“I think he has noticed my resemblance to my father.  If I had not assumed a different name he would have been sure to detect me.  This would have interfered with my plans, as he undoubtedly knew the whereabouts of his old clerk, and would have arranged to remove him, so as to delay his discovery, perhaps indefinitely.  Here is the letter I received last night.  I will read it to you.”

The letter ran as follows: 

“I have at length discovered the man of whom I have so long been in search.  I found him in Detroit.  He had recently removed thither from St. Louis.  He is very poor, and, when I found him, was laid up with typhoid fever in a mean lodging-house.  I removed him to more comfortable quarters, supplied him with relishing food and good medical assistance.  Otherwise I think he would have died.  The result is, that he feels deeply grateful to me for having probably saved his life.  When I first broached the idea of his giving evidence against his old employer, I found him reluctant to do so—­not from any attachment he bore him, but from a fear that he would be held on a criminal charge for concealing a felony.  I have undertaken to assure him, on your behalf, that he shall not be punished if he will come forward and give his evidence unhesitatingly.  I have finally obtained his promise to, do so.

“We shall leave Detroit day after to-morrow, and proceed to New England by way of New York.  Can you meet me in New York on the 18th inst.?  You can, in that case, have an interview with this man Travers; and it Will be well to obtain his confession, legally certified, to guard against any vacillation of purpose on his part.  I have no apprehension of it, but it is as well to be certain.”

This letter was signed by Mr. Morton’s agent.

“I was very glad to get that letter, Frank,” said his companion.  “I don’t think I care so much for the money, though that is not to be dispised, since it will enable me to do more good than at present I have it in my power to do.  But there is one thing I care for still more, and that is, to redeem my father’s memory from reproach.  In the last letter he ever wrote he made a specific statement, which this lawyer declares to be false.  The evidence of his clerk will hurl back the falsehood upon himself.”

“How strange it is, Mr. Morton,” exclaimed Frank, “that you should have saved the life of a son of the man who has done so much to injure you!”

“Yes, that gives me great satisfaction.  I do not wish Squire Haynes any harm, but I am determined that justice shall be done.  Otherwise than that, if I can be of any service to him, I shall not refuse.”

“I remember now,” said Frank, after a moment’s pause, “that, on the first Sunday you appeared at church, Squire Haynes stopped me to inquire who you were.”

“I am thought to look much as my father did.  He undoubtedly saw the resemblance.  I have often caught his eyes fixed upon me in perplexity when he did not know that I noticed him.  It is fourteen years since my father died.  Retribution has been slow, but it has come at last.”