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“It was the lost pocketbook, of course?” continued Jack.

“Nothing less,” said Amos, tragically; “you see, it must have been lying on top of all those papers and was dragged off when the drawer was opened long ago. Every cent was in it untouched. Father swooned away with the shock, and has never been himself since. He can’t sleep nights, and keeps muttering all the while about his cruel injustice to poor Tom.”

“Of course you showed him the cards from your brother, Amos?”

“Yes, as soon as he was in a condition to understand,” replied the other. “From that hour he has had only one thing in his mind, which was that some one must find Tom and fetch him home. Father says he can’t live much longer, and that he is praying every day that he might ask his boy to forgive him before he goes.”

“And so we’ve come across to try and find Tom,” Jack went on to say, “though since he’s changed his name it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack; but we’ve managed to pick up a clue, and there’s a faint chance of our running across him before a great while.”