s long as
we bo ... all live," Constance could read, and the date "June 2, 1891."

It was in January, 1896, Constance remembered, that Alan Conrad had
been brought to the people in Kansas; he then was "about three years
old." If this wedding ring was his mother's, the date would be about
right; it was a date probably something more than a year before Alan
was born. Constance put down the ring and picked up the watch.
Wherever it had lain, it had been less protected than the ring; the
covers of the case had been almost eroded away, and whatever initialing
or other marks there might have been upon the outside were gone. But
it was like Uncle Benny's watch--or like one of his watches. He had
several, she knew, presented to him at various times--watches almost
always were the testimonials given to seamen for acts of sacrifice and
bravery. She remembered finding some of those testimonials in a drawer
at his house once where she was rummaging, when she was a child. One
of them had been a watch just like this, large and heavy. The spring
which operated the cover would not work, but Constance forced the cover
open.

There, inside the cover as she had thought it would be, was engraved
writing. Sand had seeped into the case; the inscription was
obliterated in part.

"For his courage and skill in seam ... master of ... which he brought
to the rescue of the passengers and crew of the steamer _Winnebago_
foundering ... Point, Lake Erie, November 26th, 1890, this watch is
donated by the Buffalo Merchants' Exchange."

Uncle Benny's name, evidently, had been engraved upon the outside.
Constance could not particularly remember the rescue of the people of
the _Winnebago_; 1890 was years before she was born, and Uncle Benny
did not tell her that sort of thing about himself.

The watch, she saw now, must have lain in water, for the hands under
the crystal were rusted away and the face was all streaked and cracked.
She opened the back of the watch and exposed the works; they too were
rusted and filled with sand. Constance left the watch open and,
shivering a little, she gently laid it down upon her bed. The pocket
knife had no distinguishing mark of any sort; it was just a man's
ordinary knife with the steel turned to rust and with sand in it too.
The coins were abraded and pitted discs--a silver dollar, a half dollar
and three quarters, not so much abraded, three nickels, and two pennies.

Constance choked, and her eyes fi