at such a case should be here in
this peaceful little town, and I have promised Horace to advise him all
I can, although I am too busy to take any active part in it."

"Oh, do everything you ought to, Floyd, if you discover that they have
really been abused. It might be that they would be really harmed if they
were taken back to their home. Did Horace tell you where they lived?"

"Yes, near Ithaca somewhere. I think he said they had a shanty on Cayuga
Lake."

"One of the squatters?"

"Yes."

"I remember very well," remarked Mrs. Vandecar after a moment's thought,
"when I went to Ithaca with Ann Shellington, and Horace and Everett were
graduated from the university, that we went up the lake in Brimbecomb's
yacht. The boys called our attention to numbers of huts on the west
shore, near the head of Cayuga. I suppose it must be one of those places
the children left."

"I presume so," replied the governor.

"Ann telephoned over that the boy was ill with a rheumatic heart. She
seemed quite alarmed over it."

"He probably won't get well, if that's the case," murmured Vandecar.
"It's a pernicious thing when it attacks the heart. Wasn't it rather
strange that Ann and Horace should have used our names for them,
Fledra?"

"You remember Ann asked me if I cared. She said that when they came they
had some strange nicknames, and that they wanted to make them forget
about their former lives, and it really pleased the poor little things
to have our names. I don't mind; do you, Floyd?"

"No," was the answer. "I only wish--" He stopped quickly and turned to
his wife.

Her eyes were filled with tears. Floyd Vandecar's wish had been her own,
that she knew.

"I wish you had a son, too, Floyd dear!" she sobbed. "Oh, my babies, my
poor, pretty little babies!"

"Don't Fledra, don't!" pleaded her husband. "It was God's will, and we
must bow to it."

"It's so hard, though, Floyd, so awfully hard, and the days have been so
long! Floyd, do you ever wonder and wonder where they are?"

The man shook his shoulders sharply.

"Do I ever wonder, Fledra? My hair is whitened, my life shortened, and
many of my efforts of no avail, because of my sorrow and yours. If the
days have been long to you, they have been longer to me; if your heart
has been torn over their disappearance, mine has been doubly hurt,
because--because you have depended upon me to return them to you, and I
have not been able to."

He spoke drearily, shading his fac