"You tried?" in astonishment.
"Yes, I didn't know anything about—about having a son—until it was too late. One of my associates—in the West—told me later. I tried to find out—where they had taken you, but the nurse in the hospital—had gone—and there was no record of her—or of—of you." He spoke with a great effort, striving against the drowsiness which from time to time attacked him. "They did things—differently in those days. She—your mother—never mentioned my name. We had had a quarrel—a serious quarrel—just after we were married——"
"Married?" Jeff leaned forward over the white coverlid toward the old man's distorted face. "You were married?" he whispered, awe-stricken.
"Yes, married, Jeff—married—I—I have the papers—at home—I'll show them to you——"
Jeff bent his head suddenly over the old man's lean fingers and kissed them impulsively.
"Married!" he murmured, "Thank God! Thank God for that."
The General's eyes followed him plaintively, while he struggled for breath. "Yes, it's true. In Topeka—Kansas. That's what I wanted to tell you. I couldn't go—I couldn't die without letting you know that. It didn't matter to her—she could forget. I did her a wrong, but not a great wrong, as I did you. I've thought about you all these years, Jeff. It's my secret—I've kept it a long time——"
He sank back into his pillows, exhausted, breathing heavily again, and the doctor who had stood in the doorway came forward. "I think you had better rest, General. Mr. Wray can come in later." But the General resolutely waved him aside with a movement that suggested his old authority.
"No, not yet—I'm better—I'll sleep again in a moment." And, as the doctor withdrew, the old man's grasp on Jeff's hand grew tighter. "They took you away from the hospital—without even giving you a name."
"Yes, sir—I had no name but the one they gave me." Jeff tried to make him stop talking, but he went on, striving desperately: