Still, a boy's hopefulness will grasp at a straw, and he battled with his despair.

His father was not dead--he would recover--at the hospital he would have the best medical assistance possible.

The coachman who sent the telegram would be sure to make things out at the worst.

Yes, when he got to Saint Nathaniel's he would find it was a false alarm, that there was nothing much the matter at all, and when his mother and Reginald arrived by the next train, he would be able to meet them with reassuring news.

It was not more than a ten-minutes' cab- drive from the terminus--the train was just in now; in twelve minutes this awful suspense would be at an end.
Such was the hurried rush of thoughts through the poor boy's brain during that dismal journey.