CHAPTER III.
A SUPERFLUOUS FAMILY Kirkwood's face, as he turned to greet the new-comer, changed suddenly to an expression of surprise.
'Why, what have you been doing to your hair ?' he asked abruptly.
A stranger would have seen nothing remarkable in John Hewett's hair, unless he had reflected that, being so sparse, it had preserved its dark hue and its gloss somewhat unusually.

The short beard and whiskers were also of richer colour than comported with the rest of the man's appearance.

Judging from his features alone, one would have taken John for sixty at least; his years were in truth not quite two-and-fifty.

He had the look of one worn out with anxiety and hardship; the lines engraven upon his face were of extraordinary depth and frequency; there seemed to be little flesh between the dry skin and the bones which sharply outlined his visage.

The lips were, like those of his son, prominent and nervous, but none of Bob's shrewdness was here discoverable; feeling rather than intellect appeared to be the father's characteristic.