``I am quite in
earnest, Frank.''
``Then whose child is she?''
``She is my child.''
``Then she must be my sister--are you not my
mother?''
``No, Frank, I am not your mother!''
CHAPTER II
MRS. FOWLER'S STORY
``Not my mother!'' he exclaimed. ``Who, then, is
my mother?''
``I cannot tell you, Frank. I never knew. You
will
forgive me for concealing this from you for so
long.''
``No matter who was my real mother since I have
you. You have been a mother to me, and I shall always
think of you as such.''
``You make me happy, Frank, when you say that.
And you will look upon Grace as a sister also, will
you not?''
``Always,'' said the boy,
emphatically. ``Mother,
will you tell all you know about me? I don't know
what to think; now that I am not your son I cannot
rest till I learn who I am.''
``I can understand your feelings, Frank, but I must
defer the
explanation till to-morrow. I have fatigued
myself with talking. but to-morrow you shall
know all that I can tell you.''
``Forgive me for not thinking of your being tired,
mother,'' and he bent over and pressed his lips upon
the cheek of the sick woman. ``But don't talk any
more. Wait till to-morrow.''
In the afternoon Frank had a call from Sam Pomeroy.
``The club is to play to-morrow afternoon against
a picked nine, Frank,'' he said. ``Will you be there?''
``I can't, Sam,'' he answered. ``My mother is very
sick, and it is my duty to stay at home with her.''
``We shall miss you--that is, all of us but one.
Tom Pinkerton said
yesterday that you ought to
resign, as you can't attend to your duties. He
wouldn't object to filling your place, I fancy.''
``He is
welcome to the place as soon as the club
feels like electing him,'' said Frank. ``Tell the boys
I am sorry I can't be on hand. They had better get
you to fill my place.''
``I'll mention it, but I don't think they'll see it in
that light. They're all
jealous of my superior playing,''
said Sam, humorously. ``Well, good-bye, Frank.
I hope your mother'll be better soon.''
``Thank you, Sam,'' answered Frank,
soberly. ``I
hope so, too, but she is very sick.''
The next day Mrs. Fowler again called Frank to
the bedside.
``Grace is gone out on an errand,'' she said, ``and
I can find no better time for telling you what I know
about you and the circumstances which led to my
assuming the
charge of you.''
``Are you strong enough, mother?''
``Yes, Frank. Thirteen years ago my husband and
myself occupied a small
tenement in that part of
Brooklyn know as Gowanus, not far from Greenwood
Cemetery. My husband was a
carpenter, and
though his wages were small he was generally
employed. We had been married three years, but had
no children of our own. Our expenses were small,
and we got on
comfortably, and should have continued
to do so, but that Mr. Fowler met with an
accident which
partially disabled him. He fell from
a high scaffold and broke his arm. This was set
and he was soon able to work again, but he must
also have met with some
internalinjury, for his full
strength never returned. Half a day's work tired
him more than a whole day's work
formerly had
done. Of course our
income was very much diminished,
and we were obliged to economize very closely.
This preyed upon my husband's mind and
seeing his
anxiety, I set about
considering how I could help
him, and earn my share of the expenses.
``One day in looking over the
advertising columns
of a New York paper I saw the following
advertisement:
`` `For adoption--A
healthy male
infant. The parents
are able to pay liberally for the child's maintenance,
but circumstances compel them to delegate
the care to another. Address for
interview A. M.'
``I had no sooner read this
advertisement than I
felt that it was just what I wanted. A liberal
compensation was promised, and under our present
circumstances would be
welcome, as it was urgently
needed. I mentioned the matter to my husband, and
he was finally induced to give his consent.
``Accordingly, I replied to the
advertisement.
``Three days passed in which I heard nothing from
it. But as we were sitting at the supper table at
six o'clock one afternoon, there came a knock at our
front door. I opened it, and saw before me a tall
stranger, a man of about thirty-five, of dark
complexion, and dark whiskers. He was well dressed,
and
evidently a gentleman in station.
