"To me, sir?" said he."Yes." Franz took them from Barrois and casting a glance at the cover, read:--"'To be given, after my death, to General Durand, ...ho shall bequeath the packet to his son, with an injunction to preserve it as containing an important document.'"Well, sir," asked Franz, "what do you wish me to do with this paper?" To preserve it, sealed up as it is, doubtless," said the procureur."No," replied Noirtier eagerly."Do you wish him to read it?" said Valentine."Yes," replied the old. The day was crisp and the leaves crunched under our feet. Dad took a deep breath."What's in your kit, son?" What do you mean? My saddle bags? Canteen and a poncho. There might be an energy bar. Are you hungry?" I asked. Dad laughed."After the food this weekend, I don't dare be hungry for a long time. No. It was something my best friend Darnell used to say to me. Once we were walking along a railroad track—we must have been twelve or thirteen years old—and we heard a train coming. It was a. More

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