"Who's that?"
"Helloa, is that you, my boy?"
There was no answer, but a figure rushed through the darkness, seized DeGolyer, and in a hoarse whisper said:
"Come where there's a light."
"Why, what's the matter, Henry?"
"Come where there's a light."
DeGolyer followed him to a wretched place that bore the name of a public-house, and went with him into a room. A lamp sputtered on a shelf. Young Sawyer caught DeGolyer's hands.
"I have waited so long for you to come back to this dreadful place. I am all alone. Uncle is dead."
DeGolyer sat down without saying a word. He sat in silence, and then he asked:
"When did he die?"