ver. He did not care
to make Frederik's triumph any greater, or his smile any broader on his
account; so he compelled himself to listen to the third part of the
memorandum with an expression of polite interest.

"To my lifelong friend, Colonel Lawton, I leave my most cherished
possession."

The Colonel preened himself. He stuck his thumbs into the armholes of
his vest and wagged his crossed foot complacently. This was to be the
real kernel of the memorandum.

His appearance of security was too much for Mrs. Batholommey.

"Oh! When the church hears----"

She was interrupted by Colonel Lawton:

"I don't know why he was called upon to leave anything to the church,"
he said truculently, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. "He gave
it thousands, and only last month he put in chimes. As I look at it, he
wished to give you something he had used--something personal. Perhaps
the miniature and the fob _ain't_ worth three whoops in hell--it's the
_sentiment_!"

He lay back in his chair again as he fairly chewed on the word
'sentiment.' Once more he crossed his legs, and peered at Frederik
through his glasses.

"Drive on, Fred," he ordered.

"To Colonel Lawton, my father's prayer book."

As he read, Frederik put one hand into the drawer, and took out a worn
prayer book.

Mr. Batholommey smiled, and chuckled behind his hand, but Colonel Lawton
seemed dazed. His jaw dropped, and he looked helplessly at Frederik and
the others.

"What?" he said in a choking voice. "His prayer book--_me_?"

As in a dream he slowly leaned forward and took it gingerly between two
fingers as one might a June bug--gazing at it in amazed horror and
incredulity the while.

"Is that all?" demanded Mrs. Batholommey.

"That's all," answered Frederik, bowing to Mrs. Batholommey and smiling
radiantly.

Colonel Lawton, still dazed, could only reiterate:

"A prayer book. Me? What for?"

Then he got up slowly.

"Well, I'll be----Here, Parson." As an idea struck him, he turned
quickly toward Mr. Batholommey. "Let's shift--you take the prayer book
and I'll take the old fob!"

Mr. Batholommey smiled and waved away the offered book.

"Thank you," he said smoothly, "I already have a prayer book."

At this retort, the Colonel wilted completely. Drawing his chair close
to the fire he sat down limply and gave himself up to bitter reflection.

Mrs. Batholommey seemed the least able of the three to bear the
shattering of her high hopes. Sh