At Christmas they were greatly surprised when a letter from Boston
reached them, with a post-office order enclosed for one dollar.


"I am hungry for news of my baby," so the letter ran, "and will you
please drop me a line to let me know how he is. I hope to send more
money when I can. The above address will find me.

"ANNA LAYOR."


Parson Dan held the post-office order in his hand for some time after
he had read the letter. His eyes stared straight before him into the
fire, though he saw nothing there.

"That money goes into the bank, Martha," he at length remarked. "I
shall open an account in Rodney's name. I could not use that money as
it would weigh too heavily upon my conscience. A sacrifice has been
made, there is no doubt of that. It is the price of blood, as truly as
was the water brought to David from the well of Bethlehem."

"You are quite right, Daniel," his wife replied. "Something tells me
that she is a good true woman, and that Rodney need never be ashamed of
her. But do you notice her name, 'Anna Layor'?"

"Don't let that worry you, dear. I have the feeling that it is not her
real name. Anyway, until we are sure let the boy keep ours."

That night Parson Dan wrote a long letter in answer to the brief one he
had received that day. It was all about Rodney--in fact, a complete