in Merrill's general store, when the next
letter came.

It was addressed this time not to papa, but to Alan Conrad. He seized
it, tore it open, and a bank draft for fifteen hundred dollars fell
out. There was no letter with the enclosure, no word of communication;
just the draft to the order of Alan Conrad. Alan wrote the Chicago
bank by which the draft had been issued; their reply showed that the
draft had been purchased with currency, so there was no record of the
identity of the person who had sent it. More than that amount was due
for arrears for the seven years during which no money was sent, even
when the total which Alan had earned was deducted. So Alan merely
endorsed the draft over to "father"; and that fall Jim went to college.
But, when Jim discovered that it not only was possible but planned at
the university for a boy to work his way through, Alan went also.

Four wonderful years followed. The family of a professor of physics,
with whom he was brought in contact by his work outside of college,
liked him and "took him up." He lodged finally in their house and
became one of them. In companionship with these educated people, ideas
and manners came to him which he could not have acquired at home;
athletics straightened and added bearing to his muscular, well-formed
body; his pleasant, strong young face acquired self-reliance and
self-control. Life became filled with possibilities for himself which
it had never held before.

But on his day of graduation he had to put away the enterprises he had
planned and the dreams he dreamed and, conscious that his debt to
father and mother still remained unpaid, he had returned to care for
them; for father's health had failed and Jim who had opened a law
office in Kansas City, could do nothing to help.

No more money had followed the draft from Chicago and there had been no
communication of any kind; but the receipt of so considerable a sum had
revived and intensified all Alan's speculations about himself. The
vague expectation of his childhood that sometime, in some way, he would
be "sent for" had grown during the last six years to a definite belief.
And now--on the afternoon before--the summons had come.

This time, as he tore open the envelope, he saw that besides a check,
there was writing within--an uneven and nervous-looking but plainly
legible communication in longhand. The letter made no explanation. It
told him, rather than asked him, to come to Chi