erated, "I s'pose I may as well tell ye fust as last. I
cum here for that purpose, an' all I want to fix is, if thar's nothin'
in it ye'd keep it a secret and not raise any false hopes in the minds
o' them as is near and dear to me."

"It's a lawyer's professional duty never to disclose any business
confidence that a client may confide to him," answered Frye with
dignity, "and in this matter I infer you wish to become my client. Am I
right, Mr. Terry?"

"I didn't cum here exactly purposin' to hire ye," answered Uncle Terry;
"I cum to find what's in the wind, an', if 'twas likely to 'mount to
anything, to tell all I knew an' see that them as had rights got
justice. As I told ye in the fust on't, I'm keeper o' the light at the
end o' Southport Island, an' have been for thirty year.

"One night in March, just nineteen year ago comin' this spring, thar was
a small bark got a-foul o' White Hoss Ledge right off'n the pint and
stayed thar hard an' fast. I seen her soon as 'twas light, but thar was
nothin' that could be done but build a fire an' stand an' watch the poor
critters go down. Long toward noon I spied a bundle workin' in, an' when
it struck I made fast to it with a boat hook an' found a baby inside an'
alive. My wife an' I took care on't, and have been doing so ever since.
It was a gal baby and she growed up into a young lady. 'Bout ten years
ago we took out papers legally adoptin' her, an' so she's ourn. From a
paper we found pinned to her clothes, we learned her name was Etelka
Peterson, an' that her mother, an' we supposed her father, went down
that day right in sight o' us. Thar was a locket round the child's neck,
an' a couple o' rings in the box, an' we have kept 'em an' the papers
an' all her baby clothes ever since. That's the hull story."

"How did this child live to get ashore?" asked Frye, keenly interested.

"That's the curis part," replied Uncle Terry; "she was put in a box an'
tied 'tween two feather beds an' cum ashore dry as a duck."

Frye stroked his nose reflectively, stooping over as he did and watching
his visitor with hawk-like eyes.

"A very well-told tale, Mr. Terry," he said at last. "A very well-told
tale indeed! Of course you have retained all the articles you say were
found on the child?"

"Yes, we've kept 'em all, you may be sure," replied Uncle Terry.

"And why did you never make any official report of this wreck and of the
facts you state?" asked Frye.

"I did at the time," an