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diff --git a/old/111-0.txt b/old/111-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 57d790b..0000000 --- a/old/111-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9263 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Freckles, by Gene Stratton-Porter - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Freckles - -Author: Gene Stratton-Porter - -Release Date: February, 1994 [eBook #111] -[Most recently updated: March 17, 2023] - -Language: English - -Produced by: An Anonymous Volunteer and David Widger - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRECKLES *** - - - - -FRECKLES - -By Gene Stratton-Porter - - - - - To all good Irishmen in general - and one CHARLES DARWIN PORTER - in particular - - - -Characters: - - - FRECKLES, a plucky waif who guards the Limberlost timber leases and - dreams of Angels. - - THE SWAMP ANGEL, in whom Freckles' sweetest dream materializes. - - MCLEAN, a member of a Grand Rapids lumber company, who befriends - Freckles. - - MRS. DUNCAN, who gives mother-love and a home to Freckles. - - DUNCAN, head teamster of McLean's timber gang. - - THE BIRD WOMAN, who is collecting camera studies of birds for a book. - - LORD AND LADY O'MORE, who come from Ireland in quest of a lost relative. - - THE MAN OF AFFAIRS, brusque of manner, but big of heart. - - WESSNER, a Dutch timber-thief who wants rascality made easy. - - BLACK JACK, a villain to whom thought of repentance comes too late. - - SEARS, camp cook. - - - - -Contents: - - - I Wherein Great Risks Are Taken and the Limberlost Guard Is Hired - - II Wherein Freckles Proves His Mettle and Finds Friends - - III Wherein a Feather Falls and a Soul Is Born - - IV Wherein Freckles Faces Trouble Bravely and Opens the Way for New - Experiences - - V Wherein an Angel Materializes and a Man Worships - - VI Wherein a Fight Occurs and Women Shoot Straight - - VII Wherein Freckles Wins Honor and Finds a Footprint on the Trail - - VIII Wherein Freckles Meets a Man of Affairs and Loses Nothing by the - Encounter - - IX Wherein the Limberlost Falls upon Mrs. Duncan and Freckles Comes to - the Rescue - - X Wherein Freckles Strives Mightily and the Swamp Angel Rewards Him - - XI Wherein the Butterflies Go on a Spree and Freckles Informs the Bird - Woman - - XII Wherein Black Jack Captures Freckles and the Angel Captures Jack - - XIII Wherein the Angel Releases Freckles, and the Curse of Black Jack - Falls upon Her - - XIV Wherein Freckles Nurses a Heartache and Black Jack Drops Out - - XV Wherein Freckles and the Angel Try Taking a Picture, and Little - Chicken Furnishes the Subject - - XVI Wherein the Angel Locates a Rare Tree and Dines with the Gang - - XVII Wherein Freckles Offers His Life for His Love and Gets a Broken - Body - - XVIII Wherein Freckles Refuses Love Without Knowledge of Honorable - Birth, and the Angel Goes in Quest of it - - XIX Wherein Freckles Finds His Birthright and the Angel Loses Her Heart - - XX Wherein Freckles Returns to the Limberlost, and Lord O'More Sails for - Ireland Without Him - - - - -CHAPTER I - -Wherein Great Risks Are Taken and the Limberlost Guard Is Hired - -Freckles came down the corduroy that crosses the lower end of the -Limberlost. At a glance he might have been mistaken for a tramp, but he -was truly seeking work. He was intensely eager to belong somewhere and -to be attached to almost any enterprise that would furnish him food and -clothing. - -Long before he came in sight of the camp of the Grand Rapids Lumber -Company, he could hear the cheery voices of the men, the neighing of the -horses, and could scent the tempting odors of cooking food. A feeling -of homeless friendlessness swept over him in a sickening wave. Without -stopping to think, he turned into the newly made road and followed it to -the camp, where the gang was making ready for supper and bed. - -The scene was intensely attractive. The thickness of the swamp made a -dark, massive background below, while above towered gigantic trees. -The men were calling jovially back and forth as they unharnessed tired -horses that fell into attitudes of rest and crunched, in deep content, -the grain given them. Duncan, the brawny Scotch head-teamster, lovingly -wiped the flanks of his big bays with handfuls of pawpaw leaves, as he -softly whistled, “O wha will be my dearie, O!” and a cricket beneath -the leaves at his feet accompanied him. The green wood fire hissed and -crackled merrily. Wreathing tongues of flame wrapped around the big -black kettles, and when the cook lifted the lids to plunge in his -testing-fork, gusts of savory odors escaped. - -Freckles approached him. - -“I want to speak with the Boss,” he said. - -The cook glanced at him and answered carelessly: “He can't use you.” - -The color flooded Freckles' face, but he said simply: “If you will be -having the goodness to point him out, we will give him a chance to do -his own talking.” - -With a shrug of astonishment, the cook led the way to a rough board -table where a broad, square-shouldered man was bending over some -account-books. - -“Mr. McLean, here's another man wanting to be taken on the gang, I -suppose,” he said. - -“All right,” came the cheery answer. “I never needed a good man more -than I do just now.” - -The manager turned a page and carefully began a new line. - -“No use of your bothering with this fellow,” volunteered the cook. “He -hasn't but one hand.” - -The flush on Freckles' face burned deeper. His lips thinned to a mere -line. He lifted his shoulders, took a step forward, and thrust out his -right arm, from which the sleeve dangled empty at the wrist. - -“That will do, Sears,” came the voice of the Boss sharply. “I will -interview my man when I finish this report.” - -He turned to his work, while the cook hurried to the fires. Freckles -stood one instant as he had braced himself to meet the eyes of the -manager; then his arm dropped and a wave of whiteness swept him. The -Boss had not even turned his head. He had used the possessive. When he -said “my man,” the hungry heart of Freckles went reaching toward him. - -The boy drew a quivering breath. Then he whipped off his old hat and -beat the dust from it carefully. With his left hand he caught the right -sleeve, wiped his sweaty face, and tried to straighten his hair with -his fingers. He broke a spray of ironwort beside him and used the purple -bloom to beat the dust from his shoulders and limbs. The Boss, busy over -his report, was, nevertheless, vaguely alive to the toilet being made -behind him, and scored one for the man. - -McLean was a Scotchman. It was his habit to work slowly and -methodically. The men of his camps never had known him to be in a hurry -or to lose his temper. Discipline was inflexible, but the Boss was -always kind. His habits were simple. He shared camp life with his gangs. -The only visible signs of wealth consisted of a big, shimmering diamond -stone of ice and fire that glittered and burned on one of his fingers, -and the dainty, beautiful thoroughbred mare he rode between camps and -across the country on business. - -No man of McLean's gangs could honestly say that he ever had been -overdriven or underpaid. The Boss never had exacted any deference from -his men, yet so intense was his personality that no man of them ever had -attempted a familiarity. They all knew him to be a thorough gentleman, -and that in the great timber city several millions stood to his credit. - -He was the only son of that McLean who had sent out the finest ships -ever built in Scotland. That his son should carry on this business after -the father's death had been his ambition. He had sent the boy through -the universities of Oxford and Edinburgh, and allowed him several years' -travel before he should attempt his first commission for the firm. - -Then he was ordered to southern Canada and Michigan to purchase a -consignment of tall, straight timber for masts, and south to Indiana for -oak beams. The young man entered these mighty forests, parts of which -lay untouched since the dawn of the morning of time. The clear, cool, -pungent atmosphere was intoxicating. The intense silence, like that of a -great empty cathedral, fascinated him. He gradually learned that, to -the shy wood creatures that darted across his path or peeped inquiringly -from leafy ambush, he was brother. He found himself approaching, with a -feeling of reverence, those majestic trees that had stood through ages -of sun, wind, and snow. Soon it became difficult to fell them. When he -had filled his order and returned home, he was amazed to learn that in -the swamps and forests he had lost his heart and it was calling--forever -calling him. - -When he inherited his father's property, he promptly disposed of it, -and, with his mother, founded a home in a splendid residence in the -outskirts of Grand Rapids. With three partners, he organized a lumber -company. His work was to purchase, fell, and ship the timber to the -mills. Marshall managed the milling process and passed the lumber to the -factory. From the lumber, Barthol made beautiful and useful furniture, -which Uptegrove scattered all over the world from a big wholesale house. -Of the thousands who saw their faces reflected on the polished surfaces -of that furniture and found comfort in its use, few there were to whom -it suggested mighty forests and trackless swamps, and the man, big -of soul and body, who cut his way through them, and with the eye of -experience doomed the proud trees that were now entering the homes of -civilization for service. - -When McLean turned from his finished report, he faced a young man, -yet under twenty, tall, spare, heavily framed, closely freckled, and -red-haired, with a homely Irish face, but in the steady gray eyes, -straightly meeting his searching ones of blue, there was unswerving -candor and the appearance of longing not to be ignored. He was dressed -in the roughest of farm clothing, and seemed tired to the point of -falling. - -“You are looking for work?” questioned McLean. - -“Yis,” answered Freckles. - -“I am very sorry,” said the Boss with genuine sympathy in his every -tone, “but there is only one man I want at present--a hardy, big fellow -with a stout heart and a strong body. I hoped that you would do, but I -am afraid you are too young and scarcely strong enough.” - -Freckles stood, hat in hand, watching McLean. - -“And what was it you thought I might be doing?” he asked. - -The Boss could scarcely repress a start. Somewhere before accident and -poverty there had been an ancestor who used cultivated English, even -with an accent. The boy spoke in a mellow Irish voice, sweet and pure. -It was scarcely definite enough to be called brogue, yet there was a -trick in the turning of the sentence, the wrong sound of a letter here -and there, that was almost irresistible to McLean, and presaged a misuse -of infinitives and possessives with which he was very familiar and -which touched him nearly. He was of foreign birth, and despite years of -alienation, in times of strong feeling he committed inherited sins of -accent and construction. - -“It's no child's job,” answered McLean. “I am the field manager of a -big lumber company. We have just leased two thousand acres of the -Limberlost. Many of these trees are of great value. We can't leave our -camp, six miles south, for almost a year yet; so we have blazed a trail -and strung barbed wires securely around this lease. Before we return to -our work, I must put this property in the hands of a reliable, brave, -strong man who will guard it every hour of the day, and sleep with one -eye open at night. I shall require the entire length of the trail to be -walked at least twice each day, to make sure that our lines are up and -that no one has been trespassing.” - -Freckles was leaning forward, absorbing every word with such intense -eagerness that he was beguiling the Boss into explanations he had never -intended making. - -“But why wouldn't that be the finest job in the world for me?” he -pleaded. “I am never sick. I could walk the trail twice, three times -every day, and I'd be watching sharp all the while.” - -“It's because you are scarcely more than a boy, and this will be a -trying job for a work-hardened man,” answered McLean. “You see, in the -first place, you would be afraid. In stretching our lines, we killed six -rattlesnakes almost as long as your body and as thick as your arm. It's -the price of your life to start through the marshgrass surrounding the -swamp unless you are covered with heavy leather above your knees. - -“You should be able to swim in case high water undermines the temporary -bridge we have built where Sleepy Snake Creek enters the swamp. The fall -and winter changes of weather are abrupt and severe, while I would want -strict watch kept every day. You would always be alone, and I don't -guarantee what is in the Limberlost. It is lying here as it has lain -since the beginning of time, and it is alive with forms and voices. I -don't pretend to say what all of them come from; but from a few slinking -shapes I've seen, and hair-raising yells I've heard, I'd rather not -confront their owners myself; and I am neither weak nor fearful. - -“Worst of all, any man who will enter the swamp to mark and steal -timber is desperate. One of my employees at the south camp, John Carter, -compelled me to discharge him for a number of serious reasons. He came -here, entered the swamp alone, and succeeded in locating and marking -a number of valuable trees that he was endeavoring to sell to a rival -company when we secured the lease. He has sworn to have these trees if -he has to die or to kill others to get them; and he is a man that the -strongest would not care to meet.” - -“But if he came to steal trees, wouldn't he bring teams and men enough: -that all anyone could do would be to watch and be after you?” queried -the boy. - -“Yes,” replied McLean. - -“Then why couldn't I be watching just as closely, and coming as fast, as -an older, stronger man?” asked Freckles. - -“Why, by George, you could!” exclaimed McLean. “I don't know as the size -of a man would be half so important as his grit and faithfulness, come -to think of it. Sit on that log there and we will talk it over. What is -your name?” - -Freckles shook his head at the proffer of a seat, and folding his arms, -stood straight as the trees around him. He grew a shade whiter, but his -eyes never faltered. - -“Freckles!” he said. - -“Good enough for everyday,” laughed McLean, “but I scarcely can put -'Freckles' on the company's books. Tell me your name.” - -“I haven't any name,” replied the boy. - -“I don't understand,” said McLean. - -“I was thinking from the voice and the face of you that you wouldn't,” - said Freckles slowly. “I've spent more time on it than I ever did on -anything else in all me life, and I don't understand. Does it seem to -you that anyone would take a newborn baby and row over it, until it was -bruised black, cut off its hand, and leave it out in a bitter night -on the steps of a charity home, to the care of strangers? That's what -somebody did to me.” - -McLean stared aghast. He had no reply ready, and presently in a low -voice he suggested: “And after?” - -“The Home people took me in, and I was there the full legal age and -several years over. For the most part we were a lot of little Irishmen -together. They could always find homes for the other children, but -nobody would ever be wanting me on account of me arm.” - -“Were they kind to you?” McLean regretted the question the minute it was -asked. - -“I don't know,” answered Freckles. The reply sounded so hopeless, even -to his own ears, that he hastened to qualify it by adding: “You see, -it's like this, sir. Kindnesses that people are paid to lay off in job -lots and that belong equally to several hundred others, ain't going to -be soaking into any one fellow so much.” - -“Go on,” said McLean, nodding comprehendingly. - -“There's nothing worth the taking of your time to tell,” replied -Freckles. “The Home was in Chicago, and I was there all me life until -three months ago. When I was too old for the training they gave to the -little children, they sent me to the closest ward school as long as the -law would let them; but I was never like any of the other children, and -they all knew it. I'd to go and come like a prisoner, and be working -around the Home early and late for me board and clothes. I always wanted -to learn mighty bad, but I was glad when that was over. - -“Every few days, all me life, I'd to be called up, looked over, and -refused a home and love, on account of me hand and ugly face; but it was -all the home I'd ever known, and I didn't seem to belong to any place -else. - -“Then a new superintendent was put in. He wasn't for being like any of -the others, and he swore he'd weed me out the first thing he did. He -made a plan to send me down the State to a man he said he knew who -needed a boy. He wasn't for remembering to tell that man that I was a -hand short, and he knocked me down the minute he found I was the boy who -had been sent him. Between noon and that evening, he and his son close -my age had me in pretty much the same shape in which I was found in -the beginning, so I lay awake that night and ran away. I'd like to have -squared me account with that boy before I left, but I didn't dare for -fear of waking the old man, and I knew I couldn't handle the two of -them; but I'm hoping to meet him alone some day before I die.” - -McLean tugged at his mustache to hide the smile on his lips, but he -liked the boy all the better for this confession. - -“I didn't even have to steal clothes to get rid of starting in me Home -ones,” Freckles continued, “for they had already taken all me clean, -neat things for the boy and put me into his rags, and that went almost -as sore as the beatings, for where I was we were always kept tidy and -sweet-smelling, anyway. I hustled clear into this State before I learned -that man couldn't have kept me if he'd wanted to. When I thought I -was good and away from him, I commenced hunting work, but it is with -everybody else just as it is with you, sir. Big, strong, whole men are -the only ones for being wanted.” - -“I have been studying over this matter,” answered McLean. “I am not so -sure but that a man no older than you and similar in every way could do -this work very well, if he were not a coward, and had it in him to be -trustworthy and industrious.” - -Freckles came forward a step. - -“If you will give me a job where I can earn me food, clothes, and a -place to sleep,” he said, “if I can have a Boss to work for like other -men, and a place I feel I've a right to, I will do precisely what you -tell me or die trying.” - -He spoke so convincingly that McLean believed, although in his heart he -knew that to employ a stranger would be wretched business for a man with -the interests he had involved. - -“Very well,” the Boss found himself answering, “I will enter you on my -pay rolls. We'll have supper, and then I will provide you with clean -clothing, wading-boots, the wire-mending apparatus, and a revolver. -The first thing in the morning, I will take you the length of the trail -myself and explain fully what I want done. All I ask of you is to come -to me at once at the south camp and tell me as a man if you find this -job too hard for you. It will not surprise me. It is work that few men -would perform faithfully. What name shall I put down?” - -Freckles' gaze never left McLean's face, and the Boss saw the swift -spasm of pain that swept his lonely, sensitive features. - -“I haven't any name,” he said stubbornly, “no more than one somebody -clapped on to me when they put me on the Home books, with not the -thought or care they'd name a house cat. I've seen how they enter those -poor little abandoned devils often enough to know. What they called me -is no more my name than it is yours. I don't know what mine is, and I -never will; but I am going to be your man and do your work, and I'll be -glad to answer to any name you choose to call me. Won't you please be -giving me a name, Mr. McLean?” - -The Boss wheeled abruptly and began stacking his books. What he was -thinking was probably what any other gentleman would have thought in the -circumstances. With his eyes still downcast, and in a voice harsh with -huskiness, he spoke. - -“I will tell you what we will do, my lad,” he said. “My father was my -ideal man, and I loved him better than any other I have ever known. He -went out five years ago, but that he would have been proud to leave you -his name I firmly believe. If I give to you the name of my nearest kin -and the man I loved best--will that do?” - -Freckles' rigid attitude relaxed suddenly. His head dropped, and big -tears splashed on the soiled calico shirt. McLean was not surprised at -the silence, for he found that talking came none too easily just then. - -“All right,” he said. “I will write it on the roll--James Ross McLean.” - -“Thank you mightily,” said Freckles. “That makes me feel almost as if I -belonged, already.” - -“You do,” said McLean. “Until someone armed with every right comes to -claim you, you are mine. Now, come and take a bath, have some supper, -and go to bed.” - -As Freckles followed into the lights and sounds of the camp, his heart -and soul were singing for joy. - - - -CHAPTER II - -Wherein Freckles Proves His Mettle and Finds Friends - -Next morning found Freckles in clean, whole clothing, fed, and rested. -Then McLean outfitted him and gave him careful instruction in the use of -his weapon. The Boss showed him around the timber-line, and engaged him -a place to board with the family of his head teamster, Duncan, whom he -had brought from Scotland with him, and who lived in a small clearing -he was working out between the swamp and the corduroy. When the gang was -started for the south camp, Freckles was left to guard a fortune in the -Limberlost. That he was under guard himself those first weeks he never -knew. - -Each hour was torture to the boy. The restricted life of a great -city orphanage was the other extreme of the world compared with the -Limberlost. He was afraid for his life every minute. The heat was -intense. The heavy wading-boots rubbed his feet until they bled. He was -sore and stiff from his long tramp and outdoor exposure. The seven -miles of trail was agony at every step. He practiced at night, under the -direction of Duncan, until he grew sure in the use of his revolver. He -cut a stout hickory cudgel, with a knot on the end as big as his fist; -this never left his hand. What he thought in those first days he himself -could not recall clearly afterward. - -His heart stood still every time he saw the beautiful marsh-grass begin -a sinuous waving AGAINST the play of the wind, as McLean had told him it -would. He bolted half a mile with the first boom of the bittern, and his -hat lifted with every yelp of the sheitpoke. Once he saw a lean, shadowy -form following him, and fired his revolver. Then he was frightened worse -than ever for fear it might have been Duncan's collie. - -The first afternoon that he found his wires down, and he was compelled -to plunge knee deep into the black swamp-muck to restring them, he -became so ill from fear and nervousness that he scarcely could control -his shaking hand to do the work. With every step, he felt that he would -miss secure footing and be swallowed in that clinging sea of blackness. -In dumb agony he plunged forward, clinging to the posts and trees until -he had finished restringing and testing the wire. He had consumed -much time. Night closed in. The Limberlost stirred gently, then shook -herself, growled, and awoke around him. - -There seemed to be a great owl hooting from every hollow tree, and -a little one screeching from every knothole. The bellowing of big -bullfrogs was not sufficiently deafening to shut out the wailing of -whip-poor-wills that seemed to come from every bush. Nighthawks swept -past him with their shivering cry, and bats struck his face. A prowling -wildcat missed its catch and screamed with rage. A straying fox bayed -incessantly for its mate. - -The hair on the back of Freckles' neck arose as bristles, and his knees -wavered beneath him. He could not see whether the dreaded snakes were on -the trail, or, in the pandemonium, hear the rattle for which McLean had -cautioned him to listen. He stood motionless in an agony of fear. His -breath whistled between his teeth. The perspiration ran down his face -and body in little streams. - -Something big, black, and heavy came crashing through the swamp close -to him, and with a yell of utter panic Freckles ran--how far he did not -know; but at last he gained control over himself and retraced his steps. -His jaws set stiffly and the sweat dried on his body. When he reached -the place from which he had started to run, he turned and with measured -steps made his way down the line. After a time he realized that he was -only walking, so he faced that sea of horrors again. When he came toward -the corduroy, the cudgel fell to test the wire at each step. - -Sounds that curdled his blood seemed to encompass him, and shapes of -terror to draw closer and closer. Fear had so gained the mastery that he -did not dare look behind him; and just when he felt that he would fall -dead before he ever reached the clearing, came Duncan's rolling call: -“Freckles! Freckles!” A shuddering sob burst in the boy's dry throat; -but he only told Duncan that finding the wire down had caused the delay. - -The next morning he started on time. Day after day, with his heart -pounding, he ducked, dodged, ran when he could, and fought when he was -brought to bay. If he ever had an idea of giving up, no one knew it; for -he clung to his job without the shadow of wavering. All these things, in -so far as he guessed them, Duncan, who had been set to watch the first -weeks of Freckles' work, carried to the Boss at the south camp; but -the innermost, exquisite torture of the thing the big Scotchman never -guessed, and McLean, with his finer perceptions, came only a little -closer. - -After a few weeks, when Freckles learned that he was still living, that -he had a home, and the very first money he ever had possessed was safe -in his pockets, he began to grow proud. He yet side-stepped, dodged, and -hurried to avoid being late again, but he was gradually developing the -fearlessness that men ever acquire of dangers to which they are hourly -accustomed. - -His heart seemed to be leaping when his first rattler disputed the trail -with him, but he mustered courage to attack it with his club. After its -head had been crushed, he mastered an Irishman's inborn repugnance for -snakes sufficiently to cut off its rattles to show Duncan. With this -victory, his greatest fear of them was gone. - -Then he began to realize that with the abundance of food in the swamp, -flesh-hunters would not come on the trail and attack him, and he had his -revolver for defence if they did. He soon learned to laugh at the big, -floppy birds that made horrible noises. One day, watching behind a tree, -he saw a crane solemnly performing a few measures of a belated nuptial -song-and-dance with his mate. Realizing that it was intended in -tenderness, no matter how it appeared, the lonely, starved heart of the -boy sympathized with them. - -Before the first month passed, he was fairly easy about his job; by the -next he rather liked it. Nature can be trusted to work her own miracle -in the heart of any man whose daily task keeps him alone among her -sights, sounds, and silences. - -When day after day the only thing that relieved his utter loneliness was -the companionship of the birds and beasts of the swamp, it was the -most natural thing in the world that Freckles should turn to them for -friendship. He began by instinctively protecting the weak and helpless. -He was astonished at the quickness with which they became accustomed to -him and the disregard they showed for his movements, when they learned -that he was not a hunter, while the club he carried was used more -frequently for their benefit than his own. He scarcely could believe -what he saw. - -From the effort to protect the birds and animals, it was only a short -step to the possessive feeling, and with that sprang the impulse to -caress and provide. Through fall, when brooding was finished and the -upland birds sought the swamp in swarms to feast on its seeds and -berries, Freckles was content with watching them and speculating about -them. Outside of half a dozen of the very commonest they were strangers -to him. The likeness of their actions to humanity was an hourly -surprise. - -When black frost began stripping the Limberlost, cutting the ferns, -shearing the vines from the trees, mowing the succulent green things -of the swale, and setting the leaves swirling down, he watched the -departing troops of his friends with dismay. He began to realize that he -would be left alone. He made especial efforts toward friendliness with -the hope that he could induce some of them to stay. It was then that he -conceived the idea of carrying food to the birds; for he saw that they -were leaving for lack of it; but he could not stop them. Day after day, -flocks gathered and departed: by the time the first snow whitened -his trail around the Limberlost, there were left only the little -black-and-white juncos, the sapsuckers, yellow-hammers, a few patriarchs -among the flaming cardinals, the blue jays, the crows, and the quail. - -Then Freckles began his wizard work. He cleared a space of swale, and -twice a day he spread a birds' banquet. By the middle of December the -strong winds of winter had beaten most of the seed from the grass and -bushes. The snow fell, covering the swamp, and food was very scarce and -difficult to find. The birds scarcely waited until Freckles' back was -turned to attack his provisions. In a few weeks they flew toward the -clearing to meet him. During the bitter weather of January they came -halfway to the cabin every morning, and fluttered around him as -doves all the way to the feeding-ground. Before February they were so -accustomed to him, and so hunger-driven, that they would perch on -his head and shoulders, and the saucy jays would try to pry into his -pockets. - -Then Freckles added to wheat and crumbs, every scrap of refuse food he -could find at the cabin. He carried to his pets the parings of apples, -turnips, potatoes, stray cabbage-leaves, and carrots, and tied to the -bushes meat-bones having scraps of fat and gristle. One morning, coming -to his feeding-ground unusually early, he found a gorgeous cardinal -and a rabbit side by side sociably nibbling a cabbage-leaf, and that -instantly gave to him the idea of cracking nuts, from the store he had -gathered for Duncan's children, for the squirrels, in the effort to add -them to his family. Soon he had them coming--red, gray, and black; then -he became filled with a vast impatience that he did not know their names -or habits. - -So the winter passed. Every week McLean rode to the Limberlost; never on -the same day or at the same hour. Always he found Freckles at his work, -faithful and brave, no matter how severe the weather. - -The boy's earnings constituted his first money; and when the Boss -explained to him that he could leave them safe at a bank and carry away -a scrap of paper that represented the amount, he went straight on every -payday and made his deposit, keeping out barely what was necessary for -his board and clothing. What he wanted to do with his money he did not -know, but it gave to him a sense of freedom and power to feel that it -was there--it was his and he could have it when he chose. In imitation -of McLean, he bought a small pocket account-book, in which he carefully -set down every dollar he earned and every penny he spent. As his -expenses were small and the Boss paid him generously, it was astonishing -how his little hoard grew. - -That winter held the first hours of real happiness in Freckles' life. He -was free. He was doing a man's work faithfully, through every rigor of -rain, snow, and blizzard. He was gathering a wonderful strength of body, -paying his way, and saving money. Every man of the gang and of that -locality knew that he was under the protection of McLean, who was -a power, this had the effect of smoothing Freckles' path in many -directions. - -Mrs. Duncan showed him that individual kindness for which his hungry -heart was longing. She had a hot drink ready for him when he came from -a freezing day on the trail. She knit him a heavy mitten for his left -hand, and devised a way to sew and pad the right sleeve that protected -the maimed arm in bitter weather. She patched his clothing--frequently -torn by the wire--and saved kitchen scraps for his birds, not because -she either knew or cared anything about them, but because she herself -was close enough to the swamp to be touched by its utter loneliness. -When Duncan laughed at her for this, she retorted: “My God, mannie, if -Freckles hadna the birds and the beasts he would be always alone. It was -never meant for a human being to be so solitary. He'd get touched in the -head if he hadna them to think for and to talk to.” - -“How much answer do ye think he gets to his talkin', lass?” laughed -Duncan. - -“He gets the answer that keeps the eye bright, the heart happy, and the -feet walking faithful the rough path he's set them in,” answered Mrs. -Duncan earnestly. - -Duncan walked away appearing very thoughtful. The next morning he gave -an ear from the corn he was shelling for his chickens to Freckles, and -told him to carry it to his wild chickens in the Limberlost. Freckles -laughed delightedly. - -“Me chickens!” he said. “Why didn't I ever think of that before? Of -course they are! They are just little, brightly colored cocks and hens! -But 'wild' is no good. What would you say to me 'wild chickens' being a -good deal tamer than yours here in your yard?” - -“Hoot, lad!” cried Duncan. - -“Make yours light on your head and eat out of your hands and pockets,” - challenged Freckles. - -“Go and tell your fairy tales to the wee people! They're juist brash on -believin' things,” said Duncan. “Ye canna invent any story too big to -stop them from callin' for a bigger.” - -“I dare you to come see!” retorted Freckles. - -“Take ye!” said Duncan. “If ye make juist ane bird licht on your heid -or eat frae your hand, ye are free to help yoursel' to my corn-crib and -wheat bin the rest of the winter.” - -Freckles sprang in air and howled in glee. - -“Oh, Duncan! You're too, aisy” he cried. “When will you come?” - -“I'll come next Sabbath,” said Duncan. “And I'll believe the birds of -the Limberlost are tame as barnyard fowl when I see it, and no sooner!” - -After that Freckles always spoke of the birds as his chickens, and the -Duncans followed his example. The very next Sabbath, Duncan, with his -wife and children, followed Freckles to the swamp. They saw a sight so -wonderful it will keep them talking all the remainder of their lives, -and make them unfailing friends of all the birds. - -Freckles' chickens were awaiting him at the edge of the clearing. They -cut the frosty air around his head into curves and circles of crimson, -blue, and black. They chased each other from Freckles, and swept so -closely themselves that they brushed him with their outspread wings. - -At their feeding-ground Freckles set down his old pail of scraps and -swept the snow from a small level space with a broom improvised of -twigs. As soon as his back was turned, the birds clustered over the -food, snatching scraps to carry to the nearest bushes. Several of the -boldest, a big crow and a couple of jays, settled on the rim and feasted -at leisure, while a cardinal, that hesitated to venture, fumed and -scolded from a twig overhead. - -Then Freckles scattered his store. At once the ground resembled the -spread mantle of Montezuma, except that this mass of gaily colored -feathers was on the backs of living birds. While they feasted, Duncan -gripped his wife's arm and stared in astonishment; for from the bushes -and dry grass, with gentle cheeping and queer, throaty chatter, as if to -encourage each other, came flocks of quail. Before anyone saw it arrive, -a big gray rabbit sat in the midst of the feast, contentedly gnawing a -cabbage-leaf. - -“Weel, I be drawed on!” came Mrs. Duncan's tense whisper. - -“Shu-shu,” cautioned Duncan. - -Lastly Freckles removed his cap. He began filling it with handfuls of -wheat from his pockets. In a swarm the grain-eaters arose around him as -a flock of tame pigeons. They perched on his arms and the cap, and in -the stress of hunger, forgetting all caution, a brilliant cock cardinal -and an equally gaudy jay fought for a perching-place on his head. - -“Weel, I'm beat,” muttered Duncan, forgetting the silence imposed on his -wife. “I'll hae to give in. 