Just as we made ready to retire someone knocked on the bunk house door, and thinking that perhaps some wandering tramp had the nerve to bother us at this late hour in the night, we roughly ordered the intruder to be gone.

Instead of going, the knocks continued, and angry at the persistence of the person, we pulled the door open, and to our complete surprise found that it was Mrs.McDonald who had knocked for admission.

Realizing the great honor she was conferring upon us, we politely bade her to enter and asked her to be seated.

She was attired in the dress in which she intended to make the journey on the following day, and its sombre black of deepest mourning, aided by the yellow light of our lamp, transformed the pallor of her haggard face into an almost ghastly white.

We patiently waited for her to open the conversation, of course expecting that she had come to thank us once more for having presented her with the purse.