"Speaking of coincidences," said David, "I can beat yours, whatever it
is. If the thought of your father brought you back, my mother drew
me--this way!" And he took something from his inside coat pocket.--"Do
you see that?"

Dick regarded the object blankly, then with a quick gesture dived into
his pocket and brought forth another of the same general character.
"How about this?" he asked.

Each had one of Reba Larrabee's Christmas cards but David had the
first unsuccessful one and Dick the popular one with the lonely
little gray house and the verse about the folks back home.

The men looked at each other in astonishment and Dick gave a low
whistle. Then they bent over the cards together.

"It was mother's picture that pulled me back to Beulah, I don't mind
telling you," said David, his mouth twitching. "Don't you see it?"

"Oh! Is that your mother?" And Dick scanned the card closely.

"Don't you remember her portrait that always hung there after she
died?"

"Yes, of course!" And Dick's tone was apologetic. "You see the face is
so small I didn't notice it, but I recognize it now and remember the
portrait."

"Then the old sitting-room!" exclaimed David. "Look at the rag carpet