-Where is Richard?"

"No one knows."

"Not even you, Betty?"

"No; he has dropped out of the world as completely as you did."

"Well, it will be all right, anyway. Father will withdraw his charge
and--did you say his bank was going to pieces? He must have help. I
can help him. You can help him, Betty."

"How?"

Then Peter told Betty how he had found Richard's father in his
mountain retreat and that she must write to him. "If there is any
danger of the bank's going, write for me to Larry Kildene. Father
never would appeal to him if he lost everything in the world, so we
must do it. As soon as I am out of here we can save him." Already he
felt himself a new man, and spoke hopefully and cheerfully. He little
knew the struggle still before him.

"Peter, father and mother are out there in the corridor waiting. I
was to call them. I made them let me come in alone."

"Oh, call them, call them!"

"I don't think they will know you as I did, with that great beard on
your face. We'll see."

When Bertrand and Mary entered, they stood for a moment aghast, seeing
little likeness to either of the young men in the developed and
bronzed specimen of manhood before them. But they greeted him warmly,
eager to find him Peter, and in their manner he missed nothing of
their old-time kindliness.

"You are greatly changed, Peter Junior. You look more like Richard
Kildene than you ever did before in your life," said Mary.

"Yes, but when we see Richard, we may find that a change has taken
place in him also, and they will stand in their own shoes hereafter."

"Since the burden has been lifted from my soul and I know that he lives,
I could sing and shout aloud here in this cell. Imprisonment--even
death--means nothing to me now. All will come right before we know it."

"That is just the way Richard would act and speak. No wonder you have
been taken for him!" said Bertrand.

"Yes, he was always more buoyant than I. Maybe we have both changed,
but I hope he has not. I loved my friend."

As they walked home together Mary Ballard said, "Now, Peter ought to
be released right away."

"Certainly he will be as soon as the Elder realizes the truth."

"How he has changed, though! His face shows the mark of sorrow. Those
drooping, sensitive lines about his mouth--they were never there
before, and they are the lines of suffering. They touched my heart. I
wish Hester were at home. She ought to be written to. I'll do it as
soon as I get