'Seein' is believin'. A man wad hae to see -that to believe it. We mauna let the Boss miss that sight, for it's a -chance will no likely come twice in a life. Everything is snowed under -and thae craturs near starved, but trustin' Freckles that complete they -are tamer than our chickens. Look hard, bairns!” he whispered. “Ye winna -see the like o' yon again, while God lets ye live. Notice their color -against the ice and snow, and the pretty skippin' ways of them! And -spunky! Weel, I'm heat fair!” - -Freckles emptied his cap, turned his pockets and scattered his last -grain. Then he waved his watching friends good-bye and started down the -timber-line. - -A week later, Duncan and Freckles arose from breakfast to face the -bitterest morning of the winter. When Freckles, warmly capped and -gloved, stepped to the corner of the kitchen for his scrap-pail, he -found a big pan of steaming boiled wheat on the top of it. He wheeled to -Mrs. Duncan with a shining face. - -“Were you fixing this warm food for me chickens or yours?” he asked. - -“It's for yours, Freckles,” she said. “I was afeared this cold weather -they wadna lay good without a warm bite now and then.” - -Duncan laughed as he stepped to the other room for his pipe; but -Freckles faced Mrs. Duncan with a trace of every pang of starved -mother-hunger he ever had suffered written large on his homely, -splotched, narrow features. - -“Oh, how I wish you were my mother!” he cried. - -Mrs. Duncan attempted an echo of her husband's laugh. - -“Lord love the lad!” she exclaimed. “Why, Freckles, are ye no bright -enough to learn without being taught by a woman that I am your mither? -If a great man like yoursel' dinna ken that, learn it now and ne'er -forget it. Ance a woman is the wife of any man, she becomes wife to all -men for having had the wifely experience she kens! Ance a man-child has -beaten his way to life under the heart of a woman, she is mither to -all men, for the hearts of mithers are everywhere the same. Bless ye, -laddie, I am your mither!” - -She tucked the coarse scarf she had knit for him closer over his chest -and pulled his cap lower over his ears, but Freckles, whipping it -off and holding it under his arm, caught her rough, reddened hand and -pressed it to his lips in a long kiss. Then he hurried away to hide the -happy, embarrassing tears that were coming straight from his swelling -heart. - -Mrs. Duncan, sobbing unrestrainedly, swept into the adjoining room and -threw herself into Duncan's arms. - -“Oh, the puir lad!” she wailed. “Oh, the puir mither-hungry lad! He -breaks my heart!” - -Duncan's arms closed convulsively around his wife. With a big, brown -hand he lovingly stroked her rough, sorrel hair. - -“Sarah, you're a guid woman!” he said. “You're a michty guid woman! Ye -hae a way o' speakin' out at times that's like the inspired prophets of -the Lord. If that had been put to me, now, I'd 'a' felt all I kent how -to and been keen enough to say the richt thing; but dang it, I'd 'a' -stuttered and stammered and got naething out that would ha' done onybody -a mite o' good. But ye, Sarah! Did ye see his face, woman? Ye sent him -off lookin' leke a white light of holiness had passed ower and settled -on him. Ye sent the lad away too happy for mortal words, Sarah. And -ye made me that proud o' ye! I wouldna trade ye an' my share o' the -Limberlost with ony king ye could mention.” - -He relaxed his clasp, and setting a heavy hand on each shoulder, he -looked straight into her eyes. - -“Ye're prime, Sarah! Juist prime!” he said. - -Sarah Duncan stood alone in the middle of her two-roomed log cabin and -lifted a bony, clawlike pair of hands, reddened by frequent immersion -in hot water, cracked and chafed by exposure to cold, black-lined by -constant battle with swamp-loam, calloused with burns, and stared at -them wonderingly. - -“Pretty-lookin' things ye are!” she whispered. “But ye hae juist been -kissed. And by such a man! Fine as God ever made at His verra best. -Duncan wouldna trade wi' a king! Na! Nor I wadna trade with a queen wi' -a palace, an' velvet gowns, an' diamonds big as hazelnuts, an' a hundred -visitors a day into the bargain. Ye've been that honored I'm blest if -I can bear to souse ye in dish-water. Still, that kiss winna come off! -Naething can take it from me, for it's mine till I dee. Lord, if I amna -proud! Kisses on these old claws! Weel, I be drawed on!” - - - -CHAPTER III - -Wherein a Feather Falls and a Soul Is Born - -So Freckles fared through the bitter winter. He was very happy. He -had hungered for freedom, love, and appreciation so long! He had been -unspeakably lonely at the Home; and the utter loneliness of a great -desert or forest is not so difficult to endure as the loneliness of -being constantly surrounded by crowds of people who do not care in the -least whether one is living or dead. - -All through the winter Freckles' entire energy was given to keeping up -his lines and his “chickens” from freezing or starving. When the first -breath of spring touched the Limberlost, and the snow receded before it; -when the catkins began to bloom; when there came a hint of green to the -trees, bushes, and swale; when the rushes lifted their heads, and the -pulse of the newly resurrected season beat strongly in the heart of -nature, something new stirred in the breast of the boy. - -Nature always levies her tribute. Now she laid a powerful hand on the -soul of Freckles, to which the boy's whole being responded, though -he had not the least idea what was troubling him. Duncan accepted his -wife's theory that it was a touch of spring fever, but Freckles knew -better. He never had been so well. Clean, hot, and steady the blood -pulsed in his veins. He was always hungry, and his most difficult work -tired him not at all. For long months, without a single intermission, -he had tramped those seven miles of trail twice each day, through every -conceivable state of weather. With the heavy club he gave his wires a -sure test, and between sections, first in play, afterward to keep his -circulation going, he had acquired the skill of an expert drum major. -In his work there was exercise for every muscle of his body each hour of -the day, at night a bath, wholesome food, and sound sleep in a room that -never knew fire. He had gained flesh and color, and developed a greater -strength and endurance than anyone ever could have guessed. - -Nor did the Limberlost contain last year's terrors. He had been with -her in her hour of desolation, when stripped bare and deserted, she had -stood shivering, as if herself afraid. He had made excursions into the -interior until he was familiar with every path and road that ever -had been cut. He had sounded the depths of her deepest pools, and had -learned why the trees grew so magnificently. He had found that places -of swamp and swale were few compared with miles of solid timber-land, -concealed by summer's luxuriant undergrowth. - -The sounds that at first had struck cold fear into his soul he now knew -had left on wing and silent foot at the approach of winter. As flock -after flock of the birds returned and he recognized the old echoes -reawakening, he found to his surprise that he had been lonely for -them and was hailing their return with great joy. All his fears were -forgotten. Instead, he was possessed of an overpowering desire to know -what they were, to learn where they had been, and whether they would -make friends with him as the winter birds had done; and if they did, -would they be as fickle? For, with the running sap, creeping worm, and -winging bug, most of Freckles' “chickens” had deserted him, entered the -swamp, and feasted to such a state of plethora on its store that they -cared little for his supply, so that in the strenuous days of mating and -nest-building the boy was deserted. - -He chafed at the birds' ingratitude, but he found speedy consolation in -watching and befriending the newcomers. He surely would have been proud -and highly pleased if he had known that many of the former inhabitants -of the interior swamp now grouped their nests beside the timber-line -solely for the sake of his protection and company. - -The yearly resurrection of the Limberlost is a mighty revival. Freckles -stood back and watched with awe and envy the gradual reclothing and -repopulation of the swamp. Keen-eyed and alert through danger and -loneliness, he noted every stage of development, from the first piping -frog and unsheathing bud, to full leafage and the return of the last -migrant. - -The knowledge of his complete loneliness and utter insignificance was -hourly thrust upon him. He brooded and fretted until he was in a fever; -yet he never guessed the cause. He was filled with a vast impatience, a -longing that he scarcely could endure. - -It was June by the zodiac, June by the Limberlost, and by every delight -of a newly resurrected season it should have been June in the hearts of -all men. Yet Freckles scowled darkly as he came down the trail, and the -running TAP, TAP that tested the sagging wire and telegraphed word -of his coming to his furred and feathered friends of the swamp, this -morning carried the story of his discontent a mile ahead of him. - -Freckles' special pet, a dainty, yellow-coated, black-sleeved, cock -goldfinch, had remained on the wire for several days past the bravest -of all; and Freckles, absorbed with the cunning and beauty of the tiny -fellow, never guessed that he was being duped. For the goldfinch was -skipping, flirting, and swinging for the express purpose of so holding -his attention that he would not look up and see a small cradle of -thistledown and wool perilously near his head. In the beginning of -brooding, the spunky little homesteader had clung heroically to the wire -when he was almost paralyzed with fright. When day after day passed -and brought only softly whistled repetitions of his call, a handful of -crumbs on the top of a locust line-post, and gently worded coaxings, he -grew in confidence. Of late he had sung and swung during the passing of -Freckles, who, not dreaming of the nest and the solemn-eyed little hen -so close above, thought himself unusually gifted in his power to attract -the birds. This morning the goldfinch scarcely could believe his ears, -and clung to the wire until an unusually vicious rap sent him spinning a -foot in air, and his “PTSEET” came with a squall of utter panic. - -The wires were ringing with a story the birds could not translate, and -Freckles was quite as ignorant of the trouble as they. - -A peculiar movement beneath a small walnut tree caught his attention. -He stopped to investigate. There was an unusually large Luna cocoon, and -the moth was bursting the upper end in its struggles to reach light and -air. Freckles stood and stared. - -“There's something in there trying to get out,” he muttered. “Wonder if -I could help it? Guess I best not be trying. If I hadn't happened along, -there wouldn't have been anyone to do anything, and maybe I'd only be -hurting it. It's--it's----Oh, skaggany! It's just being born!” - -Freckles gasped with surprise. The moth cleared the opening, and with -many wabblings and contortions climbed up the tree. He stared speechless -with amazement as the moth crept around a limb and clung to the under -side. There was a big pursy body, almost as large as his thumb, and of -the very snowiest white that Freckles ever had seen. There was a band -of delicate lavender across its forehead, and its feet were of the same -colour; there were antlers, like tiny, straw-colored ferns, on its head, -and from its shoulders hung the crumpled wet wings. As Freckles gazed, -tense with astonishment, he saw that these were expanding, drooping, -taking on color, and small, oval markings were beginning to show. - -The minutes passed. Freckles' steady gaze never wavered. Without -realizing it, he was trembling with eagerness and anxiety. As he saw -what was taking place, “It's going to fly,” he breathed in hushed -wonder. The morning sun fell on the moth and dried its velvet down, -while the warm air made it fluffy. The rapidly growing wings began to -show the most delicate green, with lavender fore-ribs, transparent, -eye-shaped markings, edged with lines of red, tan, and black, and long, -crisp trailers. - -Freckles was whispering to himself for fear of disturbing the moth. It -began a systematic exercise of raising and lowering its exquisite wings -to dry them and to establish circulation. The boy realized that soon it -would be able to spread them and sail away. His long-coming soul sent up -its first shivering cry. - -“I don't know what it is! Oh, I wish I knew! How I wish I knew! It must -be something grand! It can't be a butterfly! It's away too big. Oh, I -wish there was someone to tell me what it is!” - -He climbed on the locust post, and balancing himself with the wire, -held a finger in the line of the moth's advance up the twig. It -unhesitatingly climbed on, so he stepped to the path, holding it to the -light and examining it closely. Then he held it in the shade and turned -it, gloating over its markings and beautiful coloring. When he held the -moth to the limb, it climbed on, still waving those magnificent wings. - -“My, but I'd like to be staying with you!” he said. “But if I was to -stand here all day you couldn't grow any prettier than you are right -now, and I wouldn't grow smart enough to tell what you are. I suppose -there's someone who knows. Of course there is! Mr. McLean said there -were people who knew every leaf, bird, and flower in the Limberlost. Oh -Lord! How I wish You'd be telling me just this one thing!” - -The goldfinch had ventured back to the wire, for there was his mate, -only a few inches above the man-creature's head; and indeed, he simply -must not be allowed to look up, so the brave little fellow rocked on the -wire and piped, as he had done every day for a week: “SEE ME? SEE ME?” - -“See you! Of course I see you,” growled Freckles. “I see you day after -day, and what good is it doing me? I might see you every morning for a -year, and then not be able to be telling anyone about it. 'Seen a bird -with black silk wings--little, and yellow as any canary.' That's as far -as I'd get. What you doing here, anyway? Have you a mate? What's your -name? 