"That is not my real name. You see before you Robert Hunting, once your father's book-keeper."
Dan's handsome face darkened, and he said, bitterly:
"You killed my father!"
"Heaven help me, I fear I did!" sighed Davis—to call him by his later name.
"The money of which you robbed him caused him to fail, and failure led to his death."
"I have accused myself of this crime oftentimes," moaned Davis. "Don't think that the money brought happiness, for it did not."
"Where have you been all these years?"
"First, I went to Europe. There I remained a year. From Europe I went to Brazil, and engaged in business in Rio Janeiro. A year since I found my health failing, and have come back to New York to die. But before I die I want to make what reparation I can."
"You cannot call my father back to me," said Dan, sadly.