"Is there any, any doubt about it now?" she asked. "None whatever," he replied. "And what of Rhyming Joe's story?" "It was a pure falsehood. He does not tire of telling how he swindled the sharpest lawyer in Scranton out of a hundred and fifty dollars, by a plausible lie. He takes much credit to himself for the successful execution of so bold a scheme. But the money got him into trouble. He had too much, he spent it too freely, and, as a consequence, he is serving a short term of imprisonment in the Alleghany county jail for some petty offence." The tears would keep coming into the lady's eyes; but they were tears of joy, not of sorrow. "I have the detective's report here in writing," continued Goodlaw; "I will give it to you that you may read it at your leisure. Craft's story was true enough in its material parts, but a gigantic scheme was based on it to rob both you and your son. The odium of that, however, should rest where the expense of the venture rested, on Craft's attorney. It is a matter for sincere congratulation that Ralph's identity was not established by them at that time. He has been delivered out of the hands of sharpers, and his property is wholly saved to him. "I learn that Craft is dying miserably in his wretched lodgings in Philadelphia. With enough of ill-gotten gain to live on comfortably, his miserly instincts are causing him to suffer for the very necessities of life." "I am sorry for him," said the lady; "very sorry." "He is not deserving of your sympathy, madam; he treated your son with great cruelty while he had him." "But he saved Ralph's life." "That is no doubt true, yet he stole the jewelry from the child's person and kept him only for the sake of obtaining ransom. "This reminds me that it is also true that he had an interview with your husband on the day of Mr. Burnham's death. What took place between them I cannot ascertain, but I have learned that afterward, while the rescuing party were descending into the mine, your husband recognized Ralph in a way that those who saw and heard him could not at the time understand. Recent events, however, prove beyond a doubt that your husband knew, on the day he died, that this boy was his son." Mrs. Burnham had been weeping silently. "You are bringing me too much good and comforting news," she said; "I am not quite able to bear it all, you see." She was smiling through her tears, but a look of anxiety crossed her face as she continued:-- "I am worried about Ralph. He has not yet come from the breaker." She glanced up at the little clock on the shelf, and then went to look out from the window. The man on the bed moved and moaned, and she went back to him. "Perhaps we had better send some one to look for the boy," said Goodlaw. "I will go myself--" He was interrupted by the opening of the door. Andy Gilgallon stood on the threshold and looked in with amazement. He had not expected to find the lady and the lawyer there.