ations, but remained silent,
with his head on his hands, till the very end.

Indeed, he was so still after it was all told that for a moment I felt
uneasy, lest he was taken ill.

But presently he looked up, with his face very pale, and said, "I can
scarcely believe it, Fred."

There was nothing in his tone or look to say whether the disclosure came
to him as good news or bad. I longed to know, but I dared not ask. A
long silence followed. He sat down on a chair with his face turned from
me. I felt that to say another word would be a rude disturbance.

After a while he rose and said, in a voice very low and trembling, "I'll
go up stairs, Fred."

"No," said I, taking his arm and gently leading him back to his chair.
"I'll go up, old boy, and look after Billy to-night."

He did not resist, and I hastened up.

Mr Smith met me at the door with anxious face.

"Well?" he inquired, in a voice which trembled as much as Jack's had
done.

"He knows all," I said.

"Yes? and--"

"And he is downstairs, expecting you," I said.

With a sigh very like a sob, Mr Smith left me and went down the stairs.
All that long night, as I sat beside Billy and watched his fitful
sleep, I could hear the sound of voices in the room below.

What they said to one another I never knew, and never inquired.

But next morning, when Jack came and summoned me to breakfast, his happy
face and Mr Smith's quiet smile answered far more eloquently than words
every question I could possibly have asked about that strange and sacred
meeting between a lost father and a lost son.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

HOW JACK AND I TALKED LOUDER THAN WE NEED HAVE DONE.

About a week after the experiences narrated in the last chapter, my
friend Smith and I went down one morning early to Hawk Street.

We usually took a short walk on our way when we happened to be early,
and I don't exactly know why we did not do so this time. But certain it
is that instead of reaching the office at half-past nine, we found
ourselves there a few minutes before nine.

The housekeeper was sweeping the stairs and shaking the mats on the
pavement as we arrived.

She naturally looked surprised to see us, and said she had the office
yet to sweep out, and we had better take a walk.

But, being lazily disposed, we declined the invitation, and determined
to brave the dust and go up.

The office was certainly not very tempting for work. The windows were
wide open, and the di