'See you?' I reckon I see you; but I might as well be blind, for -any good it's doing me!” - -Freckles impatiently struck the wire. With a screech of fear, the -goldfinch fled precipitately. His mate arose from the nest with a -whirr--Freckles looked up and saw it. - -“O--ho!” he cried. “So THAT'S what you are doing here! You have a -wife. And so close my head I have been mighty near wearing a bird on my -bonnet, and never knew it!” - -Freckles laughed at his own jest, while in better humor he climbed to -examine the neat, tiny cradle and its contents. The hen darted at him in -a frenzy. “Now, where do you come in?” he demanded, when he saw that she -was not similar to the goldfinch. - -“You be clearing out of here! This is none of your fry. This is the nest -of me little, yellow friend of the wire, and you shan't be touching it. -Don't blame you for wanting to see, though. My, but it's a fine nest and -beauties of eggs. Will you be keeping away, or will I fire this stick at -you?” - -Freckles dropped to the trail. The hen darted to the nest and settled on -it with a tender, coddling movement. He of the yellow coat flew to the -edge to make sure that everything was right. It would have been plain to -the veriest novice that they were partners in that cradle. - -“Well, I'll be switched!” muttered Freckles. “If that ain't both their -nest! And he's yellow and she's green, or she's yellow and he's green. -Of course, I don't know, and I haven't any way to find out, but it's -plain as the nose on your face that they are both ready to be fighting -for that nest, so, of course, they belong. Doesn't that beat you? Say, -that's what's been sticking me all of this week on that grass nest in -the thorn tree down the line. One day a blue bird is setting, so I think -it is hers. The next day a brown bird is on, and I chase it off because -the nest is blue's. Next day the brown bird is on again, and I let her -be, because I think it must be hers. Next day, be golly, blue's on, and -off I send her because it's brown's; and now, I bet my hat, it's both -their nest and I've only been bothering them and making a big fool of -mesilf. Pretty specimen I am, pretending to be a friend to the birds, -and so blamed ignorant I don't know which ones go in pairs, and blue and -brown are a pair, of course, if yellow and green are--and there's the -red birds! I never thought of them! He's red and she's gray--and now -I want to be knowing, are they all different? Why no! Of course, they -ain't! There's the jays all blue, and the crows all black.” - -The tide of Freckles' discontent welled until he almost choked with -anger and chagrin. He plodded down the trail, scowling blackly and -viciously spanging the wire. At the finches' nest he left the line -and peered into the thorn tree. There was no bird brooding. He pressed -closer to take a peep at the snowy, spotless little eggs he had found so -beautiful, when at the slight noise up raised four tiny baby heads with -wide-open mouths, uttering hunger cries. Freckles stepped back. The -brown bird alighted on the edge and closed one cavity with a wiggling -green worm, while not two minutes later the blue filled another with -a white. That settled it. The blue and brown were mates. Once again -Freckles repeated his “How I wish I knew!” - -Around the bridge spanning Sleepy Snake Creek the swale spread widely, -the timber was scattering, and willows, rushes, marsh-grass, and -splendid wild flowers grew abundantly. Here lazy, big, black water -snakes, for which the creek was named, sunned on the bushes, wild ducks -and grebe chattered, cranes and herons fished, and muskrats plowed the -bank in queer, rolling furrows. It was always a place full of interest, -so Freckles loved to linger on the bridge, watching the marsh and water -people. He also transacted affairs of importance with the wild flowers -and sweet marsh-grass. He enjoyed splashing through the shallow pools on -either side of the bridge. - -Then, too, where the creek entered the swamp was a place of unusual -beauty. The water spread in darksome, mossy, green pools. Water-plants -and lilies grew luxuriantly, throwing up large, rank, green leaves. -Nowhere else in the Limberlost could be found frog-music to equal -that of the mouth of the creek. The drumming and piping rolled in -never-ending orchestral effect, while the full chorus rang to its -accompaniment throughout the season. - -Freckles slowly followed the path leading from the bridge to the line. -It was the one spot at which he might relax his vigilance. The boldest -timber thief the swamp ever had known would not have attempted to enter -it by the mouth of the creek, on account of the water and because there -was no protection from surrounding trees. He was bending the rank grass -with his cudgel, and thinking of the shade the denser swamp afforded, -when he suddenly dodged sidewise; the cudgel whistled sharply through -the air and Freckles sprang back. - -From the clear sky above him, first level with his face, then skimming, -dipping, tilting, whirling until it struck, quill down, in the path -in front of him, came a glossy, iridescent, big black feather. As it -touched the ground, Freckles snatched it up with almost a continuous -movement facing the sky. There was not a tree of any size in a large -open space. There was no wind to carry it. From the clear sky it had -fallen, and Freckles, gazing eagerly into the arch of June blue with a -few lazy clouds floating high in the sea of ether, had neither mind nor -knowledge to dream of a bird hanging as if frozen there. He turned the -big quill questioningly, and again his awed eyes swept the sky. - -“A feather dropped from Heaven!” he breathed reverently. “Are the holy -angels moulting? But no; if they were, it would be white. Maybe all the -angels are not for being white. What if the angels of God are white and -those of the devil are black? But a black one has no business up there. -Maybe some poor black angel is so tired of being punished it's for -slipping to the gates, beating its wings trying to make the Master -hear!” - -Again and again Freckles searched the sky, but there was no answering -gleam of golden gates, no form of sailing bird; then he went slowly -on his way, turning the feather and wondering about it. It was a wing -quill, eighteen inches in length, with a heavy spine, gray at the base, -shading to jet black at the tip, and it caught the play of the sun's -rays in slanting gleams of green and bronze. Again Freckles' “old man -of the sea” sat sullen and heavy on his shoulders and weighted him down -until his step lagged and his heart ached. - -“Where did it come from? What is it? Oh, how I wish I knew!” he kept -repeating as he turned and studied the feather, with almost unseeing -eyes, so intently was he thinking. - -Before him spread a large, green pool, filled with rotting logs and -leaves, bordered with delicate ferns and grasses among which lifted the -creamy spikes of the arrow-head, the blue of water-hyacinth, and the -delicate yellow of the jewel-flower. As Freckles leaned, handling the -feather and staring at it, then into the depths of the pool, he once -more gave voice to his old query: “I wonder what it is!” - -Straight across from him, couched in the mosses of a soggy old log, a -big green bullfrog, with palpitant throat and batting eyes, lifted his -head and bellowed in answer. “FIN' DOUT! FIN' DOUT!” - -“Wha--what's that?” stammered Freckles, almost too much bewildered to -speak. “I--I know you are only a bullfrog, but, be jabbers, that sounded -mightily like speech. Wouldn't you please to be saying it over?” - -The bullfrog cuddled contentedly in the ooze. Then suddenly he lifted -his voice, and, as an imperative drumbeat, rolled it again: “FIN' DOUT! -FIN' DOUT! FIN DOUT!” - -Freckles had the answer. Something seemed to snap in his brain. There -was a wavering flame before his eyes. Then his mind cleared. His -head lifted in a new poise, his shoulders squared, while his spine -straightened. The agony was over. His soul floated free. Freckles came -into his birthright. - -“Before God, I will!” He uttered the oath so impressively that the -recording angel never winced as he posted it in the prayer column. - -Freckles set his hat over the top of one of the locust posts used -between trees to hold up the wire while he fastened the feather securely -in the band. Then he started down the line, talking to himself as men -who have worked long alone always fall into the habit of doing. - -“What a fool I have been!” he muttered. “Of course that's what I have to -do! There wouldn't likely anybody be doing it for me. Of course I can! -What am I a man for? If I was a four-footed thing of the swamp, maybe I -couldn't; but a man can do anything if he's the grit to work hard enough -and stick at it, Mr. McLean is always saying, and here's the way I am to -do it. He said, too, that there were people that knew everything in the -swamp. Of course they have written books! The thing for me to be doing -is to quit moping and be buying some. Never bought a book in me life, -or anything else of much account, for that matter. Oh, ain't I glad I -didn't waste me money! I'll surely be having enough to get a few. Let me -see.” - -Freckles sat on a log, took his pencil and account-book, and figured -on a back page. He had walked the timber-line ten months. His pay -was thirty dollars a month, and his board cost him eight. That left -twenty-two dollars a month, and his clothing had cost him very little. -At the least he had two hundred dollars in the bank. He drew a deep -breath and smiled at the sky with satisfaction. - -“I'll be having a book about all the birds, trees, flowers, butterflies, -and----Yes, by gummy! I'll be having one about the frogs--if it takes -every cent I have,” he promised himself. - -He put away the account-book, that was his most cherished possession, -caught up his stick, and started down the line. The even tap, tap, and -the cheery, gladsome whistle carried far ahead of him the message that -Freckles was himself again. - -He fell into a rapid pace, for he had lost time that morning; when he -rounded the last curve he was almost running. There was a chance that -the Boss might be there for his weekly report. - -Then, wavering, flickering, darting here and there over the sweet -marsh-grass, came a large black shadow, sweeping so closely before him -that for the second time that morning Freckles dodged and sprang back. -He had seen some owls and hawks of the swamp that he thought might be -classed as large birds, but never anything like this, for six feet it -spread its big, shining wings. Its strong feet could be seen drawn -among its feathers. The sun glinted on its sharp, hooked beak. Its eyes -glowed, caught the light, and seemed able to pierce the ground at his -feet. It cared no more for Freckles than if he had not been there; for -it perched on a low tree, while a second later it awkwardly hopped to -the trunk of a lightning-riven elm, turned its back, and began searching -the blue. - -Freckles looked just in time to see a second shadow sweep the grass; and -another bird, a trifle smaller and not quite so brilliant in the light, -slowly sailed down to perch beside the first. Evidently they were mates, -for with a queer, rolling hop the first-comer shivered his bronze wings, -sidled to the new arrival, and gave her a silly little peck on her -wing. Then he coquettishly drew away and ogled her. He lifted his head, -waddled from her a few steps, awkwardly ambled back, and gave her such -a simple sort of kiss on her beak that Freckles burst into a laugh, but -clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. - -The lover ducked and side-stepped a few feet. He spread his wings -and slowly and softly waved them precisely as if he were fanning his -charmer, which was indeed the result he accomplished. Then a wave of -uncontrollable tenderness moved him so he hobbled to his bombardment -once more. He faced her squarely this time, and turned his head from -side to side with queer little jerks and indiscriminate peckings at her -wings and head, and smirkings that really should have been irresistible. -She yawned and shuffled away indifferently. Freckles reached up, pulled -the quill from his hat, and looking from it to the birds, nodded in -settled conviction. - -“So you're me black angels, ye spalpeens! No wonder you didn't get in! -But I'll back you to come closer it than any other birds ever did. You -fly higher than I can see. Have you picked the Limberlost for a good -thing and come to try it? Well, you can be me chickens if you want to, -but I'm blest if you ain't cool for new ones. Why don't you take this -stick for a gun and go skinning a mile?” - -Freckles broke into an unrestrained laugh, for the bird-lover was keen -about his courting, while evidently his mate was diffident. When he -approached too boisterously, she relieved him of a goodly tuft of -feathers and sent him backward in a series of squirmy little jumps that -gave the boy an idea of what had happened up-sky to send the falling -feather across his pathway. - -“Score one for the lady! I'll be umpiring this,” volunteered Freckles. - -With a ravishing swagger, half-lifted wings, and deep, guttural hissing, -the lover approached again. He suddenly lifted his body, but she coolly -rocked forward on the limb, glided gracefully beneath him, and slowly -sailed into the Limberlost. He recovered himself and gazed after her in -astonishment. - -Freckles hurried down the trail, shaking with laughter. When he neared -the path to the clearing and saw the Boss sitting motionless on the mare -that was the pride of his heart, the boy broke into a run. - -“Oh, Mr. McLean!” he cried. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting very -long! And the sun is getting hot! I have been so slow this morning! I -could have gone faster, only there were that many things to keep me, and -I didn't know you would be here. I'll hurry after this. I've never had -to be giving excuses before. The line wasn't down, and there wasn't a -sign of trouble; it was other things that were making me late.” - -McLean, smiling on the boy, immediately noticed the difference in him. -This flushed, panting, talkative lad was not the same creature who had -sought him in despair and bitterness. He watched in wonder as Freckles -mopped the perspiration from his forehead and began to laugh. Then, -forgetting all his customary reserve with the Boss, the pent-up -boyishness in the lad broke forth. With an eloquence of which he never -dreamed he told his story. He talked with such enthusiasm that McLean -never took his eyes from his face or shifted in the saddle until he -described the strange bird-lover, and then the Boss suddenly bent over -the pommel and laughed with the boy. - -Freckles decorated his story with keen appreciation and rare touches -of Irish wit and drollery that made it most interesting as well as very -funny. It was a first attempt at descriptive narration. With an inborn -gift for striking the vital point, a naturalist's dawning enthusiasm for -the wonders of the Limberlost, and the welling joy of his newly found -happiness, he made McLean see the struggles of the moth and its freshly -painted wings, the dainty, brilliant bird-mates of different colors, the -feather sliding through the clear air, the palpitant throat and batting -eyes of the frog; while his version of the big bird's courtship won for -the Boss the best laugh he had enjoyed for years. - -“They're in the middle of a swamp now” said Freckles. “Do you suppose -there is any chance of them staying with me chickens? If they do, -they'll be about the queerest I have; but I tell you, sir, I am finding -some plum good ones. There's a new kind over at the mouth of the creek -that uses its wings like feet and walks on all fours. It travels like a -thrashing machine. There's another, tall as me waist, with a bill a -foot long, a neck near two, not the thickness of me wrist and an elegant -color. He's some blue and gray, touched up with black, white, and brown. -The voice of him is such that if he'd be going up and standing beside -a tree and crying at it a few times he could be sawing it square off. I -don't know but it would be a good idea to try him on the gang, sir.” - -McLean laughed. “Those must be blue herons, Freckles,” he said. “And -it doesn't seem possible, but your description of the big black birds -sounds like genuine black vultures. They are common enough in the South. -I've seen them numerous around the lumber camps of Georgia, but I -never before heard of any this far north. They must be strays. You have -described perfectly our nearest equivalent to a branch of these birds -called in Europe Pharaoh's Chickens, but if they are coming to the -Limberlost they will have to drop Pharaoh and become Freckles' Chickens, -like the remainder of the birds; won't they? Or are they too odd and -ugly to interest you?” - -“Oh, not at all, at all!” cried Freckles, bursting into pure brogue in -his haste. “I don't know as I'd be calling them exactly pretty, and they -do move like a rocking-horse loping, but they are so big and fearless. -They have a fine color for black birds, and their feet and beaks seem so -strong. You never saw anything so keen as their eyes! And fly? Why, just -think, sir, they must be flying miles straight up, for they were out of -sight completely when the feather fell. I don't suppose I've a chicken -in the swamp that can go as close heaven as those big, black fellows, -and then----” - -Freckles' voice dragged and he hesitated. - -“Then what?” interestedly urged McLean. - -“He was loving her so,” answered Freckles in a hushed voice. “I know it -looked awful funny, and I laughed and told on him, but if I'd taken time -to think I don't believe I'd have done it. You see, I've seen such a -little bit of loving in me life. You easily can be understanding that at -the Home it was every day the old story of neglect and desertion. Always -people that didn't even care enough for their children to keep them, so -you see, sir, I had to like him for trying so hard to make her know how -he loved her. Of course, they're only birds, but if they are caring for -each other like that, why, it's just the same as people, ain't it?” - -Freckles lifted his brave, steady eyes to the Boss. - -“If anybody loved me like that, Mr. McLean, I wouldn't be spending any -time on how they looked or moved. All I'd be thinking of would be how -they felt toward me. If they will stay, I'll be caring as much for them -as any chickens I have. If I did laugh at them I thought he was just -fine!” - -The face of McLean was a study; but the honest eyes of the boy were so -compelling that he found himself answering: “You are right, Freckles. -He's a gentleman, isn't he? And the only real chicken you have. Of -course he'll remain! The Limberlost will be paradise for his family. And -now, Freckles, what has been the trouble all spring? You have done your -work as faithfully as anyone could ask, but I can't help seeing that -there is something wrong. Are you tired of your job?” - -“I love it,” answered Freckles. “It will almost break me heart when -the gang comes and begins tearing up the swamp and scaring away me -chickens.” - -“Then what is the trouble?” insisted McLean. - -“I think, sir, it's been books,” answered Freckles. “You see, I didn't -realize it meself until the bullfrog told me this morning. I hadn't ever -even heard about a place like this. Anyway, I wasn't understanding how -it would be, if I had. Being among