ground.

"I believe you are the Head Ranger," said my father, who saw that he was
still smooth-faced and had light hair. "I am Professor Panky, and here
is my permit. My brother Professor has been prevented from coming with
me, and, as you see, I am alone."

My father had professed to pass himself off as Panky, for he had rather
gathered that Hanky was the better known man of the two.

While the youth was scrutinising the permit, evidently with suspicion, my
father took stock of him, and saw his own past self in him too
plainly--knowing all he knew--to doubt whose son he was. He had the
greatest difficulty in hiding his emotion, for the lad was indeed one of
whom any father might be proud. He longed to be able to embrace him and
claim him for what he was, but this, as he well knew, might not be. The
tears again welled into his eyes when he told me of the struggle with
himself that he had then had.

"Don't be jealous, my dearest boy," he said to me. "I love you quite as
dearly as I love him, or better, but he was sprung upon me so suddenly,
and dazzled me with his comely debonair face, so full of youth, and
health, and frankness. Did you see him, he would go straight to your
heart, for he is wonderfully like you in spite of your taking so much
after your poor mother."

I was not jealous; on the contrary, I longed to see this youth, and find
in him such a brother as I had often wished to have. But let me return
to my father's story.

The young man, after examining the permit, declared it to be in form, and
returned it to my father, but he eyed him with polite disfavour.

"I suppose," he said, "you have come up, as so many are doing, from
Bridgeford and all over the country, to the dedication on Sunday."

"Yes," said my father. "Bless me!" he added, "what a wind you have up
here! How it makes one's eyes water, to be sure;" but he spoke with a
cluck in his throat which no wind that blows can cause.

"Have you met any suspicious characters between here and the statues?"
asked the youth. "I came across the ashes of a fire lower down; there
had been three men sitting for some time round it, and they had all been
eating quails. Here are some of the bones and feathers, which I shall
keep. They had not been gone more than a couple of hours, for the ashes
were still warm; they are getting bolder and bolder--who would have
thought they would dare to light a fire? I suppose you have not met any
one; but if y