ToC The household of the worthy carpenter, it may be conceived, was thrown into the utmost confusion and distress by the unaccountable disappearance of the two boys. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. A young man was playing the banjo. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. That is what I don't understand. She has no proof—yet. Not up here, I think. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else.
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