these beautiful things every day, I -got so anxious like to be knowing and naming them, that it got to eating -into me and went and made me near sick, when I was well as I could be. -Of course, I learned to read, write, and figure some at school, but -there was nothing there, or in any of the city that I ever got to see, -that would make a fellow even be dreaming of such interesting things -as there are here. I've seen the parks--but good Lord, they ain't even -beginning to be in it with the Limberlost! It's all new and strange to -me. I don't know a thing about any of it. The bullfrog told me to 'find -out,' plain as day, and books are the only way; ain't they?” - -“Of course,” said McLean, astonished at himself for his heartfelt -relief. He had not guessed until that minute what it would have meant -to him to have Freckles give up. “You know enough to study out what you -want yourself, if you have the books; don't you?” - -“I am pretty sure I do,” said Freckles. “I learned all I'd the chance at -in the Home, and me schooling was good as far as it went. Wouldn't let -you go past fourteen, you know. I always did me sums perfect, and loved -me history books. I had them almost by heart. I never could get me -grammar to suit them. They said it was just born in me to go wrong -talking, and if it hadn't been I suppose I would have picked it up from -the other children; but I'd the best voice of any of them in the Home -or at school. I could knock them all out singing. I was always leader in -the Home, and once one of the superintendents gave me carfare and let -me go into the city and sing in a boys' choir. The master said I'd the -swatest voice of them all until it got rough like, and then he made me -quit for awhile, but he said it would be coming back by now, and I'm -railly thinking it is, sir, for I've tried on the line a bit of late and -it seems to go smooth again and lots stronger. That and me chickens have -been all the company I've been having, and it will be all I'll want if I -can have some books and learn the real names of things, where they come -from, and why they do such interesting things. It's been fretting me -more than I knew to be shut up here among all these wonders and not -knowing a thing. I wanted to ask you what some books would cost me, and -if you'd be having the goodness to get me the right ones. I think I have -enough money.” - -Freckles offered his account-book and the Boss studied it gravely. - -“You needn't touch your account, Freckles,” he said. “Ten dollars from -this month's pay will provide you everything you need to start on. I -will write a friend in Grand Rapids today to select you the very best -and send them at once.” - -Freckles' eyes were shining. - -“Never owned a book in me life!” he said. “Even me schoolbooks were -never mine. Lord! How I used to wish I could have just one of them for -me very own! Won't it be fun to see me sawbird and me little yellow -fellow looking at me from the pages of a book, and their real names and -all about them printed alongside? How long will it be taking, sir?” - -“Ten days should do it nicely,” said McLean. Then, seeing Freckles' -lengthening face, he added: “I'll have Duncan bring you a ten-bushel -store-box the next time he goes to town. He can haul it to the west -entrance and set it up wherever you want it. You can put in your spare -time filling it with the specimens you find until the books come, -and then you can study out what you have. I suspect you could collect -specimens that I could send to naturalists in the city and sell for you; -things like that winged creature, this morning. I don't know much in -that line, but it must have been a moth, and it might have been rare. -I've seen them by the thousand in museums, and in all nature I don't -remember rarer coloring than their wings. I'll order you a butterfly-net -and box and show you how scientists pin specimens. Possibly you can make -a fine collection of these swamp beauties. It will be all right for you -to take a pair of different moths and butterflies, but I don't want to -hear of your killing any birds. They are protected by heavy fines.” - -McLean rode away leaving Freckles staring aghast. Then he saw the point -and smiled. Standing on the trail, he twirled the feather and thought -over the morning. - -“Well, if life ain't getting to be worth living!” he said wonderingly. -“Biggest streak of luck I ever had! 'Bout time something was coming my -way, but I wouldn't ever thought anybody could strike such magnificent -prospects through only a falling feather.” - - - -CHAPTER IV - -Wherein Freckles Faces Trouble Bravely and Opens the Way for New -Experiences - -On Duncan's return from his next trip to town there was a big store-box -loaded on the back of his wagon. He drove to the west entrance of the -swamp, set the box on a stump that Freckles had selected in a beautiful, -sheltered place, and made it secure on its foundations with a tree at -its back. - -“It seems most a pity to nail into that tree,” said Duncan. “I haena the -time to examine into the grain of it, but it looks as if it might be a -rare ane. Anyhow, the nailin' winna hurt it deep, and havin' the case by -it will make it safer if it is a guid ane.” - -“Isn't it an oak?” asked Freckles. - -“Ay,” said Duncan. “It looks like it might be ane of thae fine-grained -white anes that mak' such grand furniture.” - -When the body of the case was secure, Duncan made a door from the lid -and fastened it with hinges. He drove a staple, screwed on a latch, and -gave Freckles a small padlock--so that he might fasten in his treasures -safely. He made a shelf at the top for his books, and last of all -covered the case with oil-cloth. - -It was the first time in Freckles' life that anyone ever had done that -much for his pleasure, and it warmed his heart with pure joy. If the -interior of the box already had been covered with the rarest treasures -of the Limberlost he could have been no happier. - -When the big teamster stood back to look at his work he laughingly -quoted, “'Neat, but no' gaudy,' as McLean says. All we're, needing now -is a coat of paint to make a cupboard that would turn Sarah green with -envy. Ye'll find that safe an' dry, lad, an' that's all that's needed.” - -“Mr. Duncan,” said Freckles, “I don't know why you are being so mighty -good to me; but if you have any jobs at the cabin that I could do for -you or Mrs. Duncan, hours off the line, it would make me mighty happy.” - -Duncan laughed. “Ye needna feel ye are obliged to me, lad. Ye mauna -think I could take a half-day off in the best hauling season and go to -town for boxes to rig up, and spend of my little for fixtures.” - -“I knew Mr. McLean sent you,” said Freckles, his eyes wide and bright -with happiness. “It's so good of him. How I wish I could do something -that would please him as much!” - -“Why, Freckles,” said Duncan, as he knelt and began collecting his -tools, “I canna see that it will hurt ye to be told that ye are doing -every day a thing that pleases the Boss as much as anything ye could -do. Ye're being uncommon faithful, lad, and honest as old Father Time. -McLean is trusting ye as he would his own flesh and blood.” - -“Oh, Duncan!” cried the happy boy. “Are you sure?” - -“Why I know,” answered Duncan. “I wadna venture to say so else. In those -first days he cautioned me na to tell ye, but now he wadna care. D'ye -ken, Freckles, that some of the single trees ye are guarding are worth a -thousand dollars?” - -Freckles caught his breath and stood speechless. - -“Ye see,” said Duncan, “that's why they maun be watched so closely. They -tak', say, for instance, a burl maple--bird's eye they call it in the -factory, because it's full o' wee knots and twists that look like the -eye of a bird. They saw it out in sheets no muckle thicker than writin' -paper. Then they make up the funiture out of cheaper wood and cover it -with the maple--veneer, they call it. When it's all done and polished ye -never saw onythin' grander. Gang into a retail shop the next time ye -are in town and see some. By sawin' it thin that way they get finish for -thousands of dollars' worth of furniture from a single tree. If ye dinna -watch faithful, and Black Jack gets out a few he has marked, it means -the loss of more money than ye ever dreamed of, lad. The other night, -down at camp, some son of Balaam was suggestin' that ye might be sellin' -the Boss out to Jack and lettin' him tak' the trees secretly, and nobody -wad ever ken till the gang gets here.” - -A wave of scarlet flooded Freckles' face and he blazed hotly at the -insult. - -“And the Boss,” continued Duncan, coolly ignoring Freckles' anger, “he -lays back just as cool as cowcumbers an' says: 'I'll give a thousand -dollars to ony man that will show me a fresh stump when we reach the -Limberlost,' says he. Some of the men just snapped him op that they'd -find some. So you see bow the Boss is trustin' ye, lad.” - -“I am gladder than I can ever expriss,” said Freckles. “And now will I -be walking double time to keep some of them from cutting a tree to get -all that money!” - -“Mither o' Moses!” howled Duncan. “Ye can trust the Scotch to bungle -things a'thegither. McLean was only meanin' to show ye all confidence -and honor. He's gone and set a high price for some dirty whelp to ruin -ye. I was just tryin' to show ye how he felt toward ye, and I've gone -an' give ye that worry to bear. Damn the Scotch! They're so slow an' so -dumb!” - -“Exciptin' prisint company?” sweetly inquired Freckles. - -“No!” growled Duncan. “Headin' the list! He'd nae business to set a -price on ye, lad, for that's about the amount of it, an' I'd nae right -to tell ye. We've both done ye ill, an' both meanin' the verra best. -Juist what I'm always sayin' to Sarah.” - -“I am mighty proud of what you have been telling me, Duncan,” said -Freckles. “I need the warning, sure. For with the books coming I might -be timpted to neglect me work when double watching is needed. Thank you -more than I can say for putting me on to it. What you've told me may be -the saving of me. I won't stop for dinner now. I'll be getting along the -east line, and when I come around about three, maybe Mother Duncan will -let me have a glass of milk and a bite of something.” - -“Ye see now!” cried Duncan in disgust. “Ye'll start on that seven-mile -tramp with na bite to stay your stomach. What was it I told ye?” - -“You told me that the Scotch had the hardest heads and the softest -hearts of any people that's living,” answered Freckles. - -Duncan grunted in gratified disapproval. - -Freckles picked up his club and started down the line, whistling -cheerily, for he had an unusually long repertoire upon which to draw. - -Duncan went straight to the lower camp, and calling McLean aside, -repeated the conversation verbatim, ending: “And nae matter what happens -now or ever, dinna ye dare let onythin' make ye believe that Freckles -hasna guarded faithful as ony man could.” - -“I don't think anything could shake my faith in the lad,” answered -McLean. - -Freckles was whistling merrily. He kept one eye religiously on the line. -The other he divided between the path, his friends of the wire, and a -search of the sky for his latest arrivals. Every day since their coming -he had seen them, either hanging as small, black clouds above the swamp -or bobbing over logs and trees with their queer, tilting walk. Whenever -he could spare time, he entered the swamp and tried to make friends -with them, for they were the tamest of all his unnumbered subjects. They -ducked, dodged, and ambled around him, over logs and bushes, and not -even a near approach would drive them to flight. - -For two weeks he had found them circling over the Limberlost regularly, -but one morning the female was missing and only the big black chicken -hung sentinel above the swamp. His mate did not reappear in the -following days, and Freckles grew very anxious. He spoke of it to Mrs. -Duncan, and she quieted his fears by raising a delightful hope in their -stead. - -“Why, Freckles, if it's the hen-bird ye are missing, it's ten to one -she's safe,” she said. “She's laid, and is setting, ye silly! Watch him -and mark whaur he lichts. Then follow and find the nest. Some Sabbath -we'll all gang see it.” - -Accepting this theory, Freckles began searching for the nest. Because -these “chickens” were large, as the hawks, he looked among the treetops -until he almost sprained the back of his neck. He had half the crow and -hawk nests in the swamp located. He searched for this nest instead of -collecting subjects for his case. He found the pair the middle of one -forenoon on the elm where he had watched their love-making. The big -black chicken was feeding his mate; so it was proved that they were a -pair, they were both alive, and undoubtedly she was brooding. After that -Freckles' nest-hunting continued with renewed zeal, but as he had no -idea where to look and Duncan could offer no helpful suggestion, the -nest was no nearer to being found. - -Coming from a long day on the trail, Freckles saw Duncan's children -awaiting him much closer the swale than they usually ventured, and from -their wild gestures he knew that something had happened. He began to -run, but the cry that reached him was: “The books have come!” - -How they hurried! Freckles lifted the youngest to his shoulder, the -second took his club and dinner pail, and when they reached Mrs. Duncan -they found her at work on a big box. She had loosened the lid, and then -she laughingly sat on it. - -“Ye canna have a peep in here until ye have washed and eaten supper,” - she said. “It's all ready on the table. Ance ye begin on this, ye'll -no be willin' to tak' your nose o' it till bedtime, and I willna get my -work done the nicht. We've eaten long ago.” - -It was difficult work, but Freckles smiled bravely. He made himself -neat, swallowed a few bites, then came so eagerly that Mrs. Duncan -yielded, although she said she very well knew all the time that his -supper would be spoiled. - -Lifting the lid, they removed the packing and found in that box books -on birds, trees, flowers, moths, and butterflies. There was also one -containing Freckles' bullfrog, true to life. Besides these were a -butterfly-net, a naturalist's tin specimen-box, a bottle of cyanide, -a box of cotton, a paper of long, steel specimen-pins, and a letter -telling what all these things were and how to use them. - -At the discovery of each new treasure, Freckles shouted: “Will you be -looking at this, now?” - -Mrs. Duncan cried: “Weel, I be drawed on!” - -The eldest boy turned a somersault for every extra, while the baby, -trying to follow his example, bunched over in a sidewise sprawl and cut -his foot on the axe with which his mother had prized up the box-lid. -That sobered them, they carried the books indoors. Mrs. Duncan had a top -shelf in her closet cleared for them, far above the reach of meddling -little fingers. - -When Freckles started for the trail next morning, the shining new -specimen-box flashed on his back. The black “chicken,” a mere speck in -the blue, caught the gleam of it. The folded net hung beside the boy's -hatchet, and the bird book was in the box. He walked the line and tested -each section scrupulously, watching every foot of the trail, for he was -determined not to slight his work; but if ever a boy “made haste slowly” - in a hurry, it was Freckles that morning. When at last he reached the -space he had cleared and planted around his case, his heart swelled with -the pride of possessing even so much that he could call his own, while -his quick eyes feasted on the beauty of it. - -He had made a large room with the door of the case set even with one -side of it. On three sides, fine big bushes of wild rose climbed to the -lower branches of the trees. Part of his walls were mallow, part alder, -thorn, willow, and dogwood. Below there filled in a solid mass of pale -pink sheep-laurel, and yellow St. John's wort, while the amber threads -of the dodder interlaced everywhere. At one side the swamp came close, -here cattails grew in profusion. In front of them he had planted a row -of water-hyacinths without disturbing in the least the state of their -azure bloom, and where the ground arose higher for his floor, a row of -foxfire, that soon would be open. - -To the left he had discovered a queer natural arrangement of the trees, -that grew to giant size and were set in a gradually narrowing space so -that a long, open vista stretched away until lost in the dim recesses -of the swamp. A little trimming of underbush, rolling of dead logs, -levelling of floor and carpeting with moss, made it easy to understand -why Freckles had named this the “cathedral”; yet he never had been -taught that “the groves were God's first temples.” - -On either side of the trees that constituted the first arch of this dim -vista of the swamp he planted ferns that grew waist-high thus early in -the season, and so skilfully the work had been done that not a frond -drooped because of the change. Opposite, he cleared a space and made a -flower bed. He filled one end with every delicate, lacy vine and fern he -could transplant successfully. The body of the bed was a riot of color. -Here he set growing dainty blue-eyed-Marys and blue-eyed grass side -by side. He planted harebells; violets, blue, white, and yellow; wild -geranium, cardinal-flower, columbine, pink snake's mouth, buttercups, -painted trilliums, and orchis. Here were blood-root, moccasin-flower, -hepatica, pitcher-plant, Jack-in-the-pulpit, and every other flower of -the Limberlost that was in bloom or bore a bud presaging a flower. Every -day saw the addition of new specimens. The place