s of terror. "I don't know. There's
something wrong with him. Oh, what'll I do? What'll I do?"

"I'll get a doctor," cried Elizabeth, darting towards the door. Her
heavy fur stole slipped from her shoulders, but she took no notice of
it. She fled out into the night and went stumbling once more over the
garbage heaps of the dark alley.

Mr. MacAllister had come in late for his supper that evening, and Mrs.
Dalley's latest dining-room maid had served him with an air of cold
reproach that almost gave that kind-hearted young man an attack of
indigestion. He hurried away from the uncomfortable atmosphere, and
found that his room-mate had gone out. He did not go to his books at
once, but sat in their one easy-chair, his hands deep in his pockets,
staring at his boots. John always declared the Pretender drew his
inspiration therefrom, for after any prolonged study of those
goodly-sized appendages he always arose and accomplished something
startling. This time his meditation was longer than usual; his mind
was on the lecture of that afternoon. Finally he arose and drew from
the table a writing-pad. He wrote a long letter, and as he sealed it
his dark eyes shone. For he knew that away up in a little northern
valley, a woman with a sweet wistful face, who had waited for the
message that letter contained, many long anxious years, was still
waiting for it, and its coming would fill her heart with joy and
thankfulness.

He had just finished when he heard his chum come thundering up the
stairs. He looked up with laughing expectation. He knew by the manner
of John's ascent that there was something grand and glorious doing.

"What's up now? You came up that stairs like an automobilly-goat. Is
the house on fire?"

John leaped across the room, threw his cap upon the floor, and had
poured out his good news before he got his overcoat off.

"Isn't that the dandiest luck?" he finished up. "I've just been down
at Huntley's office. He telephoned just before supper. And I'm to
have all expenses paid beside, and nothing but Dagoes and Chinamen to
dope." He had taken off his boots by this time and was rummaging in
the bedroom for his slippers, never pausing a moment in his talk.

"Huntley's a gentleman all right, isn't he? Of course, it's all 'cause
he's so sweet on Lizzie; but I'm mighty thankful his sweetness came in
my direction. A chap like you, with one of the best farms in Ontario
at his back, can't have any i