squire sincere.

"I cannot afford a trip," sighed Mrs. Nelson. "Besides--I--I--sometimes
think that Ralph may come back," she faltered.

"Never, in this life, widow," returned the squire, solemnly. "Alas! the
dead never return, no matter how much we love them."

"Sometimes they do, Squire Paget!" cried a young voice from the open
doorway, and Ralph sprang into the room. "Mother!"

"Ralph, my son!" screamed Mrs. Nelson. "Thank Heaven for its many mercies!"

And she thew herself into Ralph's arms, while the tears of sorrow were
quickly turned to tears of joy.

Squire Paget was dumbfounded. He stared at Ralph as if the boy was an
apparition.

"Is it really you, Ralph?" he stammered at last.

"Sure, an' it is, Heaven bless him!" put in Mrs. Corcoran.

"And where have you been, Ralph?" cried Mrs. Nelson, when she could again
speak.

"I have been in New York. You would have heard from me before had not that
villain stolen the letter I sent."

"Villain, Ralph----"

"Yes, villain, mother. Squire Paget is the blackest-hearted wretch in
Westville."

"What's this, and to me!" ejaculated the squire.

"Yes, to you, Squire Paget, you mean, contemptible coward!" returned the
boy, boldly. "Look at him, mother, and see him quail while I tell you of
all he has done."

"I have done nothing," faltered the squire, but he looked as if he wished
to sink through the floor.

"He hired two men to throw me over the cliff on Tree Top Island, and when
they failed, he got one of the men to follow me to New York and try to put
me out of existence there."

"Oh, Ralph, I cannot believe it!"

"It is all true, mother. Here is Mr. Kelsey, and he will tell you the
same."

"This is preposterous----" began the squire, faintly, but Ralph cut him
short.

"It is all true. The man who followed me to New York was Martin Thomas. He
is now in jail and has confessed all."

The squire tottered as if struck a blow. He tried to speak, but the words
would not come.

"And do you know why he did it?" went on Ralph. "He had the missing papers,
and wished to get hold of our property here. But the missing papers we have
found----"

"Found!"

The squire managed to gasp out the single word.

"Yes, found. They were in a registered letter sent by Squire Paget to some
friend in New York. They were stolen by the post office thieves, who are
now in custody. And, by the way, squire, shall I tell you who the thieves
were? Dock Brady, a man named Cas