would have driven a -botanist wild with envy. - -On the line side he left the bushes thick for concealment, entering by a -narrow path he and Duncan had cleared in setting up the case. He called -this the front door, though he used every precaution to hide it. He -built rustic seats between several of the trees, leveled the floor, and -thickly carpeted it with rank, heavy, woolly-dog moss. Around the case -he planted wild clematis, bittersweet, and wild-grapevines, and trained -them over it until it was almost covered. Every day he planted new -flowers, cut back rough bushes, and coaxed out graceful ones. His -pride in his room was very great, but he had no idea how surprisingly -beautiful it would appear to anyone who had not witnessed its growth and -construction. - -This morning Freckles walked straight to his case, unlocked it, and set -his apparatus and dinner inside. He planted a new specimen he had found -close the trail, and, bringing his old scrap-bucket from the corner in -which it was hidden, from a near-by pool he dipped water to pour over -his carpet and flowers. - -Then he took out the bird book, settled comfortably on a bench, and -with a deep sigh of satisfaction turned to the section headed. “V.” Past -“veery” and “vireo” he went, down the line until his finger, trembling -with eagerness, stopped at “vulture.” - -“'Great black California vulture,'” he read. - -“Humph! This side the Rockies will do for us.” - -“'Common turkey-buzzard.'” - -“Well, we ain't hunting common turkeys. McLean said chickens, and what -he says goes.” - -“'Black vulture of the South.'” - -“Here we are arrived at once.” - -Freckles' finger followed the line, and he read scraps aloud. - -“'Common in the South. Sometimes called Jim Crow. Nearest equivalent to -C-a-t-h-a-r-t-e-s A-t-r-a-t-a.'” - -“How the divil am I ever to learn them corkin' big words by mesel'?” - -“'--the Pharaoh's Chickens of European species. Sometimes stray north as -far as Virginia and Kentucky----'” - -“And sometimes farther,” interpolated Freckles, “'cos I got them right -here in Indiana so like these pictures I can just see me big chicken -bobbing up to get his ears boxed. Hey?” - -“'Light-blue eggs'----” - -“Golly! I got to be seeing them!” - -“'--big as a common turkey's, but shaped like a hen's, heavily splotched -with chocolate----'” - -“Caramels, I suppose. And----” - -“'--in hollow logs or stumps.'” - -“Oh, hagginy! Wasn't I barking up the wrong tree, though? Ought to been -looking close the ground all this time. Now it's all to do over, and I -suspect the sooner I start the sooner I'll be likely to find them.” - -Freckles put away his book, dampened the smudge-fire, without which the -mosquitoes made the swamp almost unbearable, took his cudgel and lunch, -and went to the line. He sat on a log, ate at dinner-time and drank his -last drop of water. The heat of June was growing intense. Even on the -west of the swamp, where one had full benefit of the breeze from the -upland, it was beginning to be unpleasant in the middle of the day. - -He brushed the crumbs from his knees and sat resting awhile and watching -the sky to see if his big chicken were hanging up there. But he came to -the earth abruptly, for there were steps coming down the trail that -were neither McLean's nor Duncan's--and there never had been others. -Freckles' heart leaped hotly. He ran a quick hand over his belt to feel -if his revolver and hatchet were there, caught up his cudgel and laid -it across his knees--then sat quietly, waiting. Was it Black Jack, -or someone even worse? Forced to do something to brace his nerves, he -puckered his stiffening lips and began whistling a tune he had led in -his clear tenor every year of his life at the Home Christmas exercises. - - “Who comes this way, so blithe and gay, - Upon a merry Christmas day?” - -His quick Irish wit roused to the ridiculousness of it until he broke -into a laugh that steadied him amazingly. - -Through the bushes he caught a glimpse of the oncoming figure. His heart -flooded with joy, for it was a man from the gang. Wessner had been his -bunk-mate the night he came down the corduroy. He knew him as well as -any of McLean's men. This was no timber-thief. No doubt the Boss had -sent him with a message. Freckles sprang up and called cheerily, a warm -welcome on his face. - -“Well, it's good telling if you're glad to see me,” said Wessner, with -something very like a breath of relief. “We been hearing down at the -camp you were so mighty touchy you didn't allow a man within a rod of -the line.” - -“No more do I,” answered Freckles, “if he's a stranger, but you're from -McLean, ain't you?” - -“Oh, damn McLean!” said Wessner. - -Freckles gripped the cudgel until his knuckles slowly turned purple. - -“And are you railly saying so?” he inquired with elaborate politeness. - -“Yes, I am,” said Wessner. “So would every man of the gang if they -wasn't too big cowards to say anything, unless maybe that other -slobbering old Scotchman, Duncan. Grinding the lives out of us! Working -us like dogs, and paying us starvation wages, while he rolls up his -millions and lives like a prince!” - -Green lights began to play through the gray of Freckles' eyes. - -“Wessner,” he said impressively, “you'd make a fine pattern for the -father of liars! Every man on that gang is strong and hilthy, paid all -he earns, and treated with the courtesy of a gentleman! As for the Boss -living like a prince, he shares fare with you every day of your lives!” - -Wessner was not a born diplomat, but he saw he was on the wrong tack, so -he tried another. - -“How would you like to make a good big pile of money, without even -lifting your hand?” he asked. - -“Humph!” said Freckles. “Have you been up to Chicago and cornered wheat, -and are you offering me a friendly tip on the invistment of me fortune?” - -Wessner came close. - -“Freckles, old fellow,” he said, “if you let me give you a pointer, I -can put you on to making a cool five hundred without stepping out of -your tracks.” - -Freckles drew back. - -“You needn't be afraid of speaking up,” he said. “There isn't a soul in -the Limberlost save the birds and the beasts, unless some of your sort's -come along and's crowding the privileges of the legal tinints.” - -“None of my friends along,” said Wessner. “Nobody knew I came but Black, -I--I mean a friend of mine. If you want to hear sense and act with -reason, he can see you later, but it ain't necessary. We can make all -the plans needed. The trick's so dead small and easy.” - -“Must be if you have the engineering of it,” said Freckles. But he -heard, with a sigh of relief, that they were alone. - -Wessner was impervious. “You just bet it is! Why, only think, Freckles, -slavin' away at a measly little thirty dollars a month, and here is a -chance to clear five hundred in a day! You surely won't be the fool to -miss it!” - -“And how was you proposing for me to stale it?” inquired Freckles. “Or -am I just to find it laying in me path beside the line?” - -“That's it, Freckles,” blustered the Dutchman, “you're just to find it. -You needn't do a thing. You needn't know a thing. You name a morning -when you will walk up the west side of the swamp and then turn round -and walk back down the same side again and the money is yours. Couldn't -anything be easier than that, could it?” - -“Depinds entirely on the man,” said Freckles. The lilt of a lark hanging -above the swale beside them was not sweeter than the sweetness of his -voice. “To some it would seem to come aisy as breathing; and to some, -wringin' the last drop of their heart's blood couldn't force thim! I'm -not the man that goes into a scheme like that with the blindfold over -me eyes, for, you see, it manes to break trust with the Boss; and I've -served him faithful as I knew. You'll have to be making the thing very -clear to me understanding.” - -“It's so dead easy,” repeated Wessner, “it makes me tired of the -simpleness of it. You see there's a few trees in the swamp that's real -gold mines. There's three especial. Two are back in, but one's square on -the line. Why, your pottering old Scotch fool of a Boss nailed the -wire to it with his own hands! He never noticed where the bark had been -peeled, or saw what it was. If you will stay on this side of the trail -just one day we can have it cut, loaded, and ready to drive out at -night. Next morning you can find it, report, and be the busiest man -in the search for us. We know where to fix it all safe and easy. Then -McLean has a bet up with a couple of the gang that there can't be a raw -stump found in the Limberlost. There's plenty of witnesses to swear to -it, and I know three that will. There's a cool thousand, and this tree -is worth all of that, raw. Say, it's a gold mine, I tell you, and just -five hundred of it is yours. There's no danger on earth to you, for -you've got McLean that bamboozled you could sell out the whole swamp and -he'd never mistrust you. What do you say?” - -Freckles' soul was satisfied. “Is that all?” he asked. - -“No, it ain't,” said Wessner. “If you really want to brace up and be a -man and go into the thing for keeps, you can make five times that in a -week. My friend knows a dozen others we could get out in a few days, and -all you'd have to do would be to keep out of sight. Then you could -take your money and skip some night, and begin life like a gentleman -somewhere else. What do you think about it?” - -Freckles purred like a kitten. - -“'Twould be a rare joke on the Boss,” he said, “to be stalin' from him -the very thing he's trusted me to guard, and be getting me wages all -winter throwed in free. And you're making the pay awful high. Me to -be getting five hundred for such a simple little thing as that. You're -trating me most royal indade! It's away beyond all I'd be expecting. -Sivinteen cints would be a big price for that job. It must be looked -into thorough. Just you wait here until I do a minute's turn in the -swamp, and then I'll be eschorting you out of the clearing and giving -you the answer.” - -Freckles lifted the overhanging bushes and hurried to the case. He -unslung the specimen-box and laid it inside with his hatchet and -revolver. He slipped the key in his pocket and went back to Wessner. - -“Now for the answer,” he said. “Stand up!” - -There was iron in his voice, and he was commanding as an outraged -general. “Anything, you want to be taking off?” he questioned. - -Wessner looked the astonishment he felt. “Why, no, Freckles,” he said. - -“Have the goodness to be calling me Mister McLean,” snapped Freckles. -“I'm after resarvin' me pet name for the use of me friends! You may -stand with your back to the light or be taking any advantage you want.” - -“Why, what do you mean?” spluttered Wessner. - -“I'm manin',” said Freckles tersely, “to lick a quarter-section of hell -out of you, and may the Holy Vargin stay me before I leave you here -carrion, for your carcass would turn the stummicks of me chickens!” - -At the camp that morning, Wessner's conduct had been so palpable an -excuse to force a discharge that Duncan moved near McLean and whispered, -“Think of the boy, sir?” - -McLean was so troubled that, an hour later, he mounted Nellie and -followed Wessner to his home in Wildcat Hollow, only to find that he had -left there shortly before, heading for the Limberlost. McLean rode at -top speed. When Mrs. Duncan told him that a man answering Wessner's -description had gone down the west side of the swamp close noon, he left -the mare in her charge and followed on foot. When he heard voices he -entered the swamp and silently crept close just in time to hear Wessner -whine: “But I can't fight you, Freckles. I hain't done nothing to you. -I'm away bigger than you, and you've only one hand.” - -The Boss slid off his coat and crouched among the bushes, ready to -spring; but as Freckles' voice reached him he held himself, with a -strong effort, to learn what mettle was in the boy. - -“Don't you be wasting of me good time in the numbering of me hands,” - cried Freckles. “The stringth of me cause will make up for the weakness -of me mimbers, and the size of a cowardly thief doesn't count. You'll -think all the wildcats of the Limberlost are turned loose on you whin I -come against you, and as for me cause----I slept with you, Wessner, the -night I came down the corduroy like a dirty, friendless tramp, and the -Boss was for taking me up, washing, clothing, and feeding me, and giving -me a home full of love and tinderness, and a master to look to, and -good, well-earned money in the bank. He's trusting me his heartful, and -here comes you, you spotted toad of the big road, and insults me, as is -an honest Irish gintleman, by hinting that you concaive I'd be willing -to shut me eyes and hold fast while you rob him of the thing I was set -and paid to guard, and then act the sneak and liar to him, and ruin and -eternally blacken the soul of me. You damned rascal,” raved Freckles, -“be fighting before I forget the laws of a gintlemin's game and split -your dirty head with me stick!” - -Wessner backed away, mumbling, “But I don't want to hurt you, Freckles!” - -“Oh, don't you!” raged the boy, now fairly frothing. “Well, you ain't -resembling me none, for I'm itching like death to git me fingers in the -face of you.” - -He danced up, and as Wessner lunged in self-defense, ducked under his -arm as a bantam and punched him in the pit of the stomach so that he -doubled with a groan. Before Wessner could straighten himself, Freckles -was on him, fighting like the wildest fury that ever left the beautiful -island. The Dutchman dealt thundering blows that sometimes landed and -sent Freckles reeling, and sometimes missed, while he went plunging into -the swale with the impetus of them. Freckles could not strike with half -Wessner's force, but he could land three blows to the Dutchman's one. -It was here that the boy's days of alert watching on the line, the -perpetual swinging of the heavy cudgel, and the endurance of all weather -stood him in good stead; for he was tough, and agile. He skipped, -ducked, and dodged. For the first five minutes he endured fearful -punishment. Then Wessner's breath commenced to whistle between his -teeth, when Freckles only had begun fighting. He sprang back with shrill -laughter. - -“Begolly! and will your honor be whistling the hornpipe for me to be -dancing of?” he cried. - -SPANG! went his fist into Wessner's face, and he was past him into the -swale. - -“And would you be pleased to tune up a little livelier?” he gasped, and -clipped his ear as he sprang back. Wessner lunged at him in blind fury. -Freckles, seeing an opening, forgot the laws of a gentleman's game and -drove the toe of his heavy wading-boot in Wessner's middle until he -doubled and fell heavily. In a flash Freckles was on him. For a time -McLean could not see what was happening. “Go! Go to him now!” he -commanded himself, but so intense was his desire to see the boy win -alone that he did not stir. - -At last Freckles sprang up and backed away. “Time!” he yelled as a fury. -“Be getting up, Mr. Wessner, and don't be afraid of hurting me. I'll let -you throw in an extra hand and lick you to me complate satisfaction all -the same. Did you hear me call the limit? Will you get up and be facing -me?” - -As Wessner struggled to his feet, he resembled a battlefield, for his -clothing was in ribbons and his face and hands streaming blood. - -“I--I guess I got enough,” he mumbled. - -“Oh, you do?” roared Freckles. “Well this ain't your say. You come on -to me ground, lying about me Boss and intimatin' I'd stale from his very -pockets. Now will you be standing up and taking your medicine like a -man, or getting it poured down the throat of you like a baby? I ain't -got enough! This is only just the beginning with me. Be looking out -there!” - -He sprang against Wessner and sent him rolling. He attacked the -unresisting figure and fought him until he lay limp and quiet and -Freckles had no strength left to lift an arm. Then he arose and stepped -back, gasping for breath. With his first lungful of air he shouted: -“Time!” But the figure of Wessner lay motionless. - -Freckles watched him with regardful eye and saw at last that he was -completely exhausted. He bent over him, and catching him by the back of -the neck, jerked him to his knees. Wessner lifted the face of a whipped -cur, and fearing further punishment, burst into shivering sobs, while -the tears washed tiny rivulets through the blood and muck. Freckles -stepped back, glaring at Wessner, but suddenly the scowl of anger and -the ugly disfiguring red faded from the boy's face. He dabbed at a cut -on his temple from which issued a tiny crimson stream, and jauntily -shook back his hair. His face took on the innocent look of a cherub, -and his voice rivaled that of a brooding dove, but into his eyes crept a -look of diabolical mischief. - -He glanced vaguely around him until he saw his club, seized and twirled -it as a drum major, stuck it upright in the muck, and marched on tiptoe -to Wessner, mechanically, as a puppet worked by a string. Bending over, -Freckles reached an arm around Wessner's waist and helped him to his -feet. - -“Careful, now” he cautioned, “be careful, Freddy; there's danger of you -hurting me.” - -Drawing a handkerchief from a back pocket, Freckles tenderly wiped -Wessner's eyes and nose. - -“Come, Freddy, me child,” he admonished Wessner, “it's time little boys -were going home. I've me work to do, and can't be entertaining you any -more today. Come back tomorrow, if you ain't through yet, and we'll -repate the perfarmance. Don't be staring at me so wild like! I would eat -you, but I can't afford it. Me