Cass's heart sank again as he was confronted by a dark, iron-gray man--in dress, features, speech, and action--uncompromisingly opposed to Cass--his ring and his romance.

When the young man had told his story and produced his treasure he paused.

The banker scarcely glanced at it, but said, impatiently: "Well, your papers ?" "My papers ?" "Yes.

Proof of your identity.

You say your name is Cass Beard.