The dispatch was simply signed "Alice," and the young men were speechless as Witherspoon falteringly read the words: "Ellensburg, Washington, July 5, 1897.

Father lying dying at Pasco.
Railroad accident.

Join me there.

I arrive six o'clock morning." "I have ordered all the Tacoma dispatches repeated to her," muttered Ferris.
"He did not get this news about Clayton." Ferris' eyes were averted.
In his craven heart there was but one burning question, "My God! Did he remake his will after our marriage?
I may be left a pauper on Alice's bounty." And Ferris, with a mighty effort, controlled his knowledge of the secret wedding.

"This is horrible!" he cried, as he sank into a chair.
And while they were mute, a ghastly, gleaming corpse was whirled hither and thither, under the blackened waters rushing inward from the sea, under the arch of Brooklyn Bridge, a mute witness of the curse of Cain, waiting God's awful mandate for the sea to give up its dead..