had never hoped to see. The modest gentleman who had,
for his sake, relinquished fresh honours in China, had won them, and
until now had never spoken of them, but Boone knew that they are not
lightly gained--and that in no way can they be bought.

A sudden and unaccountable mistiness blurred his sight.

"I'm obliged to you, sir," he said seriously. "I know you don't often
show them."

He had meant to say nothing more than that, but youth's questioning urge
mastered his resolution, so that he put an interrogation very slowly,
half fearing it might seem an impertinence.

"You told me once, sir, that I might ask whatever questions I liked--and
that you would refuse to answer when _you_ felt like it. I'm going to
ask one now--but I reckon I oughtn't to." Again there was a diffident
pause, but the sincere blue eyes were unwaveringly steady as they met
the gray ones.

"Do you reckon, sir, the day will ever come--when I can know the real
name--of the man I owe--pretty nigh everything to?"

McCalloway blinked his eyes, which this cub of a boy had a way of
tricking into unsoldierly emotion, and resolutely set his features into
immobility.

"No, sir; I'm afraid not," he answered with a gruffness that in no way
deceived his questioner. "McCalloway is as good a name as any--I'm
afraid, at all events, it will have to serve to the end."

Slowly and gravely the lad nodded his head. "All right, sir," he
declared. "It was just curiosity, anyhow. The name I know you by is good
enough for me."

But McCalloway was disquietingly moved. He rose and replaced the
dispatch box on its shelf, and after that paced the room for a few
moments with quick, restive strides. Then his voice came with an
impulsive suddenness. "There's a paper in that dispatch box ... that
would answer your question, Boone," he said. "I tell you because I want
you to realize how entirely I trust you. It's the secret chamber of my
Bluebeard establishment. While I live it must remain locked."

After a moment he added, "If I should die ... and you still want to
know--then you may open the box ... but even then what you learn is for
yourself alone, and I want that you shall destroy all those documents
and whisper no word whatever of their contents to any living soul."

"I promise, sir," declared the boy, "on my honour."

* * * * *

When August had brought the yellow masses of the golden-rod and the
rusty purple of the ironweed; wh