earnings, being honest, come slow, and -I've no money to be squanderin' on the pailful of Dyspeptic's Delight it -would be to taking to work you out of my innards!” - -Again an awful wrenching seized McLean. Freckles stepped back as -Wessner, tottering and reeling, as a thoroughly drunken man, came toward -the path, appearing indeed as if wildcats had attacked him. - -The cudgel spun high in air, and catching it with an expertness acquired -by long practice on the line, the boy twirled it a second, shook back -his thick hair bonnily, and stepping into the trail, followed Wessner. -Because Freckles was Irish, it was impossible to do it silently, so -presently his clear tenor rang out, though there were bad catches where -he was hard pressed for breath: - - “It was the Dutch. It was the Dutch. - Do you think it was the Irish hollered help? - Not much! - It was the Dutch. It was the Dutch----” - -Wessner turned and mumbled: “What you following me for? What are you -going to do with me?” - -Freckles called the Limberlost to witness: “How's that for the -ingratitude of a beast? And me troubling mesilf to show him off me -territory with the honors of war!” - -Then he changed his tone completely and added: “Belike it's this, -Freddy. You see, the Boss might come riding down this trail any minute, -and the little mare's so wheedlesome that if she'd come on to you in -your prisint state all of a sudden, she'd stop that short she'd send Mr. -McLean out over the ears of her. No disparagement intinded to the sinse -of the mare!” he added hastily. - -Wessner belched a fearful oath, while Freckles laughed merrily. - -“That's a sample of the thanks a generous act's always for getting,” he -continued. “Here's me neglictin' me work to eschort you out proper, and -you saying such awful words Freddy,” he demanded sternly, “do you want -me to soap out your mouth? You don't seem to be realizing it, but if you -was to buck into Mr. McLean in your prisint state, without me there -to explain matters the chance is he'd cut the liver out of you; and I -shouldn't think you'd be wanting such a fine gintleman as him to see -that it's white!” - -Wessner grew ghastly under his grime and broke into a staggering run. - -“And now will you be looking at the manners of him?” questioned Freckles -plaintively. “Going without even a 'thank you,' right in the face of all -the pains I've taken to make it interesting for him!” - -Freckles twirled the club and stood as a soldier at attention -until Wessner left the clearing, but it was the last scene of that -performance. When the boy turned, there was deathly illness on his face, -while his legs wavered beneath his weight. He staggered to the case, and -opening it he took out a piece of cloth. He dipped it into the water, -and sitting on a bench, he wiped the blood and grime from his face, -while his breath sucked between his clenched teeth. He was shivering -with pain and excitement in spite of himself. He unbuttoned the band of -his right sleeve, and turning it back, exposed the blue-lined, calloused -whiteness of his maimed arm, now vividly streaked with contusions, while -in a series of circular dots the blood oozed slowly. Here Wessner had -succeeded in setting his teeth. When Freckles saw what it was he forgave -himself the kick in the pit of Wessner's stomach, and cursed fervently -and deep. - -“Freckles, Freckles,” said McLean's voice. - -Freckles snatched down his sleeve and arose to his feet. - -“Excuse me, sir,” he said. “You'll surely be belavin' I thought meself -alone.” - -McLean pushed him carefully to the seat, and bending over him, opened a -pocket-case that he carried as regularly as his revolver and watch, for -cuts and bruises were of daily occurrence among the gang. - -Taking the hurt arm, he turned back the sleeve and bathed and bound the -wounds. He examined Freckles' head and body and convinced himself that -there was no permanent injury, although the cruelty of the punishment -the boy had borne set the Boss shuddering. Then he closed the -case, shoved it into his pocket, and sat beside Freckles. All the -indescribable beauty of the place was strong around him, but he saw -only the bruised face of the suffering boy, who had hedged for the -information he wanted as a diplomat, argued as a judge, fought as a -sheik, and triumphed as a devil. - -When the pain lessened and breath relieved Freckles' pounding heart, he -watched the Boss covertly. How had McLean gotten there and how long had -he been there? Freckles did not dare ask. At last he arose, and going -to the case, took out his revolver and the wire-mending apparatus and -locked the door. Then he turned to McLean. - -“Have you any orders, sir?” he asked. - -“Yes,” said McLean, “I have, and you are to follow them to the letter. -Turn over that apparatus to me and go straight home. Soak yourself in -the hottest bath your skin will bear and go to bed at once. Now hurry.” - -“Mr. McLean,” said Freckles, “it's sorry I am to be telling you, but -the afternoon's walking of the line ain't done. You see, I was just -for getting to me feet to start, and I was on time, when up came -a gintleman, and we got into a little heated argument. It's either -settled, or it's just begun, but between us, I'm that late I haven't -started for the afternoon yet. I must be going at once, for there's a -tree I must find before the day's over.” - -“You plucky little idiot,” growled McLean. “You can't walk the line! I -doubt if you can reach Duncan's. Don't you know when you are done up? -You go to bed; I'll finish your work.” - -“Niver!” protested Freckles. “I was just a little done up for the -prisint, a minute ago. I'm all right now. Riding-boots are far too low. -The day's hot and the walk a good seven miles, sir. Niver!” - -As he reached for the outfit he pitched forward and his eyes closed. -McLean stretched him on the moss and applied restoratives. When Freckles -returned to consciousness, McLean ran to the cabin to tell Mrs. Duncan -to have a hot bath ready, and to bring Nellie. That worthy woman -promptly filled the wash-boiler, starting a roaring fire under it. She -pushed the horse-trough from its base and rolled it to the kitchen. - -By the time McLean came again, leading Nelie and holding Freckles on her -back, Mrs. Duncan was ready for business. She and the Boss laid Freckles -in the trough and poured on hot water until he squirmed. They soaked and -massaged him. Then they drew off the hot water and closed his pores with -cold. Lastly they stretched him on the floor and chafed, rubbed, and -kneaded him until he cried out for mercy. As they rolled him into bed, -his eyes dropped shut, but a little later they flared open. - -“Mr. McLean,” he cried, “the tree! Oh, do be looking after the tree!” - -McLean bent over him. “Which tree, Freckles?” - -“I don't know exact sir; but it's on the east line, and the wire is -fastened to it. He bragged that you nailed it yourself, sir. You'll know -it by the bark having been laid open to the grain somewhere low down. -Five hundred dollars he offered me--to be--selling you out--sir!” - -Freckles' head rolled over and his eyes dropped shut. McLean towered -above the lad. His bright hair waved on the pillow. His face was -swollen, and purple with bruises. His left arm, with the hand battered -almost out of shape, stretched beside him, and the right, with no hand -at all, lay across a chest that was a mass of purple welts. McLean's -mind traveled to the night, almost a year before, when he had engaged -Freckles, a stranger. - -The Boss bent, covering the hurt arm with one hand and laying the other -with a caress on the boy's forehead. Freckles stirred at his touch, and -whispered as softly as the swallows under the eaves: “If you're coming -this way--tomorrow--be pleased to step over--and we'll repate--the -chorus softly!” - -“Bless the gritty devil,” muttered McLean. - -Then he went out and told Mrs. Duncan to keep close watch on Freckles, -also to send Duncan to him at the swamp the minute he came home. -Following the trail to the line and back to the scent of the fight, the -Boss entered Freckles' study quietly, as if his spirit, keeping there, -might be roused, and gazed around with astonished eyes. - -How had the boy conceived it? What a picture he had wrought in living -colors! He had the heart of a painter. He had the soul of a poet. The -Boss stepped carefully over the velvet carpet to touch the walls of -crisp verdure with gentle fingers. He stood long beside the flower -bed, and gazed at the banked wall of bright bloom as if he doubted its -reality. - -Where had Freckles ever found, and how had he transplanted such ferns? -As McLean turned from them he stopped suddenly. - -He had reached the door of the cathedral. That which Freckles had -attempted would have been patent to anyone. What had been in the heart -of the shy, silent boy when he had found that long, dim stretch of -forest, decorated its entrance, cleared and smoothed its aisle, and -carpeted its altar? What veriest work of God was in these mighty living -pillars and the arched dome of green! How similar to stained cathedral -windows were the long openings between the trees, filled with rifts of -blue, rays of gold, and the shifting emerald of leaves! Where could be -found mosaics to match this aisle paved with living color and glowing -light? Was Freckles a devout Christian, and did he worship here? Or was -he an untaught heathen, and down this vista of entrancing loveliness did -Pan come piping, and dryads, nymphs, and fairies dance for him? - -Who can fathom the heart of a boy? McLean had been thinking of Freckles -as a creature of unswerving honesty, courage, and faithfulness. Here was -evidence of a heart aching for beauty, art, companionship, worship. It -was writ large all over the floor, walls, and furnishing of that little -Limberlost clearing. - -When Duncan came, McLean told him the story of the fight, and they -laughed until they cried. Then they started around the line in search of -the tree. - -Said Duncan: “Now the boy is in for sore trouble!” - -“I hope not,” answered McLean. “You never in all your life saw a cur -whipped so completely. He won't come back for the repetition of the -chorus. We surely can find the tree. If we can't, Freckles can. I will -bring enough of the gang to take it out at once. That will insure peace -for a time, at least, and I am hoping that in a month more the whole -gang may be moved here. It soon will be fall, and then, if he will go, I -intend to send Freckles to my mother to be educated. With his quickness -of mind and body and a few years' good help he can do anything. Why, -Duncan, I'd give a hundred-dollar bill if you could have been here and -seen for yourself.” - -“Yes, and I'd 'a' done murder,” muttered the big teamster. “I hope, sir, -ye will make good your plans for Freckles, though I'd as soon see -ony born child o' my ain taken from our home. We love the lad, me and -Sarah.” - -Locating the tree was easy, because it was so well identified. When -the rumble of the big lumber wagons passing the cabin on the way to the -swamp wakened Freckles next morning, he sprang up and was soon following -them. He was so sore and stiff that every movement was torture at first, -but he grew easier, and shortly did not suffer so much. McLean scolded -him for coming, yet in his heart triumphed over every new evidence of -fineness in the boy. - -The tree was a giant maple, and so precious that they almost dug it out -by the roots. When it was down, cut in lengths, and loaded, there was -yet an empty wagon. As they were gathering up their tools to go, Duncan -said: “There's a big hollow tree somewhere mighty close here that I've -been wanting for a watering-trough for my stock; the one I have is so -small. The Portland company cut this for elm butts last year, and it's -six feet diameter and hollow for forty feet. It was a buster! While the -men are here and there is an empty wagon, why mightn't I load it on and -tak' it up to the barn as we pass?” - -McLean said he was very willing, ordered the driver to break line and -load the log, detailing men to assist. He told Freckles to ride on a -section of the maple with him, but now the boy asked to enter the swamp -with Duncan. - -“I don't see why you want to go,” said McLean. “I have no business to -let you out today at all.” - -“It's me chickens,” whispered Freckles in distress. “You see, I was just -after finding yesterday, from me new book, how they do be nesting in -hollow trees, and there ain't any too many in the swamp. There's just a -chance that they might be in that one.” - -“Go ahead,” said McLean. “That's a different story. If they happen to be -there, why tell Duncan he must give up the tree until they have finished -with it.” - -Then he climbed on a wagon and was driven away. Freckles hurried into -the swamp. He was a little behind, yet he could see the men. Before he -overtook them, they had turned from the west road and had entered the -swamp toward the east. - -They stopped at the trunk of a monstrous prostrate log. It had been cut -three feet from the ground, over three-fourths of the way through, and -had fallen toward the east, the body of the log still resting on the -stump. The underbrush was almost impenetrable, but Duncan plunged in and -with a crowbar began tapping along the trunk to decide how far it -was hollow, so that they would know where to cut. As they waited his -decision, there came from the mouth of it--on wings--a large black bird -that swept over their heads. - -Freckles danced wildly. “It's me chickens! Oh, it's me chickens!” he -shouted. “Oh, Duncan, come quick! You've found the nest of me precious -chickens!” - -Duncan hurried to the mouth of the log, but Freckles was before him. He -crashed through poison-vines and underbrush regardless of any danger, -and climbed on the stump. When Duncan came he was shouting like a wild -man. - -“It's hatched!” he yelled. “Oh, me big chicken has hatched out me little -chicken, and there's another egg. I can see it plain, and oh, the funny -little white baby! Oh, Duncan, can you see me little white chicken?” - -Duncan could easily see it; so could everyone else. Freckles crept into -the log and tenderly carried the hissing, blinking little bird to the -light in a leaf-lined hat. The men found it sufficiently wonderful to -satisfy even Freckles, who had forgotten he was ever sore or stiff, and -coddled over it with every blarneying term of endearment he knew. - -Duncan gathered his tools. “Deal's off, boys!” he said cheerfully. “This -log mauna be touched until Freckles' chaukies have finished with it. We -might as weel gang. Better put it back, Freckles. It's just out, and it -may chill. Ye will probably hae twa the morn.” - -Freckles crept into the log and carefully deposited the baby beside -the egg. When he came back, he said: “I made a big mistake not to be -bringing the egg out with the baby, but I was fearing to touch it. -It's shaped like a hen's egg, and it's big as a turkey's, and the -beautifulest blue--just splattered with big brown splotches, like me -book said, precise. Bet you never saw such a sight as it made on the -yellow of the rotten wood beside that funny leathery-faced little white -baby.” - -“Tell you what, Freckles,” said one of the teamsters. “Have you ever -heard of this Bird Woman who goes all over the country with a camera and -makes pictures? She made some on my brother Jim's place last summer, and -Jim's so wild about them he quits plowing and goes after her about every -nest he finds. He helps her all he can to take them, and then she gives -him a picture. Jim's so proud of what he has he keeps them in the Bible. -He shows them to everybody that comes, and brags about how he helped. -If you're smart, you'll send for her and she'll come and make a picture -just like life. If you help her, she will give you one. It would be -uncommon pretty to keep, after your birds are gone. I dunno what they -are. I never see their like before. They must be something rare. Any you -fellows ever see a bird like that hereabouts?” - -No one ever had. - -“Well,” said the teamster, “failing to get this log lets me off till -noon, and I'm going to town. I go right past her place. I've a big -notion to stop and tell her. If she drives straight back in the swamp -on the west road, and turns east at this big sycamore, she can't miss -finding the tree, even if Freckles ain't here to show her. Jim says -her work is a credit to the State she lives in, and any man is a measly -creature who isn't willing to help her all he can. My old daddy used to -say that all there was to religion was doing to the other fellow what -you'd want him to do to you, and if I was making a living taking bird -pictures, seems to me I'd be mighty glad for a chance to take one like -that. So I'll just stop and tell her, and by gummy! maybe she will give -me a picture of the little white sucker for my trouble.” - -Freckles touched his arm. - -“Will she be rough with it?” he asked. - -“Government land! No!” said the teamster. “She's dead down on anybody -that shoots a bird or tears up a nest. Why, she's half killing herself -in all kinds of places and weather to teach people to love and protect -the birds. She's that plum careful of them that Jim's wife says she has -Jim a standin' like a big fool holding an ombrelly over them when they -are young and tender until she gets a focus, whatever that is. Jim says -there ain't a bird on his place that don't actually seem to like having -her around after she has wheedled them a few days, and the pictures she -takes nobody would ever believe who didn't stand by and see.” - -“Will you he sure to tell her to come?” asked