"Well, Miss Cordelia,"--the man stopped a minute, as he reached for a leaf still farther away--"is that quite to be expected?" he asked then, lightly. "No, I suppose not," she sighed; "for, of course, Texas _is_ big. But if you would please just put their names down on paper same as the others have, that would help a great deal." "Why, certainly," agreed the man, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a little notebook not unlike the minister's. "Now suppose you--you give me those names again, Miss Cordelia." "John Sanborn, Lester Goodwin, James Hunt, and Mrs. Lizzie Higgins. And I am Cordelia Wilson, you know. Just 'Sunbridge, New Hampshire,' would reach me--if you found any of them." "I'll remember--if I find any of them," murmured the man, as he wrote the last name. "And thank you so much!" beamed Cordelia. There was a moment's silence. The man was playing with his pencil. "Did you say you were _asked_ to find these people?" he inquired at last, examining the lead of his pencil intently. "Oh, yes, sir." "Indeed! And may I inquire who asked you?" "Why, of course! The people who belong to them--who are so anxious for them to come back, you know." "Oh, then they want them?" The man was still examining the point of his pencil. "Indeed they do, Mr. Edwards," cried Cordelia, glad to find her new audience so interested. "Mrs. Lizzie Higgins eloped years ago, and her mother, Mrs. Snow, is terribly worried. She's never heard a word from her. Mrs. Granger is a widow, and very poor. Her husband died last year. She hasn't any one left but her cousin, Lester Goodwin, now, and she so wishes she could find him. Lester's had some money left him, but if he isn't found this year, it'll go to some one else." "Oh!" The man gave a short little laugh that sounded not quite pleasant, as he lifted his head suddenly. "I begin to see. Mrs. Granger thinks if she had Lester, and Lester had the money, why she'd get the money, too, eh?" "Oh, no, sir--not exactly," objected Cordelia. "You see, if he _isn't_ found the money goes to _her_, so she thinks she ought to make a special effort to find him. She says she wouldn't sleep a wink if she took all that money _without_ trying to find him; so she asked me. Of course the lawyers are hunting, anyway." "Oh-h!" said the man again; but this time he did not laugh. "Hm-m; well--are there any fortunes left the other two?" he asked, after a moment's silence. He had gone back to his pencil point. "Oh, no, sir," laughed Cordelia, a little ruefully. "I'm afraid they won't think so. _They're_ wanted to _help_ folks." "To help folks!" "Yes, sir. You see John Sanborn's father is very poor, and he lives all alone in a little bit of a house in the woods. He's called 'Hermit Joe.'" "Yes--go on," bade the man, as Cordelia stopped for breath. The man's voice was husky--perhaps because he had stooped to pick up another dried leaf.