your mother's jewelry, as I told you last evening."

"Thank you," said Rodney hastily, "but I don't care to sell at present."

"Let me know when you are ready to dispose of the necklace."

Here the depot carriage appeared in the street outside and Rodney with
his gripsack in one hand and the precious casket in the other, climbed
to a seat beside the driver.

His trunk he left behind, promising to send for it when he had found a
new boarding place.

There was a chorus of good byes. Rodney waved his handkerchief in
general farewell, and the carriage started for the depot.

"Be you goin' for good?" asked Joel, the driver, who knew Rodney well
and felt friendly to him.

"Yes, Joel."

"It's kind of sudden, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What makes you go?"

"Bad news, Joel."

"Be any of your folks dead?"