"I must have dreamed it, then. But what makes me dream such strange things? I thought you told him that my father had been a little off at times. Didn't you?" "Why, of course not. You never told me that there was ever anything wrong with your father, and even if there was how should I know it?" "But there wasn't anything wrong with him, Caroline, and why should you say 'if there was.'" "Now, father, I never thought of such a thing as suspecting that there was, and please don't let that worry you." "I won't, but didn't Henry bring a paper and keep it hidden until after I went to sleep?" "No, he read them all to you." "I thought he brought in a weekly paper and read something about a widow from Washington." "No, he didn't." After a time he dozed and then he began to mutter: "It is easier to pay than to explain." "What is it, dear?" she asked, not noticing that he dozed. "Did you speak to me?" he inquired, rousing himself. "You said something about it's being easier to pay than to explain," she answered. "Did I? Must have been dreaming. Has Ellen come home?" "Not yet, but I'm looking for her. Of course she started for home as soon as she could after hearing the news." "What time is it?" "Twenty minutes of four," she answered, glancing at the clock. "I wonder why Henry doesn't come." "He'll be here soon." "Has any one heard from Mrs. Brooks?" "No. I would have gone over there, but I couldn't leave you." "You are a noble woman, Caroline." She was arranging his pillow and he was looking up at her. "You are too good for me." "Please don't say that," she pleaded. "I might as well say it as to feel it. Isn't it time for Henry to come?" "Yes, I think so. He'll be here soon, I'm sure." "I hope I shan't have to lie here to-morrow. I can't, and that's all there is about it." He lay listening with the nervous ear of eagerness until so wearied by disappointing noises that he sank into another doze. CHAPTER XXVI. TOLD IT ALL. Witherspoon started. "Ah, it's you. Did you bring the evening papers?" "Yes, here they are," Henry answered. "What do they say? Can't you tell me? Got the papers and can't tell me what they say?" "They say a great deal," Henry replied. "Brooks has made a confession." In an instant Witherspoon sat on the edge of the bed, with the covers jerked about him. He opened his mouth, but no word came forth. "When he was told that Mrs. Colton had made a statement he gave up," said Henry. "The confession is not a written one, but is doubtless much fuller than if it were. I will take the _Star's_ report. They are all practically the same, but this one has a few pertinent questions. I will skip the introduction.