"Help! Help!" he cried distractedly. "Father's dying! Aunt Annie! James!" He was warranted in his belief that his parent was breathing his last, for his face was of a deathly pallor, and to Grant's inexperienced eye this was a symptom of the gravest import, and he gave his father up for lost immediately. He did not stand long alone in his helplessness, for in another moment James, the butler, and Grant's Aunt Annie came hurrying in. They both took in the situation at a glance, and while the first mentioned opened the window, in order to admit the fresh cold air, the latter bathed his temples with water and cologne. Mr. Mackerly had fallen into a swoon of unusual severity, and the process of reviving him was slow and tedious. It was nearly a half hour before he was strong enough to speak to them. "Shall I send for a doctor?" inquired his sister anxiously. "No, by no means," he feebly replied. "It's one of my ordinary fainting spells. I've had them before. I'll--I'll be all right in a few minutes. Lay me on the couch in the library and--let me alone. What time is it?" "Nearly half-past seven," answered his sister. "Where is Grant?" was his next query. "Here I am, father," and his son stepped before him. "What's wanted?" "Come to the library at eight o'clock. I want to speak to you. I will be much better then. Don't forget." Grant promised, and with the help of the butler and the gardener his father was carried to the library and placed upon a couch, where he was left by himself in spite of his sister's expostulations. She was a widow, as Mr. Mackerly was a widower, and they made their home together in that magnificent residence on the hill back of Whipford. Promptly on the chime of eight, Grant marched into the library, and found his father, pale but steady, seated at the secretary, busily examining a heterogenous mass of papers. "Are you better, father?" he asked, solicitously. "Don't you see I am?" was the cross response. "That spell was only temporary. I am afraid of them, as they are coming on more frequently. Doctor Sedgwick tells me I must take more exercise or I'll fall sick in earnest." "I thought you took plenty," said Grant, guardedly. His father did not seem to hear his remark, but went on searching busily among the papers. Grant grew impatient and asked: "Well, what do you want of me, father?" "Oh, yes, I did ask you to come in, Grant, didn't I?" he replied, as if just recollecting the fact. "Why, what were we talking about when that dizzy feeling came over me? Do you remember the conversation?" "Why, of course," replied the son, considerably astonished at his parent's alleged forgetfulness. "It was about that little affair between Alan Heathcote and myself. Just as I told you he denied his father owed you anything, you fainted, and I hadn't a chance to finish. You--" "Oh, I remember!" interrupted Mr. Mackerly. "You told me he stated that he had an envelope containing papers, didn't you?"