"Where is my grandson--my poor George's boy? Find him for me, and name
your own reward."

"I will show him to you at once, sir. Frank!"

At the word, Frank, who was in an inner office, entered. Mr. Wharton
started in amazement.

"Frank!" he exclaimed. "My dear boy, is it you who are my grandson?"

"Grandfather!"

Mr. Wharton held out his arms, and our hero, already attached to him for
his kindness, was folded in close embrace.

"Then you believe I am your grandson?" said Frank.

"I believe it without further proof."

"Still, Mr. Wharton," said the lawyer, "I want to submit my whole proof.
Mrs. Parker!"

Mrs. Parker entered and detailed her part in the plot, which for
fourteen years had separated Frank from his family.

"Enough!" said Mr. Wharton. "I am convinced--I did not believe my
nephew capable of such baseness. Mrs. Parker, you shall not regret your
confession. I will give you a pension which will relieve you from all
fear of want. Call next week on Mr. Hall, and you shall learn what
provision I have made for you. You, Frank, will return with me."