afraid of any one. For eight years I had been shoved in life from
pillar to post, until now threats had no terrors for me.

Both of my parents were dead to me. My mother died when I was but five
years old. She was of a delicate nature, and, strange as it may seem,
I am inclined to believe that it was for the best that her death
occurred when it did. The reason I believe this is, because she was
thus spared the disgrace that came upon our family several years
later.

At her death my father was employed as head clerk by the firm of
Holland & Mack, wholesale provision merchants of Newville, a thriving
city which was but a few miles from Darbyville, a pretty village
located on the Pass River.

We occupied a handsome house in the centre of the village. Our family,
besides my parents and myself, contained but one other member-- my
sister Kate, who was several years my senior.

When our beloved mother died, Kate took the management of our home
upon her shoulders, and as she had learned, during my mother's long
illness, how everything should be done, our domestic affairs ran
smoothly. All this time I attended the Darbyville school, and was
laying the foundation for a commercial education, intending at some
later day to follow in the footsteps of my father.

Two years passed, and then my father's manner changed. From being
bright and cheerful toward us he became moody and silent. What the
cause was I could not guess, and it did not help matters to be told by
Duncan Woodward, whose father was also employed by Holland & Mack,