“Old man, you are a fool! Now, listen: Nance and I had got our bags nearly filled, when I found this,” striking the paper with her forefinger. “It blew right under my feet, around a corner. It’s the morning paper.”

“Well, well!”

“Oh, you’ll hear it soon enough. It’s the morning paper, and you know I always read the papers, when I can find ’em, although, since you lost the few brains you was born with, you never look at one.”

“Umph!”

“Well, I looked at this paper, and see what I found!”

She held the paper toward him, and pointed to a paragraph among the advertisements.

Wanted. information of any sort concerning one Arthur Pearson, who left the mining country with a child in his charge, twenty years ago. Information concerning said child, Lea Ainsworth, or any of her relatives. Compensation for any trouble or time. Address,

O. E. Mears, Atty,

O. E. Mears

Melbourne, Australia.

The paper fluttered from the man’s nerveless fingers, but the woman caught it as it fell.

“Oh, Lord!” he gasped, the drops of perspiration standing out upon his brow, “oh, Lord! it has come at last.”

“What has come, you old fool!”

“Everything; ruin! ruin!”

“We’re a pretty looking pair to talk of ruin,” giving a contemptuous glance at her surroundings. “Stop looking so like a scared idiot, and listen to me.”

“Oh, I’m listening!” sinking down upon the pallet in a dismal huddle; “go on.”

[43]

“Oh, Lord!” he gasped; “oh, Lord, it has come at last!”—page 42.

[44]The woman crossed over and sat down beside him.

[44]

 Prev. P 23/322 next