The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. “I am not dependent upon any one. You've got me interested and curious. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. Bordered by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full view of a delightful and varied prospect. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. “So tell me what happened, all of it! I saw roses!” Shari exclaimed. ” “We will do it,” he declared.
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