was a brief,
heart-broken little letter. I have it here. It brought me home, but I
still fancied that home was this house." The gentleman took from his
pocket a small envelope and read its enclosure aloud. It was, as he had
stated, extremely short and gave only the facts.

"MY DEAR UNCLE FREDERIC: Our mother is dead. She is buried at Quaker
cemetery. My father and Hallam are well. So is Cleena. I don't know how
to write to you because you are really a stranger to me. The burros are
both well. Your loving

"AMY KAYE."

"There, that's all. It was enough to bring me clear across the
continent, however. My heart aches; I should have come sooner. Oh, for
one sight of Salome's beautiful face before--" He dropped his head on
his hand and a sob shook the strong frame.

The doctor rose and busied himself about his patient. He respected the
brother's grief, and he liked this man, unthrifty and neglectful as he
might have been.

Then Marshall made a sign, and the physician left the room so quietly
that Mr. Kaye did not hear him go. Outside, in the hall, the valet was
waiting, almost breathless with eagerness.

"Will he live?" he questioned in a whisper.

"Time will tell. I hope so," was the unsatisfactory response.

"Well, if he don't, that's his--murderer."

The other sprang back as if he had been struck.

"Man, take care what you say! How dare you?"

"Ain't it reasonable? Didn't he say he was the man that owned the mill,
this house, everything before master did? Who else had a grudge against
the poor old man?"

"Lots of people, I reckon. It won't hurt him to tell the truth. He was
as testy as a snapping turtle--you know that. Plenty of folks disliked
him. Most likely the person who attacked him was a tramp who hoped to
find money. By the way, did anybody look to see if there had been
robbery as well as assault?"

"I did. No; there wasn't anything stole, so far as I know. That's what,
one thing--why it must have been--"

Dr. Wise laid his hand on Marshall's shoulder.

"Look here, man, you stop that talk. Not another word of it. How dare
you, I say how dare you, thrust suspicion upon an innocent man? I'd
stake my life on the integrity of any Kaye was ever born. Unfortunate
this returned wanderer may be, but--If you let me hear one single word
more of such fol-de-rol, I'll make it hot for you. Understand? Haven't
we got enough on our hands to keep your master alive? There must be
quiet here, absolute quiet.