aura showed
signs of bursting into tears once more.

"Where are Jessie and Mrs. Wadsworth, and Mrs. Basswood?"

"I think Jessie went over to the other bungalow with her mother. She was
as much upset as I was."

"Does she think the story is true?"

"She hopes it isn't. But of course she can't do anything--and I can't do
anything either."

"Well, I don't see what I can do." Dave took a turn up and down the
room, and then sank on a chair. "This just knocks me endwise. I can't
even seem to think straight," he added, helplessly.

"You poor boy!" Laura came over and brushed back the hair from his
forehead. "You don't know how this hurts, Dave. Oh, it can't be true!"

"I wonder how long I've got to wait before I hear from Crumville?"

"I am sure I don't know. I think, though, we'll get word just as soon as
they know anything definite."

At that moment came a timid knock on the door, and Laura opened it to
admit Jessie. The appearance of the girl showed that she was much
upset. Her face was tear-stained and her hair awry.

"Oh, Dave!" was all she said. And then coming straight toward him, she
threw her head on his shoulder and burst into a fit of weeping.

"There, there, Jessie! Don't you cry so," he said, soothingly. "I am
sure it will be all right."

"But Da-Dave, hasn't Laura to-told you?"

"Yes, she has told me."

"And did you read that letter?"

"Yes."

"But it can't be true, Dave! Oh, tell me it can't be true!" went on the
girl, pleadingly.

"I can't tell you whether it is true or not, Jessie, for I don't know,"
answered the boy, as bravely as he could. "I suppose they'll investigate
the matter at Crumville and at that place in Maine, and let me know." He
looked at her curiously. "What if they prove I am not the real Dave
Porter, Jessie--will you care very much?"

"Care? Of course I'll care, Dave! But don't misunderstand me," she
added, quickly. "Even if they prove you are not the real Dave Porter, it
won't make any difference to me. I shall think just as much of you, no
matter who you are."

"Do you really mean that?" and he clutched her tightly.

"I certainly do! What difference will it really make? You will be
yourself, no matter what your name is."

"I know, Jessie, I'll be myself; but who will I be? Perhaps I'll be a
'poorhouse nobody' after all," and he smiled bitterly.

"Never!" returned the girl, emphatically. "You'll never be a nobody,
Dave. You are too true, both to yourself and to t