He hesitated just a moment and glanced questioningly at Mrs. Travis. Then for the first time the girls noticed that Mrs. Travis was very pale, that her eyes burned dark against the whiteness of her skin as though she had been racked by a great agitation and her hands clasped tightly the back of a chair. She nodded to John Westley. "Yes, my search is ended. You see I had the right clue--though it was only the mention of a pair of eyes. Do you remember in Uncle Peter's letter about Craig Winton's eyes? 'They were glowing like they were lighted within.' Well, have you ever seen a pair of eyes like that? I have--only where Craig Winton's were sad with disappointment, these others glow from the pure joy of being alive----" "_Jerry?_" interrupted Gyp, in a queer, tangled voice. "Yes--Jerauld." "_Oh-h!_" The girls stared at Jerry and Jerry stared at John Westley. Was he just joking? How _could_ it be? She turned to her mother. Her mother nodded again. "Yes, dear, you are Jerauld Winton. But--we gave you your stepfather's name--he was so good to us!" In that moment of unutterable surprise Jerry's loyal little heart went out quickly to Little-Dad. "Oh, even if he _is_ a stepfather I love him just the same!" she exclaimed, wishing he was there that she might hug him. "You see, beginning at this end made my search quicker. It was hindered a little, though, because the county courthouse at Waytown, where the records of Jerry's birth and Craig Winton's death were filed, burned a few years ago with everything in it. But I stumbled on an old codger who used to be postmaster at Waytown and he told me more in a few moments than all the Boston detectives had found in months. I went on to Boston to interview those old friends the lawyers there had found and then came back." There was a puzzled look on each face. Hesitatingly, Jerry put the question that was in each mind. "But, mother, why didn't you ever tell? Were you--ashamed?"