arments.

"Oh, Jack! what does this mean?" cried Mrs. Ruthven when she saw that
our hero was dripping wet.

"He saved St. John's life, mamma," exclaimed Marion.

"Saved St. John's life?"

"Yes. St. John's boat struck on the rocks, and he went overboard. The
current was strong, and he would have been swept away only Jack leaped
overboard and went to his assistance."

"You noble boy!" murmured Mrs. Ruthven, and as he came in, by way of one
of the long veranda windows, she caught him by both hands.

"Old Ben said you wished to see me," replied Jack, and then he caught
sight of Dr. Mackey and his face fell. "The man I had the row with," he
thought.

"Jack, this is Dr. Mackey," said Mrs. Ruthven, in strained tones.
"He--he came here to see you." She could get no further.

"To see me? What for?"

"My boy, I am pleased to meet you," said the doctor, rising and
extending his hand. And he then added in a lower voice, "How like
Walter! How very like Walter!"

"I--I don't understand you," stammered Jack. "What do you want of me?"

"My boy, you are thinking of that encounter we had on the bridge. Let us
both forget it. I came here on a most important mission. Jack, I am your
father!"

"My father?" And our hero leaped back in astonishment.

"Yes, my son, I am your father." Dr. Mackey caught our hero by the hand.
"No doubt the news seems strange to you. Nevertheless, it is true."

Jack hardly heard the latter words, for his head was in a swim. This
crafty-looking, overbearing individual his parent? The shock was an
awful one. He turned to his foster mother.

"Mother, is this true--is this man my real father?" he cried
beseechingly.

"So he claims," returned Mrs. Ruthven.

"My dear, dear son, I trust you do not disbelieve me," said the doctor,
in an apparently hurt tone of voice.

"I--I don't know what to say," faltered Jack. "This is so strange--so
unexpected. Why didn't you come here before?"

"I have just been telling Mrs. Ruthven my story," and the surgeon
repeated what he had said, with several added details. As the man went
on our hero's face grew very pale, and he moved slowly towards Mrs.
Ruthven and clutched her by the shoulder.

"Mother, I don't want to leave you!" he whispered hoarsely. "I don't
like this man, even if he is my father!"

"I do not want you to leave me, Jack," she answered, embracing him in
spite of the fact that he was dripping wet. "But if this man is really
your father----"

"