blication--not in the captain's
hearing.

Captain Holt now consulted the glass, picked up his cap bearing the
insignia of his rank, and went out through the kitchen to the land side
of the house. The sky and sea--feathery clouds and still, oily
flatness--did not interest him this September morning. It was the
rolling dune that caught his eye, and the straggly path that threaded
its way along the marshes and around and beyond the clump of scrub
pines and bushes until it was lost in the haze that hid the village.
This land inspection had been going on for a month, and always when Tod
was returning from the post-office with the morning mail. The men had
noticed it, but no one had given vent to his thoughts.

Tod, of course, knew the cause of the captain's impatience, but no one
of the others did, not even Archie; time enough for that when the
Swede's story was proved true. If the fellow had lied that was an end
to it; if he had told the truth Bart would answer, and the mystery be
cleared up. This same silence had been maintained toward Jane and the
doctor; better not raise hopes he could not verify--certainly not in
Jane's breast.

Not that he had much hope himself; he dared not hope. Hope meant a prop
to his old age; hope meant joy to Jane, who would welcome the prodigal;
hope meant relief to the doctor, who could then claim his own; hope
meant redemption for Lucy, a clean name for Archie, and honor to
himself and his only son.

No wonder, then, that he watched for an answer to his letter with
feverish impatience. His own missive had been blunt and to the point,
asking the direct question: "Are you alive or dead, and if alive, why
did you fool me with that lie about your dying of fever in a hospital
and keep me waiting all these years?" Anything more would have been
superfluous in the captain's judgment--certainly until he received some
more definite information as to whether the man was his son.

Half a dozen times this lovely September morning the captain had
strolled leisurely out of the back door and had mounted the low hillock
for a better view. Suddenly a light flashed in his face, followed by a
look in his eyes that they had not known for weeks--not since the Swede
left. The light came when his glance fell upon Tod's lithe figure
swinging along the road; the look kindled when he saw Tod stop and wave
his hand triumphantly over his head.

The letter had arrived!

With a movement as quick as that of a horse