l.

"Did you say you were _asked_ to find these people?" he inquired at
last, examining the lead of his pencil intently.

"Oh, yes, sir."

"Indeed! And may I inquire who asked you?"

"Why, of course! The people who belong to them--who are so anxious for
them to come back, you know."

"Oh, then they want them?" The man was still examining the point of his
pencil.

"Indeed they do, Mr. Edwards," cried Cordelia, glad to find her new
audience so interested. "Mrs. Lizzie Higgins eloped years ago, and her
mother, Mrs. Snow, is terribly worried. She's never heard a word from
her. Mrs. Granger is a widow, and very poor. Her husband died last year.
She hasn't any one left but her cousin, Lester Goodwin, now, and she so
wishes she could find him. Lester's had some money left him, but if he
isn't found this year, it'll go to some one else."

"Oh!" The man gave a short little laugh that sounded not quite pleasant,
as he lifted his head suddenly. "I begin to see. Mrs. Granger thinks if
she had Lester, and Lester had the money, why she'd get the money, too,
eh?"

"Oh, no, sir--not exactly," objected Cordelia. "You see, if he _isn't_
found the money goes to _her_, so she thinks she ought to make a special
effort to find him. She says she wouldn't sleep a wink if she took all
that money _without_ trying to find him; so she asked me. Of course the
lawyers are hunting, anyway."

"Oh-h!" said the man again; but this time he did not laugh. "Hm-m;
well--are there any fortunes left the other two?" he asked, after a
moment's silence. He had gone back to his pencil point.

"Oh, no, sir," laughed Cordelia, a little ruefully. "I'm afraid they
won't think so. _They're_ wanted to _help_ folks."

"To help folks!"

"Yes, sir. You see John Sanborn's father is very poor, and he lives all
alone in a little bit of a house in the woods. He's called 'Hermit
Joe.'"

"Yes--go on," bade the man, as Cordelia stopped for breath. The man's
voice was husky--perhaps because he had stooped to pick up another dried
leaf.

"There isn't much more about him, only he's terribly lonesome and wants
his boy, he says. You see, the boy ran away years and years ago. I don't
think that was very nice of him. Do you?"

There was no answer. The man sat now with his hand over his eyes.
Cordelia wondered if perhaps she had tired him.

"And that's all," she said hurriedly; "only Sally Hunt's brother, James.
If he isn't found she'll have to go to the Poor Farm,