Joe now gave his brother a brief review of his own career since they were separated, and finished by telling him that his present occupation was that of a railroad employee.

At this moment an elderly gentleman approached and Joe introduced him to his brother as Mr. Holmes, his father-in-law, who, while Jim left to arrange for Joe’s dinner, told Joe that after he had engaged Jim, the latter had proven himself so reliable that when a few years later his only daughter, Dorothy, who had been sent east to finish her education, returned and had fallen head over heels in love with Jim, he not only gave his paternal blessing, but on their marriage day gave her for a wedding present a deed to the ranch.

Just then the dinner bell rang, and when they came to the house Mrs. James McDonald with her son, a lad of eight, and her daughter, a pretty girl of five, were waiting for them, and after Jim had introduced Joe he called his attention to the fact that his baby girl was named after her Aunt Helen who disappeared so mysteriously, and that the children had the McDonald family mark, the streak of white hair upon their heads.

After dinner Jim called Joe into his private office and pleaded with him to forsake the railroad and make his future home upon the ranch.  But it was quite a while before Joe would even listen to his proposition, but when Jim assured his brother that he could not think of having to part with him again he finally consented to the change.

During the remainder of the afternoon Joe was busy writing his resignation and arranging to have his property transferred from Chicago, while Mr. Holmes and Jim were away from the house overseeing the work of the ranch.  After Joe had finished his correspondence he took a seat in a rocking chair upon the porch from where he had a grand view of the fertile valley of the Arkansas and the snow capped mountain ranges beyond.

A little later his sister-in-law joined him, and although she sat in another rocker close to Joe’s, he found it impossible to engage her in a conversation, try as he might, as she persisted in staring him in the face.  Chagrined at what he thought to be an affront, he suddenly blurted out:  “Mrs. McDonald, is there something about my face that interests you?” Instead of an answer the lady who had turned a ghastly pallor handed him a small, paper wrapped parcel.  Joe opened the same, and then after he hastily scanned its contents he speechlessly stared at his hostess.  “Great God in Heaven,” exclaimed Joe, breaking the suspense and unable to better express his amazement at the singular turn affairs had taken, while with a trembling hand he drew forth from the paper a small leather purse.  “Can it be possible that you, Mrs. McDonald, are ‘Babe’, the girl I met fifteen years ago in Chicago, and whose timely assistance gave me a start upon the narrow path?” “I am the same girl, Joe,” she quietly replied, “and it was for the express