favourite with his wardens and the chaplain, the best bridge player
of the corridor. Henry was pushing his way to the front with the
old-time spirit of the Enderbys.

His mother had hoped that he might have been with her at Xmas,
but Henry had written that it was practically impossible for him
to leave Sing Sing. He could not see his way out. The authorities
were arranging a dance and sleighing party for the Xmas celebration.
He had some hope, he said, of slipping away unnoticed, but his doing
so might excite attention.

Of the trouble at home Anna had told her son nothing.

No, Henry could not come. There was no help there. And William,
the other son, ten years older than Henry. Alas, William had gone
forth from the homestead to fight his way in the great city!
"Mother," he had said, "when I make a million dollars I'll come
home. Till then good-bye," and he had gone.

How Anna's heart had beat for him. Would he make that million
dollars? Would she ever live to see it? And as the years passed
she and John had often sat in the evenings picturing William at
home again, bringing with him a million dollars, or picturing the
million dollars sent by express with love. But the years had
passed. William came not. He did not come. The great city had
swallowed him up as it has many another lad from the old homestead.

Anna started from her musing--

What was that at the door? The sound of a soft and timid rapping,