himself, was unreadable. His notes told nothing; his son could
tell little more--of consequence. A report, to be sure, did come
from the village, far up the mountain, that such a man and boy
had lived in a hut that was almost inaccessible; but even this
did not help solve the mystery.

David was left at the Holly farmhouse, though Simeon Holly
mentally declared that he should lose no time in looking about
for some one to take the boy away.

On that first day Higgins, picking up the reins preparatory to
driving from the yard, had said, with a nod of his head toward
David:--

"Well, how about it, Holly? Shall we leave him here till we find
somebody that wants him?"

"Why, y--yes, I suppose so," hesitated Simeon Holly, with
uncordial accent.

But his wife, hovering in the background, hastened forward at
once.

"Oh, yes; yes, indeed," she urged. "I'm sure he--he won't be a
mite of trouble, Simeon."

"Perhaps not," conceded Simeon Holly darkly. "Neither, it is safe
to say, will he be anything else--worth anything."

"That's it exactly," spoke up Streeter, from his seat in the