“But why didn’t he let us know before where he was?” asked Roy. “Bless you, he only knew himself yesterday. He’s had a hard tug of it, and not a scrap or a card could we find about him, only the letters R. B. P. P, on his linen.” “Then he’s been out of his head?” “Yes; and you must be prepared to find him greatly changed. But he’ll come around again all right, the doctor says. I’ll go up now and see if he is awake and call you.” The summons to ascend came a few minutes later, and presently Roy found himself standing by his brother’s bedside. Mrs. Raynor considerately withdrew and left the two together, warning them that she should be back in ten minutes to prevent her patient from becoming unduly excited. Rex had changed. There was no longer any plumpness in his cheeks, and his face was very white. But so were his teeth, and his eyes were as lustrous as ever. “Roy!” He uttered the one word in a weak voice, and held tightly in both of his the hands that his brother extended to him. A moment of the precious ten was lost to silence as the two looked at each other, but in that look was that which hours of speech could not have expressed. Roy read in it true repentance, a pleading for forgiveness, and Rex saw that there was no chiding for him from those at home, only love and pity. “Do you know all, Roy; the very worst?” Rex then whispered. “Don’t think of that now, Reggie. It is all right. I want to talk about yourself—your sickness.” “But I must think of it. I have been thinking of it ever since I came to my senses yesterday. Did you know that I told you lies, that I acted them, that I took the money I had been saving up for mother’s present to pay the expenses of this wretched trip?” “But you didn’t go all the way, Reggie. I found that out. You turned back. What happened to you then?” Rex told the terrible tale of the robbery, of the awful night he had passed riding back and forth across the river, and had got as far as his falling asleep on the train when Mrs. Raynor appeared and smilingly announced that time was up. “Miles will tell you the rest, Roy,” said Rex. “He’s the best fellow. I don’t know what would have become of me if it hadn’t been for him. And Mrs. Raynor, too. When I get well they must all come to Philadelphia and we’ll give them the very best time.” There was a touch of his old self in the heartiness with which he uttered these words. Roy’s coming and comforting words had lifted a heavy burden from his heart. They left him to try to get to sleep again. Roy went down stairs with Mrs. Raynor. “I ought to go home at once and tell my mother about Rex,” he said. “Why not send a message and stay with him?” suggested the other. “We should be very glad to have you. There is plenty of room in the house. Or send word for your mother to come on. I know she must be anxious to see her son.”