n the street at all. Poor little
Patsy, his crutches were once a familiar sight going up and down the
pavements on pleasant days in the summer time, but they had thought
never to see him leave his room again. Did David know? Some one should
stop the child; he was too weak to wander out alone like that. But
then, it was no affair of theirs; David could probably be trusted to
look after the boy.

As no one was willing to make it his business to interfere, Patsy went
on his way unmolested. A strange look of determination battled with the
pain on the sickly, childish face as he made his way bravely against the
biting wind that sought to drive him back. He had learned the mystery of
the house on the hill; he knew now why David hated so bitterly that
house and all connected with it; he knew why David was willing and eager
to help the men in the plan they were to carry out that night. David had
told him all about it, and for the first time in his life he had felt
afraid of this dearly loved brother of his. It had been a revelation to
Pasty. Surely, this bitter, unforgiving, revengeful man could not be the
same who had been father, mother and big brother to the little cripple
for whom he had cared so tenderly since their mother had been taken from
them.

It had sounded like a fairy tale to Patsy; he could scarcely believe his
own ears. Just to think of it; that brown house on the hill had once
been their mother's home, and the man who lived there, the man whom
David hated with undying hatred, was their mother's brother and their
uncle. On the day she married, she had left her home forever, her
brother vowing that never as long as he lived would he set eyes upon her
face again; to him she would be as though dead. Once, when father lay
dying (Patsy could not remember it, but David had told him of it),
mother had written to their uncle imploring a little help in their
misery. It was not for herself she had asked but for the dying husband
and sickly baby. Her letter had been returned to her with these harsh
words written on the back: "Some mistake here. No woman has the right to
call me brother. My only sister died years ago." David had kept the
letter ever since; he had been old enough at the time to understand. He
had vowed then to have revenge some day and he kept the letter to remind
him of the vow should he ever be in danger of forgetting it.

Patsy knew now why his brother so hated the house on the hill, and why
David had