"I am not able to go East. Would it be possible for you to come here and receive the money and property I possess, merely leaving me enough to see me through the short time I have yet to live? If not—if you, too, are unable to travel—will you send me some trusted friend who will act in your behalf? If possible, send me some one who will remain with me to the end. There are rough people hereabouts who might rob me. Fortunately, partly from my poor way of living, I am not supposed to have much money. Probably no one supposes me to be worth over three to four thousand dollars. I dread the time when I shall be quite helpless, as then I should be at the mercy of designing and unscrupulous parties. "You may be surprised that I have learned your address. Lately I fell in with a stranger from the East, who spoke of you and gave me the information I desired. I trust this letter will be received and that you will feel like acting upon it. I shall die easy if I am able, even at this late day, to make some atonement for my wrong-doing. "Yours respectfully, "THOMAS NIXON." Gerald read this letter with interest, but could not understand how it could bear any relation to him. "What do you think of it, Gerald?" asked Mr. Nugent. "The man seems truly penitent," answered Gerald. "You think, then, that it seems sincere and truthful? You would be likely to put confidence in it?" "Yes, sir." "I remember this man Nixon; he was a trusted clerk in our bank when I was a merchant in New York. We all felt amazed when he turned out a thief; he had no bad habits or extravagant tastes so far as any of us knew." "Did you put the police on his track?" "The matter was reported, of course; but we found that a considerable expenditure was required to excite interest and spur on the police detectives to active efforts. Finally the search was given up and the matter was well-nigh forgotten." "Then the sum taken did not embarrass the firm?" "Only slightly and temporarily. Twenty years have passed, as the letter says, and I had well-nigh forgotten Nixon and his crime till this letter reached me." The old gentleman paused, and Gerald felt like asking, "What are you going to do about it?" but Mr. Nugent anticipated him. "I have been thinking over this letter, and the writer's request, and it embarrasses me. Of course it is out of the question for me to go out to Montana, in my state of health." "So I suppose, sir. You might send some one." "True, but whom shall I send? Ten years ago, when I was more in touch with the world, I might have thought of some one. But, partly on account of my health, I have withdrawn from society and from business, and actually I cannot think of any one whom I should wish to trust with such a weighty responsibility."