g with her a gold locket which
she meant to pawn.

Although she knew that a pawnbroker had opened a shop where her father
had kept his, she had never gone to it. But something seemed to lead
her there that evening. When she reached the place her heart almost
failed her; but, summoning courage, she entered the shop, and
presented the locket to the pawnbroker. While he was examining it two
men entered. The pawnbroker's clerk waited on them. She seemed to feel
their eyes on her.

When she gave the pawnbroker her name, he said:

"Rumble? Frances Rumble? Why, a young man was here to-day inquiring
for Mr. Rumble, and some time ago the carrier brought two letters here
for you. I could not tell him where you lived, and he took them
away."

Fanny's heart beat wildly. She was sure that the letters were from
Arthur, and that it was he who had inquired for her father.

"Is this Miss Rumble?" said one of the men who had followed her into
the shop.

She turned and recognized Dixon. The person with him was Teague. Dixon
had just pawned a watch, and had remarked that he wished Rumble still
kept the shop.

When Fanny told them of her father's illness and of his misfortune,
Dixon and Teague insisted on going home with her, meaning to lend
assistance in some way.

When they reached Fanny's humble lodging, and followed her into her
father's room, they found Maxwell at Rumble's bedside.

A cry of joy escaped Fanny as her lover folded her in his arms. She
soon learned from him that he had never received the letter in which
she wrote him about her father's trouble and their removal from the
old shop. It had missed him while he was moving about in the West. And
then he told her of the success of his invention.

Rumble, whose mind was lucid for the moment, said:

"You will be happy at last, Fanny. Arthur has come for you."

"And you, too, will be happy with us, father," replied Fanny, taking
his hands in hers.

The old man smiled faintly, and rolled his head to and fro on his
pillow, as if he thought differently.

The clock began to strike; it was midnight, and the New Year was at
hand. The sound of bells came to their ears, and a distant chime was
heard.

Rumble's mind once more began to wander; again he talked about the
auction; again he muttered the words that had troubled him so much:

"Going--going--gone!"

They were his last words. The old man's life went out with the old
year.

Albert Roland Haven.

THE