ther than to me, the bastard son of a
dastard father. I have, therefore, morally no claim whatsoever to this
inheritance, and I will never touch a farthing of it. Oh, why," he went
on bitterly, "was I not told, years ago, my true history? Had I always
known it, the burden of shame which is my only lawful inheritance would
have gradually adjusted itself to my strength, and would not now have
such crushing weight. It is the contrast between what I thought I was
and what I am that is the bitterest ingredient in my cup of misery."

"I deserve your reproaches, my poor boy," said Richard Dudley,
sorrowfully; "but Heaven is my witness that my only motive in keeping
this from you was to spare you shame and sorrow."

"Ah, I know that," cried Abner, "and it is ungrateful and cowardly to
reproach you, my more than father. It was the suddenness of the shock
that made me utter that unmanly plaint. Forgive me. I know you have
been actuated in all that you have done by your regard for me."

"As to this inheritance," said Dudley presently, "it is lawfully yours.
It was left to your mother, and you inherit it, not directly from
Andrew Hite, but from her."

"No, no! The whole tenor of the will was to cut me out of all share in
the estate. It would be infamous in me, knowing what I do, to claim it.
Besides, my mother died before coming into possession of this property.
How, then, could I inherit through her, when it was never actually
hers?"

"Who, then, is heir under the will?" argued Dudley. "Not Sarah Pepper;
for it is clearly set forth in the document that she inherits only
under the condition that your mother be dead, leaving no legitimate
heirs, before the date of the will."

"Then, the will must be declared null and void," firmly asserted the
young man. "It is a mad will, anyway."

"In that case," retorted the doctor, "you being the only child of your
mother, the next of kin, are, as you once pointed out, the rightful
heir--at least, you are co-heir with Sarah Pepper."

But Abner stoutly adhered to his determination to have nothing to do
with the property. It, therefore, became imperative to ascertain the
whereabouts of Sarah Jane Pepper, or her heirs, if any.

That night Abner looked through his mother's papers. He found several
letters beginning, "My Darling Wife:--" or, "My Own Mary:--." The
signature to each of these epistles was, "Your affectionate husband,
John Logan." The tone of each letter was thoughtful tender,