"Everard, my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Cameron, in tones vibrating with
suppressed emotion, "what is it? Speak quickly, do not keep me in
suspense,"

"My dear uncle," said Houston very tenderly, "the lost is found."

Mr. Cameron sank, nearly overcome, into the nearest chair, while his
face grew deathly white.

"Guy?" he gasped, looking upward at Houston.

"Yes," said the latter brokenly.

The strong man covered his face with his hands, while his powerful
frame shook with emotion.

Houston, when he was able to speak, told him, very briefly, of his
meeting with Jack, of their association, and the strange bond of
sympathy and affection between them, of Jack's devotion, and how at
last, he had been enabled to recognize him.

Controlling himself with a mighty effort, Mr. Cameron rose, saying:

"Take me to him."

Opening the door connecting the two rooms, Houston signaled to those
within to leave the room, then led the father into the presence of the
son whom he had so long mourned as dead.

Mr. Cameron walked to the bedside, and looked long and earnestly upon
the white face, drawn with pain, but still beautiful, and bearing to a
great extent, the imprint of his own features; then as he tenderly
clasped the hand lying upon the sheet, he murmured brokenly, between
great, tearless sobs:

"It is he, my boy, my son! Thank God, it is not too late!"

CHAPTER XLVII.

There was a long consultation between the physicians and surgeons
following a careful and thorough examination of their patient, before
the rendering of their decision.

He had received various injuries of a serious character, but the
injury to the head was far the most dangerous of all. There was a
possibility that with the most careful nursing and the most skillful
medical aid, he might live, but his recovery was exceedingly
doubtful,--one chance out of a hundred.

"Do your best," was Mr. Cameron's reply to this decision, "do your
best, regardless of cost; if you wish counsel, have it; send out
another nurse, the best you can secure, to relieve this one, and I
wish one or the other of you gentlemen to remain here constantly, we
must not be left without a physician. I may as well inform you now,"
Mr. Cameron added, with great dignity, in conclusion, "that your
patient is my son."

Astonishment was depicted upon the faces of the physicians, but Mr.
Cameron continued:

"For some months my nephew has been out here incognito, engaged in
unearth