"He just went for a little walk down the street." "How is he?" "He has been talking all day about that safe combination," Aunt Clara answered. "I was in hopes he had gotten his mind off of that. He hadn't mentioned it before since I told him they had found the combination and opened the safe. Which way did he go? I will go and meet him." "He started east on this street." She walked several blocks east but saw nothing of her father, and was about to turn back when she looked down a side street and saw him only a short distance away. She waved her hand to him and he waved his in answer. She was soon by his side. "How are you, Daddy?" she asked. "Busy, Ruth; very busy. I have been trying to remember the combination to that safe. I almost had it once--I got as far as two turns to the right and then back to the left to forty. I can't remember any more." "What safe is it, Daddy?" "My safe; where all our money is locked up. We wouldn't be poor if I could find that safe and get it open." "Where is that safe? Can't you remember at all?" "No, honey, that is what I am trying to do. If I could remember the combination it might help me to remember where the safe is." "Daddy, don't you remember that you sold your bank stock to Mr. Stover and that the only safe you had was the bank safe?" "No. I can't remember anything about ever having had any bank stock." "Can't you remember at all about being a bank president?" "No. I remember that you have asked me about a bank lots of times, but then you know I can't remember anything that happened before I woke up in the hospital and they told me that I had been in an automobile accident; except, that I had a safe with money, lots of money." "Well, don't bother about it now. Look at the beautiful roses in that yard." "They are beautiful. How wonderful it is that God touches the cold dull earth with life and it brings forth such marvelous beauty." Ruth looked up at him admiringly. He was a tall well proportioned man, a little past middle age. His features were noble, his bearing dignified. In spite of the loss of memory, his speech and acts expressed a refinement which had become second nature to him. "Come, Daddy," she said, taking him by the arm, "let's go. Aunt Clara will be waiting dinner for us." Aunt Clara was on the porch waiting for them when they arrived. "It's about time you were coming, the dinner is getting cold." "We are here 'ready to go,'" said Ruth, laughing, "and I have a wonderful appetite that is craving some of your chicken salad." "My dear," said Aunt Clara, "you are not going to be disappointed tonight. I have the salad prepared." "Fine! Doesn't that sound good, Daddy?" "Yes--if I can remember the other numbers." "I was talking about dinner. Aunt Clara has chicken salad for dinner. Isn't that fine?" "Yes, chicken salad is all right."