The new fall of snow had covered all traces of the tragedy recently enacted at the spot, but the Morrises had brought along a pair of shovels and a broom, and soon the party was at work, clearing away the snow as Sam Barringford directed. The remains of man and horse were at last uncovered, and then began an earnest search for some clew which might lead to the identity of the unfortunate person. "Here is a gold ring," said Henry presently, and held it up. Joseph Morris took the ring and examined it with care. There was an inscription inside, but it was so worn he could not decipher it. They also brought to light several pieces of clothing, torn to tatters as Barringford had said. The horse's saddle was likewise there and the reins and curb, but absolutely nothing which gave either name or address. "This looks as if we were stumped," said Henry, pausing in his labor of digging away the snow. "Right ye are," came from Barringford. "Too bad! I'd like to know who them twins belong to." "Reckon they'll belong to you, Sam," said James Morris, with a faint smile. "Me! Well, I vum! An old man like me, all alone in the world, with twins! What'll I do with 'em? Answered me thet, will ye?" And he scratched his head in perplexity. "We can keep them for the present," answered Joseph Morris. "Indeed, I don't think my wife will care to give them up in a hurry. She said this morning the youngsters had taken a tight hold of her heart." "Ef I had a hum of my own--" began Barringford. "But no, 'tain't right--I ought to find out whar they belong." "Perhaps you can find out all about them at Bedford, or Fort Loudan, or Annapolis, or Philadelphia," put in James Morris. "Certain it is they belong somewhere." They had now come to the end of their search and, as there seemed nothing more to do, prepared to return home. The ground was too hard to permit of the burial of the remains of the stranger, and they were placed between some rocks, with other rocks over them, to keep off the wild beasts. Then Joseph Morris marked the nearest tree with a large cross and a question mark--a common sign of those days, showing that somebody unknown had met death in that vicinity. When the Morris cabin was again reached they found the babies wide awake and cooing contentedly. Mrs. Morris had dressed them up as best she could, and she was holding one while Rodney held the other. Little Nell was dancing around the floor in wild delight. "Oh, I just love those babies so much!" cried the little miss. "I want mamma to keep them, if nobody comes to take them away." "Don't want to send them to the poorhouse, then?" questioned her father quizzically. "To the poorhouse?" she repeated scornfully. "No, indeed!" "What a fate for such darlings!" murmured Mrs. Morris. "No, Joseph, hard as times may be, I cannot consent to send these little ones away to live on charity, even if the authorities were willing to take them--which I doubt."