r little martyr, for it
was awfully important to us all. But the four-year-old baby was
absolutely incorruptible, he cried bitterly and sobbed out:

"'Farver said I mustn't never tell anybody--never! Farver said Philip
Fairfield of Fairfield mustn't _never_ bweak his words,' and that was
all.

"Nothing could induce him to give the least hint. Of course there was
great search for it, but it was well hidden and it was never found.
Finally, mother took her obdurate son and me and came to New York with
us, and we lived on the little income which she had of her own. Her hope
was that as soon as Philip was old enough she could make him understand,
and go back with him and get that large sum lying underground--lying
there yet, perhaps. But in less than a year the little boy was dead and
the secret was gone with him."

Philip Beckwith's eyes were intense and wide. The Fairfield eyes, brown
and brilliant, their young fire was concentrated on his mother's face.

"Do you mean that money is buried down there, yet, mother?" he asked
solemnly.

Mrs. Beckwith caught at the big fellow's sleeve with slim fingers.
"Don't go to-day, Phil--wait till after lunch, anyway!"

"Please don't make fun, mother--I want to know about it. Think of it
lying there in the ground!"

"Greedy boy! We don't need money now, Phil. And the old place will be
yours when I am dead--" The lad's arm went about his mother's shoulders.
"Oh, but I'm not going to die for ages! Not till I'm a toothless old
person with side curls, hobbling along on a stick. Like this!"--she
sprang to her feet and the boy laughed a great peal at the hag-like
effect as his young mother threw herself into the part. She dropped on
the divan again at his side.

"What I meant to tell you was that your father thinks it very unlikely
that the money is there yet, and almost impossible that we could find it
in any case. But some day when the place is yours you can have it put
through a sieve if you choose. I wish I could think you would ever live
there, Phil; but I can't imagine any chance by which you should. I
should hate to have you sell it--it has belonged to a Philip Fairfield
so many years."

A week later the boy left his childhood by the side of his mother's
grave. His history for the next seven years may go in a few lines.
School days, vacations, the four years at college, outwardly the
commonplace of an even and prosperous development, inwardly the infinite
variety of experien