’s a first time for everything. There’s a note in here too. Let’s see, ‘Thank you for taking my boy in. I have provided a modest sum in compensation for his care. His name is Donner.”
“Well then, it seems there are no objections to taking the boy in now, are there?” Yardley laughed.
“None at all, Yardley. None at all.”
