to call again, and
when they parted it was with the understanding that there should be
another interview arranged.

Peter Boots had much food for thought.

He sat thinking for hours after the food had been given to him.

What was the explanation? What _could_ be the explanation?

How could communications from a dead man be received when the man was
not dead?

How he longed to go home, disclose himself, and run to earth that
fearful fraud! How gladly he would do so, except that it would ruin his
father's reputation. What would the public think of a man who had been
so taken in by fraud, and had blazoned it to the world.

To be sure it was no reflection on Benjamin Crane's sincerity, yet he
would be the butt of derision for the whole country, and his discredited
head would be bowed for the rest of his life.

Peter couldn't bring himself to do that, especially now that he had
discovered that his loss was not a source of hopeless grief to his
parents.

"I'm not wanted in this world," he told himself, sadly, "I'm a
superfluous man. I've got to dispose of myself somehow," and he gave a
very realizing sigh.

And the thought of Carly,--that tried to obtrude itself, he put
resolutely from him.

"She's probably forgotten me," he assured himself, "and anyway I must do
the right thing by Mother and Dad first. If I decide that I can't
demolish their air castle, so carefully built up, I must light
out,--that's all."

Trying hard to be cheerful, but feeling very blue and desolate he ate a
solitary dinner and went again to the theater to see "Labrador Luck."

Douglas' graphic description of his home and his father had given him a
great longing to go there, to see the dear old place, the dear old
man,--and his mother, and Julie.

He felt he _must_ go. Then, he knew he couldn't go, without breaking his
father's heart and life.

"I broke his heart when I _didn't_ go home," he thought whimsically,
"now, I mustn't break it again by going home!"

He sat through the moving picture performance again, and marveled anew
at the beauty of the production. It was far above the rank and file of
moving pictures, it was adjudged by all critics the very greatest
production ever put upon the screen.

Shelby's name had become famous, his work was applauded everywhere, and
Peter yearned to see him and renew their friendship.

But he knew he mustn't think of those things. First of all he had to
decide whether or not he was to come bac