Austen having gone to the station, Dr. Tredway had received
Mr. Flint in the darkened hall, and had promised to telephone to
Fairview the verdict of the specialist. At present Dr. Tredway did not
think it wise to inform Hilary of Mr. Flint's visit--not, at least,
until after the examination.

Mr. Vane exhibited the same silent stoicism on receiving the verdict
of Dr. Harmon as he had shown from the first. With the clew to Hilary's
life which Dr. Tredway had given him, the New York physician understood
the case; one common enough in his practice in a great city where the
fittest survive--sometimes only to succumb to unexpected and irreparable
blows in the evening of life.

On his return from seeing Dr. Harmon off Austen was met on the porch by
Dr. Tredway.

"Your father has something on his mind," said the doctor, "and perhaps
it is just as well that he should be relieved. He is asking for you,
and I merely wished to advise you to make the conversation as short as
possible."

Austen climbed the stairs in obedience to this summons, and stood before
his father at the bedside. Hilary lay, back among the pillows, and the
brightness of that autumn noonday only served to accentuate the pallor
of his face, the ravages of age which had come with such incredible
swiftness, and the outline of a once vigorous frame. The eyes alone
shone with a strange new light, and Austen found it unexpectedly
difficult to speak. He sat down on the bed and laid his hand on the
helpless one that rested on the coverlet.

"Austen," said Mr. Vane, "I want you to go to Fairview."

His son's hand tightened over his own.

"Yes, Judge."

"I want you to go now."

"Yes, Judge."

"You know the combination of my safe at the office. It's never been
changed since--since you were there. Open it. You will find two tin
boxes, containing papers labelled Augustus P. Flint. I want you to take
them to Fairview and put them into the hands of Mr. Flint himself. I--I
cannot trust any one else. I promised to take them myself, but--Flint
will understand."

"I'll go right away," said Austen, rising, and trying to speak
cheerfully. "Mr. Flint was here early this morning--inquiring for you."

Hilary Vane's lips trembled, and another expression came into his eyes.

"Rode down to look at the scrap-heap,--did he?"

Austen strove to conceal his surprise at his father's words and change
of manner.

"Tredway saw him," he said. "I'm pretty sure Mr. Flint doesn't