Letters came to Sherm in a short time from Sue Dart, from Dick and Alice Harding, and from Mrs. Halford, who painstakingly wrote him all the details of his supposed father's last days. She evidently knew nothing of his not being the Dart's own son. Sue's letter seemed to comfort him a little. He did not show it to anyone, even to Chicken Little. He confided to her, however, that the folks were sending his things to him the next day. They had already broken up the home and were going back to Chicago with Sue the following week. When the express package arrived, Sherm took it straight to Jane. "You open it," he said. Chicken Little took his knife and cut the string and folded back the paper wrappings carefully. It seemed some way as if she were meeting Sherm's mother. The quaint little old-fashioned garments were musty and faded. A frock of blue merino braided in an elaborate pattern in black lay on top. There was a cape to match, and a little cloth cap. Beside these lay a funny pair of leather boots with red tops--almost like a man's--only, oh, so tiny! Chicken Little hardly knew whether to laugh or cry at these. "Oh, Sherm, did you ever wear them? How you must have strutted! I can fairly see you." Sherm smiled and took them up tenderly. Did he, too, feel as if there were another presence haunting these relics of his childhood? The tiny yellowed undergarments came next, all made by hand with minute even stitches. A pair of blue and white striped knitted stockings was folded with these, and last, at the bottom, a little pasteboard box appeared, containing a ring, a brooch, and a flat oval locket on a fine gold chain. Sherm examined the ring first. Inside was inscribed William-Juanita. May 1860. The brooch contained a lock of dark hair under a glass; the whole set in a twisted rim of gold. The locket held miniatures of a white-haired man and woman with foreign-looking faces. Both Sherm and Chicken Little looked these over in silence. Presently Sherm sighed, then laid the trinkets all back in Chicken Little's lap. "I don't see anything there that could help much," he said hopelessly. Chicken Little slowly folded up the little garments and laid them neatly back in their wrapping. Her brow was puckered into a frown. "I am trying to think where I have heard that name Juanita--some place lately. I don't remember ever to have known anybody by that name. It's Spanish, isn't it?" "I guess so, but what you're thinking of is the song, 'Juanita.'" "Oh, I expect it is. Sherm, do you mind if I take these things over and show them to Captain Clarke? He said he would like to see them when they came." "No, take them along. If you'll wait till I get the feeding done, I'll go with you." "All right, let's take Calico and Caliph." Sherm lingered out on the veranda while Chicken Little displayed the contents of the package to the Captain. He examined each little article of clothing for some identifying mark.