Five thousand dollars wouldn't buy them from me to-day! I'll be a happy man when we go aboard that liner day after to-morrow." Day after to-morrow! The girl wondered.

At any rate, she would have that last letter then--the letter that was to contain whatever defense her young friend could offer to explain his dastardly act.

She waited eagerly for that final epistle.
The day dragged on, bringing at its close England's entrance into the war; and the Carlton bootblack was a prophet not without honor in a certain Texas heart.

And on the following morning there arrived a letter which was torn open by eager trembling fingers.

The letter spoke: DEAR LADY JUDGE: This is by far the hardest to write of all the letters you have had from me.