ing that you must know, and you must not be annoyed at
this: at times, I believe he imagines you to be that boy of his."

Chester sat up, and exactly at the moment when he looked into the face
of Uncle Gilbert a cog in the machinery of his own thoughts caught into
a cog of the wheel within wheels which the man at his side had been
revealing. The cog caught, then slipped, then caught again. Wheels began
to revolve, bringing into motion and view other possible developments.

"That's only when his illness makes him delerious," continued Uncle
Gilbert. "As I said, you must pay no attention to him under those
conditions, but I thought you ought to know."

"Yes; yes," whispered the young man--"Thank you." For him, Hyde Park and
London had disappeared: all earthly things had become mist out of which
he was trying to emerge.

"You don't know the woman's name," Chester asked again, with dry
lips--"Tell me her name."

"I don't remember. I'm not sure, but I believe I have heard my brother,
in his times of delerium speak of Anna."

"Anna. Anna," repeated Chester, as he stared into space. Uncle Gilbert
looked at the young man, and then repented of telling him. He was a
little annoyed at his manner. He arose, brushed the grass from his
clothes, and said:

"Well, let's be going."

Chester went along mechanically. At the Marble Arch Uncle Gilbert was
about to hail a bus, when Chester stopped him.

"You'll excuse me, wont you for not returning with you--I--I--"

"But I gave my word to Lucy that I would bring you back."

"Yes; I know, I'll come after a while--but not now--you go
on,--I--I--there's your bus now; you had better take it."

Uncle Gilbert, still a little annoyed, climbed on the bus and left his
companion looking vacantly at the line of moving busses.

Chester went back into the park. There was room to breathe there and
some freedom from fellow beings. He left the beaten paths. Oh, that he
could get away from everybody for a time! Old Thunder out among the
Rocky Mountains would be an ideal place just now.

The wheels of thought went surely and correctly. There was no slipping
of cogs now. _The Rev. Thomas Strong was his father._

Every link in the chain of evidence fitted. There was no break. He went
over the ground again and again. There came to him now facts and
incidents which he had heard from his foster parents, and they all
fitted in other facts and strengthened his conclusions. Now he also
remembered a