ote; he would be well and hearty when the boy came West
after graduating.

God bless you, son [the letter ended]. If you knew what it means for
your old dad to stay away you'd forgive him for being in the doctor's
care. Come home quick when it's over. There's a four-pound trout waiting
for one of us up in the lake country somewhere. It's up to you or me to
get him.

Crawford showed the letter to Mary. He was disappointed, but not so much
so as the girl expected.

"I never really dared to count on his coming," he explained. "It has
been this way so many times. Whenever Dad has planned to come East
something happens to prevent. Now it has happened again; I was almost
sure it would. It's a shame! I wanted you to meet him. And I wanted him
to meet you, too," he added.

Mary also was a little disappointed. She had rather looked forward to
meeting Mr. Smith. He was her friend's father, of course, and that of
itself made him an interesting personality, but there was something
more--a sort of mystery about him, inspired in her mind by the
photograph which Crawford had shown her, which made her curious. The man
in the photograph resembled Crawford, of course, but she had the feeling
that he resembled someone else even more--someone she had known or whose
picture she had seen. She was sorry she was not to meet him.

Commencement was a wonderful time. Mary was introduced to dozens of
young fellows, attended spreads and sings and proms, danced a great
deal, was asked to dance ever so much more, chatted and laughed and
enjoyed herself as a healthy, happy, and pretty girl should enjoy a
college commencement. And on the following Tuesday she and Miss Pease,
looking down from the steamer's deck, waved their handkerchiefs to Mrs.
Wyeth and Zoeth and Captain Shadrach and Crawford who, standing on the
wharf, waved theirs in return as the big ship moved slowly out of the
dock and turned her nose toward Minot's Light and the open sea. For the
first time since Hamilton and Company put up a sign both partners had
come to Boston together.

"Annabel's keepin' store," explained Shadrach, "and Isaiah's helpin'.
It'll be the blind leadin' the blind, I cal'late, but we don't care, do
we, Zoeth? We made up our mind we'd see you off, Mary-'Gusta, if we had
to swim to Provincetown and send up sky-rockets from Race P'int to let
you know we was there. Don't forget what I told you: If you should get
as fur as Leghorn be sure and hunt up that s