“Hello, you Angel-face! Case of necessity. Well, look a minute,” Trench drawled. “But that's the limit, and twice as long as I'd care to see you, although, I was hunting you. Funnybone wants to see you in there.” Victor's eyes were glowing with a golden light as he entered Fenneben's study, and the Dean noted the wonderful change from the big, awkward fellow with a bulldog countenance to this self-poised gentleman whose fine face it was a joy to see. “I have a message for you, Burleigh. No hurry about it I was told, but I am called away on important business and I must get it out of my mind. An odd-looking fellow called at my door on the night I came home and left a package for you. He said he had tried to find you and failed, that he was a stranger here, and that you would understand the message inside. He insisted on not giving this in any hurry, and as my coming home has brought me a mass of things to consider, I have not been prompt about it.” Fenneben put a small package into Burleigh's hands. “Examine it here, if you care to. You can fasten the door when you leave. Goodby!” and he was gone. Victor sat down and opened the package. Inside was a quaint little silver pitcher, much ornamented, with the initial B embossed on the smooth side. “The lost pitcher--stolen the day my mother died--and I was warned never to try to find who stole it.” He turned to the light of the west window. “It is the very thing I found in the cave that night. The man who took it may have been over there.” He glanced out of the window and saw a thin twist of blue smoke rising above the ledges across the river. “Who can have had it all this time, and why return it now?” he questioned. As he turned the pitcher in his hands a paper fell out. “The message inside!” He spread out the paper and read “the message inside.” Well for him that Dr. Fenneben had left him alone. The shining face and eyes aglow changed suddenly to a white, hard countenance as he read this message inside. It ran: “Victor Burleigh. First, don't ever try to follow me. The day you do I'll send you where I sent your father. No Burleigh can stay near me and live. Now be wise. “Second. You saved the baby I left in the old dugout. Before God I never meant to kill it then. The thought of it has cursed my soul night and day till I found out you had saved him. “Third. The girl you want to marry--go and marry. Do anything, good or bad, to destroy Burgess. “Fourth. The money Burgess had is yours, only because I'm giving it to you. It belongs to Bug Buler. He couldn't talk plain when you saved him. He's not Bug Buler; he's Bug Burleigh, son of Victor Burleigh, heir to V. B.'s money in the law. I've got all the proofs. You see why you can have that money. Nobody will ever know but me. Don't hunt for me and I'll never tell. TOM GRESH.”