"Every word," the young man continued, "I treasured, and while I was yet a lad I used to rack my brain to find a cause for my father's faith, and though I found it not I yet resolved to follow his plan and--wait. So silently, tenaciously I kept my hold upon my 'mosquito foundry,' and endured many things in the name of wit from my companions, who sought information as to proper 'treatment of stings,' as to the usual period 'for mating among the young birds,' as to the 'outlook for cranberries,' etc. As years went by the subject dropped, thank heaven! I had worked desperately for my mother's needs. Then--well, when I found myself alone, I worked desperately still, to prove to Mr. Wheatleigh that I was grateful. The firm noticed me. They tested my discretion. Then one day old Mr. Gordon said to Mr. Stone: 'A young fellow who can so lock his lips, and give the combination to no one is wanted in this office for confidential work.' It was a big step they offered me, and--and, Father Lawton, I did not have a soul to rejoice with me or say 'well done!' I was so desolately alone in my good fortune that when I locked my room door behind me I buried my face in my mother's old crêpe shawl, and talked to it, and yet," he laughed a little, "upon my soul I quite expect people to consider me a man! "Well, one day I was mildly surprised to receive a letter making an offer for a small portion of my land. The price was modest--I declined it, briefly. But before I had mailed my note another letter and another offer to purchase reached me. I declined both, and dropped the matter from my mind, when lo! my correspondents renewed their efforts to buy, doubling the price first offered, at a single bound. I had heard of no boom in town lots--no sudden growth outward in my direction, yet both letters expressly stated that 'simple cottage homes were to be built.' Homes out there on those dreary flats? Builders of simple cottages were rarely able to double an offered price for the ground alone. I astonished Mr. Wheatleigh by asking for half a day's absence. The old pair at the cottage could only tell me that two or three of the widely scattered residents had recently sold out and all but one had gone away. These people had lived along the river. I walked out in that direction, and stopped at the small truck garden, that had been sold but was not yet vacated. I questioned the woman--a dull creature--from whom I gained no information beyond her joy at going to live in the town. Her little girl was teasing for a penny to spend for that childish solace--gum. Being refused, I told her if she would walk along with me for company I would give her a nickel; I paid in advance, and we went out together. She was a sharp little monkey, as keen as her mother was dull. Inquiring about what had been going on, I learned of the advent of six puppies down the road a bit; of the lamentable fate of old Tom Hale, a local ne'er-do-weel, and also of the presence of the 'queer men,' who used to