“I wish I could go to the war,” I remarked, with a sigh, for I longed to be a hero and show my courage, as my father had done. “That's a wicked business,” said my mother, sadly. “I hoped that you would never want to go. I think it would be wise for you to go with Mr. McCarthy. He is fond of you and has good principles, and I presume it is best for you to leave this town; but I can't spare you for the war.” I told them all about my visit to the handmade gentleman. “Is he as homely as ever?” my sister asked. “No, he has grown good-looking,” I answered. “He is going to be married.” And I told of his engagement. “My land! I wouldn't marry him if he were the last man in the world!” Sarah exclaimed. “Why?” was my query. “He looked and talked so funny--just like a young old man. Then he was so afraid of me--hardly dared to look me in the face. I don't see how he had the courage to ask her.” “I presume she furnished all the courage that was necessary. But you'd be surprised to see him. He's handsome, and can walk as well as anybody; and I believe he's going to be a great man.” “I'm sure I wish him well.” “Pearl says that he is a born leader--that the new spirit is in him. I think that girl is lucky.” “I hope that you will stick to him,” said my mother. “You see I have a new motto on the wall.” It occupied a prominent place above the mantel--a yard of wisdom in letters of red silk: _STICK TO NOTHING AND NOTHING WILL STICK TO YOU_ It was rather good counsel for a boy, and, in truth, I had begun to share the uneasiness which, beyond doubt, had inspired this gentle reproof. “I'm glad you thought of that motto, for I want you to stick to me,” I suggested. “Mr. Pearl says that as soon as I get my hand in you should come and live with me, both of you.” “Mr. Pearl is a mystery,” said my mother. “Sometimes I think I have seen him before, but I cannot place him. The goggles cover his eyes so, and I have heard his voice but once.” I gathered all my clothing and treasures and packed them into my trunk, and when we were ready to go to bed my mother gave me the horruck. “One night I found you asleep in your chair,” she said, “and the horruck lay beside you. I saw it was robbing you of rest, and so I put it away.” “The horruck!” I exclaimed. “What can it mean?” “Your teacher put the coin in your pocket that day before Christmas, years ago. It is one of a number of silver pieces that were marked by an old and kindly man who lived in Hearts-dale years ago. They taught his religion, and he used to slip them into the pockets of needy people, who wondered where they came from. We used to call them the ghost riddles.” That night I solved the riddle of the horruck by writing down the alphabet and discarding _x_ and choosing letters to the right and left of _m_, the middle letter. So I got this message:= ````Love is the key of heaven. ``````I love you.= It made me know that Jo loved me, and I went to bed happier than I had ever been.