f pretty, names," she
said, reflectively.

"Cords of 'em," Hiram agreed.

"But, you see, they wouldn't really be mine," said the girl, earnestly.
"Not even after I had chosen them. I want my very own name! I want to
know who I am and all about myself. And"--with a half strangled sob--"I
guess wishing will never bring me that, will it, Hiram?"

Never before had the young fellow heard Sister express herself upon this
topic. He had no idea that the girl felt her unknown and practically
unnamed existence so strongly.

"I wouldn't care, Sis," he said, patting her bent shoulders. "We love
you here just as well as we would if you had ten names! Don't forget
that.

"And maybe it won't be all a mystery some day. Your folks may look you
up. They may come here and find you. And they'll be mighty proud of
you--you've grown so tall and good looking. Of course they will!"

Sister listened to him and gave a little contented sigh. "And then they
might want to take me away--and I'd fight, tooth and nail, if they tried
it."

"What?" gasped Hiram.

"Of course I would!" said the girl. "Do you suppose I'd give up Mother
Atterson for a dozen families--or for clothes--and houses--or, or
anything?" and she ran into the house leaving the young farmer in some
amazement.

"Ain't that the girl of it?" he muttered, at last. "Yet I bet she is in
earnest about wanting to know about her folks."

And from that time Hiram thought more about Sister's problem himself
than he had before. Once, when he went to Crawberry, he went to the
charitable institution from which Mother Atterson had taken Sister. But
the matron had heard nothing of the lawyer who had once come to talk
over the child's affairs, and the path of inquiry seemed shut off right
there by an impassable barrier.

However, this is ahead of our story. On this particular night Hiram
washed at the pump, and then followed Sister in to supper.

Before they were half through Mr. Camp suddenly started from his chair
and pointed through the window.

Flames were rising behind the barn again!

"Another stack burning!" exclaimed Hiram, and be shot out of the door,
seizing a pail of water, hoping that he might put it out.

But the stack was doomed. He knew it the moment he saw the extent of the
blaze.

He kept away from it, as he had before; yet he did not expect to pick up
any trail of the incendiary near the stack.

"Twice in the same place is too much!" declared the young farmer,