`` `Is this Mrs. Fowler?' he asked.
`` `Yes, sir,' I answered, in some surprise
`` `Then may I beg
permission to enter your house
for a few minutes? I have something to say to you.'
``Still wondering, I led the way into the sitting-
room, where your father--where Mr. Fowler----''
``Call him my father--I know no other,'' said
Frank.
``Where your father was seated.
`` `You have answered an
advertisement,' said the
stranger.
`` `Yes, sir,' I replied.
`` `I am A. M.,' was his next
announcement. `Of
course I have received many letters, but on the whole
I was led to consider yours most favorably. I have
made inquiries about you in the
neighborhood, and
the answers have been
satisfactory. You have no
children of your own?'
`` `No, sir.'
`` `All the better. You would be able to give more
attention to this child.'
`` `Is it yours, sir?' I asked
`` `Ye-es,' he answered, with hesitation.
`Circumstances,' he continued, `circumstances which I need
not state, compel me to separate from it. Five hundred
dollars a year will be paid for its maintenance.'
``Five hundred dollars! I heard this with joy, for
it was
considerably more than my husband was able
to earn since his accident. It would make us
comfortable at once, and your father might work when
he pleased, without feeling any
anxiety about our
coming to want.
`` `Will that sum be
satisfactory?' asked the
stranger.
`` `It is very liberal,' I answered.
`` `I intended it to be so,' he said. `Since there is
no difficulty on this score, I am inclined to trust you
with the care of the child. But I must make two
conditions.'
`` `What are they, sir?'
`` `In the first place, you must not try to find out
the friends of the child. They do not desire to be
known. Another thing, you must move from Brooklyn.'
`` `Move from Brooklyn?' I repeated.
`` `Yes,' he answered,
firmly. `I do not think it
necessary to give you a reason for this condition.
Enough that it is
imperative. If you decline, our
negotiations are at an end.'
``I looked at my husband. He seemed as much
surprised as I was.
`` `Perhaps you will wish to
consult together,'
suggested our
visitor. `If so, I can give you twenty
minutes. I will remain in this room while you go
out and talk it over.'
``We acted on this hint, and went into the kitchen.
We
decided that though we should prefer to live in
Brooklyn, it would be worth our while to make the
sacrifice for the sake of the
addition to our
income.
We came in at the end of ten minutes, and announced
our decision. Our
visitor seemed to be very much
pleased.
`` `Where would you wish us to move?' asked your
father.
`` `I do not care to
designate any particular place.
I should prefer some small country town, from fifty
to a hundred miles distant. I suppose you will be
able to move soon?'
`` `Yes, sir; we will make it a point to do so. How
soon will the child be placed in our hands? Shall
we send for it?'
`` `No, no,' he said,
hastily. `I cannot tell you
exactly when, but it will be brought here probably in
the course of a day or two. I myself shall bring it,
and if at that time you wish to say anything
additional
you can do so.'
``He went away, leaving us surprised and somewhat
excited at the change that was to take place in
our lives. The next evening the sound of wheels was
heard, and a hack stopped at our gate. The same
gentleman descended
hurriedly with a child in his
arms--you were the child, Frank--and entered the
house.
`` `This is the child,' he said, placing it in my arms,
`and here is the first quarterly
installment of your
pay. Three months hence you will receive the same
sum from my agent in New York. Here is his address,'
and he placed a card in my hands. `Have
you anything to ask?'
`` `Suppose I wish to
communicate with you respecting
the child? Suppose he is sick?'
`` `Then write to A. M., care of Giles Warner, No.
---- Nassau Street. By the way, it will be necessary
for you to send him your postoffice address after
your
removal in order that he may send you your
quarterly dues.'
``With this he left us, entered the hack, and drove
off. I have never seen him since.''
CHAPTER III
LEFT ALONE
Frank listened to this
revelation with wonder.
For the first time in his life he asked himself, ``Who
am I?''
``How came I by my name, mother?'' he asked.
``I must tell you. After the sudden
departure of