rl stood nearest to him, he looked at her with a faint
smile.

The poor child understood him. Crying piteously, she put her arms around
his neck and kissed him. "Dear papa," she said; "come home and let me
nurse you."

The surgeon, watching the father's face, saw a change in him which the
other persons present had not observed. The failing heart felt that
parting moment, and sank under it. "Take the child away," the surgeon
whispered to the mother. Brandy was near him; he administered it while
he spoke, and touched the fluttering pulse. It felt, just felt, the
stimulant. He revived for a moment, and looked wistfully for his son.
"The boy," he murmured; "I want my boy." As his wife brought the child
to him, the surgeon whispered to her again. "If you have anything to say
to him be quick about it!" She shuddered; she took his cold hand. Her
touch seemed to nerve him with new strength; he asked her to stoop over
him. "They won't let me write here," he whispered, "unless they see my
letter." He paused to get his breath again. "Lift up my left arm," he
gasped. "Open the wrist-band."

She detached the stud which closed the wrist-band of the shirt. On the
inner side of the linen there was a line written in red letters--red
of the color of blood. She saw these words: _Look in the lining of my
trunk._

"What for?" she asked.

The fading light in his eyes flashed on her a dreadful look of doubt.
His lips fell apart in the vain effort to answer. His last sigh
fluttered the light ringlets of her hair as she bent over him.

The surgeon pointed to her children. "Take the poor things home," he
said; "they have seen the last of their father."

Mrs. Westerfield obeyed in silence. She had her own reasons for being in
a hurry to get home. Leaving the children under the servant's care, she
locked herself up in the dead man's room, and emptied his trunk of the
few clothes that had been left in it.

The lining which she was now to examine was of the customary material,
and of the usual striped pattern in blue and white. Her fingers were
not sufficiently sensitive to feel anything under the surface, when she
tried it with her hand. Turning the empty trunk with the inner side of
the lid toward the light, she discovered, on one of the blue stripes
of the lining, a thin little shining stain which looked like a stain of
dried gum. After a moment's consideration, she cut the gummed line with
a penknife. Something of a white color appeare