"I'm sure he'll try," replied his mother, "and Fanshaw's livery fits him
to such a turn that it would have been flying in the face of Providence
not to try him. Did you give orders to be met at this train, sir?" Mrs.
Forbes looked anxiously toward the set face of her heir.

"No--I came out unexpectedly. I have received news that is rather
perplexing."

The housekeeper had not studied her employer's moods for years without
understanding when she could be of use.

"I will come to the house right off," was her prompt response. "It's a
pity you didn't know the bell was in, sir."

"No, stay where you are. I see Dr. Ballard is here. We might be
interrupted. You can go, 'Zekiel."

The young fellow needed no second invitation, but turned and mounted the
stairway that led to the chambers above.

Mr. Evringham took from his pocket a bunch of papers, and selecting a
letter handed it to Mrs. Forbes, motioning her to the battered chair,
which was still in evidence. He seated himself on the stool Zeke had
vacated, while his housekeeper opened and read the following letter:--


CHICAGO, April 28, 19--.

DEAR FATHER,--The old story of the Prodigal Son has always plenty