"I didn't cum here exactly purposin' to hire ye," answered Uncle Terry; "I cum to find what's in the wind, an', if 'twas likely to 'mount to anything, to tell all I knew an' see that them as had rights got justice. As I told ye in the fust on't, I'm keeper o' the light at the end o' Southport Island, an' have been for thirty year. "One night in March, just nineteen year ago comin' this spring, thar was a small bark got a-foul o' White Hoss Ledge right off'n the pint and stayed thar hard an' fast. I seen her soon as 'twas light, but thar was nothin' that could be done but build a fire an' stand an' watch the poor critters go down. Long toward noon I spied a bundle workin' in, an' when it struck I made fast to it with a boat hook an' found a baby inside an' alive. My wife an' I took care on't, and have been doing so ever since. It was a gal baby and she growed up into a young lady. 'Bout ten years ago we took out papers legally adoptin' her, an' so she's ourn. From a paper we found pinned to her clothes, we learned her name was Etelka Peterson, an' that her mother, an' we supposed her father, went down that day right in sight o' us. Thar was a locket round the child's neck, an' a couple o' rings in the box, an' we have kept 'em an' the papers an' all her baby clothes ever since. That's the hull story." "How did this child live to get ashore?" asked Frye, keenly interested. "That's the curis part," replied Uncle Terry; "she was put in a box an' tied 'tween two feather beds an' cum ashore dry as a duck." Frye stroked his nose reflectively, stooping over as he did and watching his visitor with hawk-like eyes. "A very well-told tale, Mr. Terry," he said at last. "A very well-told tale indeed! Of course you have retained all the articles you say were found on the child?" "Yes, we've kept 'em all, you may be sure," replied Uncle Terry. "And why did you never make any official report of this wreck and of the facts you state?" asked Frye. "I did at the time," answered Uncle Terry, "but nothin' cum on't. I guess my report is thar in Washington now, if it ain't lost." "And do I understand you wish to retain me as your counsel in this matter, and lay claim to this estate, Mr. Terry?" continued Frye. "Wal, I've told ye the facts," replied Uncle Terry, "an' if the gal's got money comin' I'd like to see her git it. What's goin' to be the cost o' doin' the business?" "The matter of expense is hard to state in such a case as this," answered Frye cautiously. "The estate is a large one; there may be, and no doubt will be, other claimants; litigation may follow, and so the cost is an uncertain one. I shall be glad to act for you in this matter, and will do so if you retain me." It is said that those who hesitate are lost, and at this critical moment Uncle Terry hesitated.