with her mother. Then he led her on past and into the house.
When she saw his face, in the light, there were signs of strain in it; she could feel strain now in his fingers which held hers strongly but tensely too.
"You're tired, Henry!"
He shook his head. "It's been rotten hot in Chicago; then I guess I was mentally stoking all the way up here, Connie. When I got started, I wanted to see you to-night . . . but first, where are the things you wanted me to see?"
She ran up-stairs and brought them down to him. Her hands were shaking now as she gave them to him; she could not exactly understand why; but her tremor increased as she saw his big hands fumbling as he unwrapped the muffler and shook out the things it enclosed. He took them up one by one and looked at them, as she had done. His fingers were steady now but only by mastering of control, the effort for which amazed her.
He had the watch in his hands.
"The inscription is inside the front," she said.
She pried the cover open again and read, with him, the words engraved within.
"'As master of . . .' What ship was he master of then, Henry, and how did he rescue the Winnebago's people?"
"He never talked to me about things like that, Connie. This is all?"
"Yes."
"And nothing since to show who sent them?"
"No."
"Corvet, Sherrill, and Spearman will send some one