he insisted upon it, advising her to lay aside what she did not
need.

One evening about this time Edward Granger, who still occupied the
small apartment adjoining, came into Chester's room, looking agitated.

"What is the matter?" asked Chester. "Have you had bad news?"

"Yes; I have had a letter from Mr. Wilson, of Portland, whom you
recollect we met about a year ago."

"I remember him."

"I will read you his letter. You will see that I have reason to feel
anxious."

The letter ran as follows:

"DEAR EDWARD: I promised to send you any news I might pick up about
your mother and her premising husband. Trimble is indulging in
liquor more than ever, and I don't see how he can stand it unless
he has a castiron constitution. From what I hear he has never given
up trying to get your mother's property into his hands. She has
held out pretty firm, but she may yield yet. I hear that he is
circulating reports that you are dead. In that case he thinks she
may be induced to make a will leaving her property to Mr. Trimble;
having, as I believe, no near relatives, so that he would seem to
be the natural heir.

"I may be doing Trimble an injustice, but I think if such a will
were made she wouldn't live long. Your stepfather is in great
straits for money, it seems, and he might be tempted to do
something desperate. As far as I can hear, Abner Trimble's plan is
this: He took a pal of his around to the house who had been in New
York recently, and the latter gave a circumstantial account of your
dying with typhoid fever. Evidently your mother believed it, for
she seemed quite broken down and has aged considerably since the
news. No doubt her husband will seize this opportunity to induce
her to make a will in his favor. Here lies the danger; and I think
I ought to warn you of it, for your presence here is needed to
defeat your stepfather's wicked plans. Come out at once, if you
can.

"Your friend,

"NATHANIEL WILSON."

"What do you think of that, Chester?" asked Edward, in a troubled
voice.

"I think it very important. Your mother's life and your interests both
are in peril."

"And the worst of it is that I am helpless," said Edward, sadly. "I
ought to go out there, but you know how small my salary is. It has
required the utmost economy to live, and I haven't as much as five
dollars saved up. How can I make such a long a