joy.

"Min, dear," he said gently, "you have been hurt--not seriously, I
hope. I must leave you for a minute while I run for help--I will not
be long."

"Come back," said Min in a low but distinct tone.

He paused impatiently.

"It is of no use to get help," Min went on calmly. "I'm dying--I know
it. Oh, my God!"

She pressed her hand to her side and writhed. Telford turned
desperately to the door. Min raised her arm.

"Come here," she said resolutely.

He obeyed mutely. She looked up at him with bright, unquailing eyes.

"Don't you go one step--don't leave me here to die alone. I'm past
help--and I've something to say to you. I must say it and I haven't
much time."

Telford hardly heeded her in his misery.

"Min, let me go for help--let me do something," he implored. "You must
not die--you must not!"

Min had fallen back, gasping, on the blood-stained pillow.

He knelt beside her and put his arm about the poor, crushed body.

"I must hurry," she said faintly. "I can't die with it on my mind.
Rose--it's all hers--all. There was a will--he made it--old Gran'ther
Palmer. He always hated me. I found it before he died--and read it. He
left everything to her--not a cent to me nor his son's child--we were
to starve--beg. I was like a madwoman. When he died--I hid the will. I
meant--to burn it--but I never could. It's tortured me--night and
day--I've had no peace. You'll find it in a box--in my room. Tell
her--tell Rose--how wicked I've been. And my boy--what will become of
him? Rose hates him--she'll turn him out--or ill-treat him--"

Telford lifted his white, drawn face.

"I will take your child, Min. He shall be to me as my own son."

An expression of unspeakable relief came into the dying woman's face.

"It is good--of you. I can die--in peace--now. I'm glad to die--to get
clear of it all. I'm tired--of living so. Perhaps--I'll have a
chance--somewhere else. I've never--had any--here."

The dark eyes drooped--closed. Telford moaned shudderingly.

Once again Min opened her eyes and looked straight into his.

"If I had met you--long ago--you would have--loved me--and I would
have been--a good woman. It is well for us--for you--that I am--dying.
Your path will be clear--you will be good and successful--but you will
always--remember me."

Telford bent and pressed his lips to Min's pain-blanched mouth.

"Do you think--we will--ever meet again?" she said faintly. "Out
there--it's so dark--God can nev