a card, leaving this for his mother on the kitchen table. Then, pretty well tired out, Ralph went to bed.
It was late in the afternoon when he awoke. He went down stairs and glanced into the sitting room.
"Why, mother," he exclaimed, "where is the farmer boy?"
"He left two hours ago, Ralph."
"Is that so? Then why didn't you wake me up? I left a card for you on the kitchen table."
"I did not find it," said the widow, and then a search revealed the card where the wind had blown it under the stove.
"What did the boy say?" inquired Ralph.
"He told me his name was Zeph Dallas. I talked to him about his misfortunes of the morning, and he broke down and cried. Then he went out to the wagon. He found an account book there, and said you must have delivered his load for him, and that he would never forget your kindness."
"There was a package in the wagon," said Ralph.
"He spoke of that, and said some one must have stolen it."
"You are sure he didn't find it later?" inquired
