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phone for the doctor. He -was too
late. When he returned to the house
Gregory Tresham was dead.
Marcy missed him, for he had been
a kind and indulgent friend. He had
trusted Implicitly in Marcy, giving
him the entire management of the
little farm. The village lawyer came
to see Marcy one evening a week
later. He announced to his client
that he was the sole-heir to the farm
and that a thousand dollars in the
bank had also been left to him.
All those days Marcy had been
thinking over the last significant ut
terance of Gregory Tresham. It
was obvious to him that the old man,
had his strength lasted longer, would
have suggested some change in his
"will to favor 'Hester Vaile.
"Mr. Morse," he spoke out now, to
the infinite amazement of the' law
yer, "can that will be destroyed?"
"The will destroyed?" repeated
the attorney, marvelingly. "Why,
what do you mean?"
"Well, can it?" persisted Marcy
"Certainly not it is on record."
Marcy proceeded t6 tell Mr. Morse
of the incident attending the last mo
ments of his employer. He stated
definitely that he could not think of
accepting the legacy, when unmis
takably the dying intention of Mr.
Tresham was to leave It to the girl
he had driven from his love.
"Nonsense! Sentiment! Ridicu
lous!" stormed the hard-headed law
yer. "A whim of his deliriumr that
about Hester Vaile. You are entitled
to what you've got, and, as I am
glad to say for your own good, you
cannot change the bequest"
All the same, Lucius Marcy quietly
went to the city the next day and
paid an advance fee to an informa
tion bureau to try to locate the long
absent Hester Vaile.
Then he bought a ledger and a day
book. Every night Marcy put down
the expenses and receipts of the day
and one item always: "Cash for onew
day's labor, Lucius Marcy, $1.50."
SWe have located Hester Vaile,"
came a telegram from the city final
ly. "Await orders."
"Send word that she is wanted a
her former home with Gregory,
Tresham," was the return wire
which Marcy sent.
He was working at digging a
drainage trench for the garden one
day when an automobile drove up. A
lady alighted, young, handsome, but
her face was that of one who had
seen sorrow.
"I am Mrs. Newland," she spoked
"I was sent for," and then, as she'
noted a puzzled look in Marcy's face,;
she added: "But, perhaps, I am best'
known here as Hester Vaile."
"That Is right," bowed Marcy in
his frank, direct way. "Will you take
a seat on the porch, please," and
seated, also, he told his story.
"I have kept the place just as it
was as a worker for for you," he ex
plained. "If you wish me ' to re
" He paused, she was staring at him
In a,stpange way.'
"You mean to tell me," she fal
tered, "that you wish to give your
property to me?" .
"As Mr. Tresham desired on his
deathbed, certainly," gravely re
sponded Marcy.
She continued to stare at him.
Then he noted a dim moisture come
to her eyes. She addressed him:
'Will you do me a favor?"
"Certainly, madam."
"Let me go Into the old room where
I used to sit with Mr. Tresham. Let
me rest rest after all these years
pt turmoil and sorrow. Ah, dear old
home would that I had never left
it!"
She came out at the end of half an
hour. She put her hand in his own
at parting. She looked steadily into
his eye.s.
"You are a good' man," she said.
"I will see Mr. Morse and send you
word of my decision."
"Thank you," bowed Marcy.
The lawyer came to see him that
evening., He recited a strange story,