skies
suddenly opened for him and then shut up again.

His exclamation brought the child to a stop and he glanced up at him in
vague wonder. The General stooped and gazed at him searchingly, almost
fiercely. The next second he had pounced upon him and lifted him in his
arms while the bundle fell to the pavement.

"My boy! I am your grandfather," he cried, kissing him violently. "I am
your grandfather Hampden."

The child was lost in amazement for a moment, and then, putting his
hands against the General's face, he pushed him slowly away.

"Put me down, please," he said, with that gravity which in a child means
so much.

General Hampden set him down on the pavement. The boy looked at him
searchingly for a second, and then turned in silence and lifted his
bundle. The General's face wore a puzzled look--he had solved many
problems, but he had never had one more difficult than this. His heart
yearned toward the child, and he knew that on his own wisdom at that
moment might depend his future happiness. On his next words might hang
for him life or death. The expression on the boy's face, and the very
set of his little back as he sturdily tugged at his burden, recalled his
father, and with it the General recognized the obstinacy which he knew
lurked in the Hampden blood, which had once been his pride.

"Oliver," he said, gravely, leaning down over the boy and putting his
hand on him gently, "there has been a great mistake. I am going home
with you to your mother and tell her so. I want to see her and your
grandfather, and I think I can explain everything."

The child turned and gazed at him seriously, and then his face relaxed.
He recognized his deep sincerity.

"All right." He turned and walked down the street, bending under his
burden. The General offered to carry it for him, but he declined.

"I can carry it," was the only answer he made except once when, as the
General rather insisted, he said firmly, "I want to carry it myself,"
and tottered on.

A silence fell on them for a moment. A young man passing them spoke to
the child cheerily.

"Hullo, Oliver! A Christmas present?--That 's a great boy," he said, in
sheer friendliness to the General, and passed on. The boy was evidently
well known.

Oliver nodded; then feeling that some civility was due on his part to
his companion, he said briefly, "That 's a friend of mine."

"Evidently."

The General, even in his perplexity, smiled at the quaint way the child