Freckles. - -Duncan slept at home that night. He heard Freckles slipping out early -the next morning, but he was too sleepy to wonder why, until he came to -do his morning chores. When he found that none of his stock was at all -thirsty, and saw the water-trough brimming, he knew that the boy was -trying to make up to him for the loss of the big trough that he had been -so anxious to have. - -“Bless his fool little hot heart!” said Duncan. “And him so sore it is -tearing him to move for anything. Nae wonder he has us all loving him!” - -Freckles was moving briskly, and his heart was so happy that he forgot -all about the bruises. He hurried around the trail, and on his way down -the east side he went to see the chickens. The mother bird was on the -nest. He was afraid the other egg might be hatching, so he did not -venture to disturb her. He made the round and reached his study early. -He ate his lunch, but did not need to start on the second trip until the -middle of the afternoon. He would have long hours to work on his flower -bed, improve his study, and learn about his chickens. Lovingly he set -his room in order and watered the flowers and carpet. He had chosen for -his resting-place the coolest spot on the west side, where there was -almost always a breeze; but today the heat was so intense that it -penetrated even there. - -“I'm mighty glad there's nothing calling me inside!” he said. “There's -no bit of air stirring, and it will just be steaming. Oh, but it's -luck Duncan found the nest before it got so unbearing hot! I might have -missed it altogether. Wouldn't it have been a shame to lose that sight? -The cunning little divil! When he gets to toddling down that log to meet -me, won't he be a circus? Wonder if he'll be as graceful a performer -afoot as his father and mother?” - -The heat became more insistent. Noon came; Freckles ate his dinner and -settled for an hour or two on a bench with a book. - - - -CHAPTER V - -Wherein an Angel Materializes and a Man Worships - -Perhaps there was a breath of sound--Freckles never afterward could -remember--but for some reason he lifted his head as the bushes parted -and the face of an angel looked between. Saints, nymphs, and fairies -had floated down his cathedral aisle for him many times, with forms and -voices of exquisite beauty. - -Parting the wild roses at the entrance was beauty of which Freckles -never had dreamed. Was it real or would it vanish as the other dreams? -He dropped his book, and rising to his feet, went a step closer, gazing -intently. This was real flesh and blood. It was in every way kin to the -Limberlost, for no bird of its branches swung with easier grace than -this dainty young thing rocked on the bit of morass on which she stood. -A sapling beside her was not straighter or rounder than her slender -form. Her soft, waving hair clung around her face from the heat, and -curled over her shoulders. It was all of one piece with the gold of the -sun that filtered between the branches. Her eyes were the deepest blue -of the iris, her lips the reddest red of the foxfire, while her cheeks -were exactly of the same satin as the wild rose petals caressing them. -She was smiling at Freckles in perfect confidence, and she cried: - -“Oh, I'm so delighted that I've found you!” - -The wildly leaping heart of Freckles burst from his body and fell in the -black swamp-muck at her feet with such a thud that he did not understand -how she could avoid hearing. He really felt that if she looked down she -would see. - -Incredulous, he quavered: “An'--an' was you looking for me?” - -“I hoped I might find you,” said the Angel. “You see, I didn't do as -I was told, and I'm lost. The Bird Woman said I should wait in the -carriage until she came back. She's been gone hours. It's a perfect -Turkish bath in there, and I'm all lumpy with mosquito bites. Just when -I thought that I couldn't bear it another minute, along came the biggest -Papilio Ajax you ever saw. I knew how pleased she'd be, so I ran after -it. It flew so slow and so low that I thought a dozen times I had it. -Then all at once it went from sight above the trees, and I couldn't find -my way back to save me. I think I've walked more than an hour. I have -been mired to my knees. A thorn raked my arm until it is bleeding, and -I'm so tired and warm.” - -She parted the bushes farther. Freckles saw that her blue cotton frock -clung to her, limp with perspiration. It was torn across the breast. One -sleeve hung open from shoulder to elbow. A thorn had torn her arm until -it was covered with blood, and the gnats and mosquitoes were clustering -around it. Her feet were in lace hose and low shoes. Freckles gasped. In -the Limberlost in low shoes! He caught an armful of moss from his carpet -and buried it in the ooze in front of her for a footing. - -“Come out here so I can see where you are stepping. Quick, for the life -of you!” he ordered. - -She smiled on him indulgently. - -“Why?” she inquired. - -“Did anybody let you come here and not be telling you of the snakes?” - urged Freckles. - -“We met Mr. McLean on the corduroy, and he did say something about -snakes, I believe. The Bird Woman put on leather leggings, and a nice, -parboiled time she must be having! Worst dose I ever endured, and I'd -nothing to do but swelter.” - -“Will you be coming out of there?” groaned Freckles. - -She laughed as if it were a fine joke. - -“Maybe if I'd be telling you I killed a rattler curled upon that same -place you're standing, as long as me body and the thickness of me arm, -you'd be moving where I can see your footing,” he urged insistently. - -“What a perfectly delightful little brogue you speak,” she said. “My -father is Irish, and half should be enough to entitle me to that much. -'Maybe--if I'd--be telling you,'” she imitated, rounding and accenting -each word carefully. - -Freckles was beginning to feel a wildness in his head. He had derided -Wessner at that same hour yesterday. Now his own eyes were filling with -tears. - -“If you were understanding the danger!” he continued desperately. - -“Oh, I don't think there is much!” - -She tilted on the morass. - -“If you killed one snake here, it's probably all there is near; and -anyway, the Bird Woman says a rattlesnake is a gentleman and always -gives warning before he strikes. I don't hear any rattling. Do you?” - -“Would you be knowing it if you did?” asked Freckles, almost -impatiently. - -How the laugh of the young thing rippled! - -“'Would I be knowing it?'” she mocked. “You should see the swamps of -Michigan where they dump rattlers from the marl-dredgers three and four -at a time!” - -Freckles stood astounded. She did know. She was not in the least afraid. -She was depending on a rattlesnake to live up to his share of the -contract and rattle in time for her to move. The one characteristic -an Irishman admires in a woman, above all others, is courage. Freckles -worshiped anew. He changed his tactics. - -“I'd be pleased to be receiving you at me front door,” he said, “but as -you have arrived at the back, will you come in and be seated?” - -He waved toward a bench. The Angel came instantly. - -“Oh, how lovely and cool!” she cried. - -As she moved across his room, Freckles had difficult work to keep from -falling on his knees; for they were very weak, while he was hard driven -by an impulse to worship. - -“Did you arrange this?” she asked. - -“Yis,” said Freckles simply. - -“Someone must come with a big canvas and copy each side of it,” she -said. “I never saw anything so beautiful! How I wish I might remain -here with you! I will, some day, if you will let me; but now, if you can -spare the time, will you help me find the carriage? If the Bird Woman -comes back and I am gone, she will be almost distracted.” - -“Did you come on the west road?” asked Freckles. - -“I think so,” she said. “The man who told the Bird Woman said that -was the only place the wires were down. We drove away in, and it was -dreadful--over stumps and logs, and we mired to the hubs. I suppose you -know, though. I should have stayed in the carriage, but I was so tired. -I never dreamed of getting lost. I suspect I will be scolded finely. -I go with the Bird Woman half the time during the summer vacations. My -father says I learn a lot more than I do at school, and get it straight. -I never came within a smell of being lost before. I thought, at first, -it was going to be horrid; but since I've found you, maybe it will be -good fun after all.” - -Freckles was amazed to hear himself excusing: “It was so hot in there. -You couldn't be expected to bear it for hours and not be moving. I can -take you around the trail almost to where you were. Then you can sit in -the carriage, and I will go find the Bird Woman.” - -“You'll be killed if you do! When she stays this long, it means that she -has a focus on something. You see, when she has a focus, and lies in the -weeds and water for hours, and the sun bakes her, and things crawl over -her, and then someone comes along and scares her bird away just as she -has it coaxed up--why, she kills them. If I melt, you won't go after -her. She's probably blistered and half eaten up; but she never will quit -until she is satisfied.” - -“Then it will be safer to be taking care of you,” suggested Freckles. - -“Now you're talking sense!” said the Angel. - -“May I try to help your arm?” he asked. - -“Have you any idea how it hurts?” she parried. - -“A little,” said Freckles. - -“Well, Mr. McLean said We'd probably find his son here” - -“His son!” cried Freckles. - -“That's what he said. And that you would do anything you could for us; -and that we could trust you with our lives. But I would have trusted -you anyway, if I hadn't known a thing about you. Say, your father is -rampaging proud of you, isn't he?” - -“I don't know,” answered the dazed Freckles. - -“Well, call on me if you want reliable information. He's so proud of you -he is all swelled up like the toad in AEsop's Fables. If you have ever -had an arm hurt like this, and can do anything, why, for pity sake, do -it!” - -She turned back her sleeve, holding toward Freckles an arm of palest -cameo, shaped so exquisitely that no sculptor could have chiseled it. - -Freckles unlocked his case, and taking out some cotton cloth, he tore it -in strips. Then he brought a bucket of the cleanest water he could find. -She yielded herself to his touch as a baby, and he bathed away the blood -and bandaged the ugly, ragged wound. He finished his surgery by lapping -the torn sleeve over the cloth and binding it down with a piece of -twine, with the Angel's help about the knots. - -Freckles worked with trembling fingers and a face tense with -earnestness. - -“Is it feeling any better?” he asked. - -“Oh, it's well now!” cried the Angel. “It doesn't hurt at all, any -more.” - -“I'm mighty glad,” said Freckles. “But you had best go and be having -your doctor fix it right; the minute you get home.” - -“Oh, bother! A little scratch like that!” jeered the Angel. “My blood is -perfectly pure. It will heal in three days.” - -“It's cut cruel deep. It might be making a scar,” faltered Freckles, his -eyes on the ground. “'Twould--'twould be an awful pity. A doctor might -know something to prevent it.” - -“Why, I never thought of that!” exclaimed the Angel. - -“I noticed you didn't,” said Freckles softly. “I don't know much about -it, but it seems as if most girls would.” - -The Angel thought intently, while Freckles still knelt beside her. -Suddenly she gave herself an impatient little shake, lifted her glorious -eyes full to his, and the smile that swept her sweet, young face was the -loveliest thing that Freckles ever had seen. - -“Don't let's bother about it,” she proposed, with the faintest hint of -a confiding gesture toward him. “It won't make a scar. Why, it couldn't, -when you have dressed it so nicely.” - -The velvety touch of her warm arm was tingling in Freckles' fingertips. -Dainty lace and fine white ribbon peeped through her torn dress. There -were beautiful rings on her fingers. Every article she wore was of -the finest material and in excellent taste. There was the trembling -Limberlost guard in his coarse clothing, with his cotton rags and -his old pail of swamp water. Freckles was sufficiently accustomed to -contrasts to notice them, and sufficiently fine to be hurt by them -always. - -He lifted his eyes with a shadowy pain in them to hers, and found them -of serene, unconscious purity. What she had said was straight from a -kind, untainted, young heart. She meant every word of it. Freckles' soul -sickened. He scarcely knew whether he could muster strength to stand. - -“We must go and hunt for the carriage,” said the Angel, rising. - -In instant alarm for her, Freckles sprang up, grasped the cudgel, and -led the way, sharply watching every step. He went as close the log as he -felt that he dared, and with a little searching found the carriage. He -cleared a path for the Angel, and with a sigh of relief saw her enter it -safely. The heat was intense. She pushed the damp hair from her temples. - -“This is a shame!” said Freckles. “You'll never be coming here again.” - -“Oh yes I shall!” said the Angel. “The Bird Woman says that these birds -remain over a month in the nest and she would like to make a picture -every few days for seven or eight weeks, perhaps.” - -Freckles barely escaped crying aloud for joy. - -“Then don't you ever be torturing yourself and your horse to be coming -in here again,” he said. “I'll show you a way to drive almost to the -nest on the east trail, and then you can come around to my room and stay -while the Bird Woman works. It's nearly always cool there, and there's -comfortable seats, and water.” - -“Oh! did you have drinking-water there?” she cried. “I was never so -thirsty or so hungry in my life, but I thought I wouldn't mention it.” - -“And I had not the wit to be seeing!” wailed Freckles. “I can be getting -you a good drink in no time.” - -He turned to the trail. - -“Please wait a minute,” called the Angel. “What's your name? I want to -think about you while you are gone.” Freckles lifted his face with the -brown rift across it and smiled quizzically. - -“Freckles?” she guessed, with a peal of laughter. “And mine is----” - -“I'm knowing yours,” interrupted Freckles. - -“I don't believe you do. What is it?” asked the girl. - -“You won't be getting angry?” - -“Not until I've had the water, at least.” - -It was Freckles' turn to laugh. He whipped off his big, floppy straw -hat, stood uncovered before her, and said, in the sweetest of all the -sweet tones of his voice: “There's nothing you could be but the Swamp -Angel.” - -The girl laughed happily. - -Once out of her sight, Freckles ran every step of the way to the cabin. -Mrs. Duncan gave him a small bucket of water, cool from the well. He -carried it in the crook of his right arm, and a basket filled with bread -and butter, cold meat, apple pie, and pickles, in his left hand. - -“Pickles are kind o' cooling,” said Mrs. Duncan. - -Then Freckles ran again. - -The Angel was on her knees, reaching for the bucket, as he came up. - -“Be drinking slow,” he cautioned her. - -“Oh!” she cried, with a long breath of satisfaction. “It's so good! You -are more than kind to bring it!” - -Freckles stood blinking in the dazzling glory of her smile until he -scarcely could see to lift the basket. - -“Mercy!” she exclaimed. “I think I had better be naming you the 'Angel.' -My Guardian Angel.” - -“Yis,” said Freckles. “I look the character every day--but today most -emphatic!” - -“Angels don't go by looks,” laughed the girl. “Your father told us you -had been scrapping. But he told us why. I'd gladly wear all your cuts -and bruises if I could do anything that would make my father look as -peacocky as yours did. He strutted about proper. I never saw anyone look -prouder.” - -“Did he say he was proud of me?” marveled Freckles. - -“He didn't need to,” answered the Angel. “He was radiating pride from -every pore. Now, have you brought me your dinner?” - -“I had my dinner two hours ago,” answered Freckles. - -“Honest Injun?” bantered the Angel. - -“Honest! I brought that on purpose for you.” - -“Well, if you knew how hungry I am, you would know how thankful I am, to -the dot,” said the Angel. - -“Then you be eating,” cried the happy Freckles. - -The Angel sat on a big camera, spread the lunch on the carriage seat, -and divided it in halves. The daintiest parts she could select she -carefully put back into the basket. The remainder she ate. Again -Freckles found her of the swamp, for though she was almost ravenous, -she managed her food as gracefully as his little yellow fellow, and her -every movement was easy and charming. As he watched her with famished -eyes, Freckles told her of his birds, flowers, and books, and never -realized what he was doing. - -He led the horse to a deep pool that he knew of, and the tortured -creature drank greedily, and lovingly rubbed him with its nose as he -wiped down its welted body with grass. Suddenly the Angel cried: “There -comes the Bird Woman!” - -Freckles had intended leaving before she came, but now he was glad -indeed to be there, for a warmer, more worn, and worse bitten creature -he never had seen. She was staggering under a load of cameras and -paraphernalia. Freckles ran to her aid. He took all he could carry of -her load, stowed it in the back of the carriage, and helped her in. -The Angel gave her water, knelt and unfastened the leggings, bathed her -face, and offered the lunch. - -Freckles brought the horse. He was not sure about the harness, but the -Angel knew, and soon they left the swamp. Then he showed them how to -reach the chicken tree from the outside, indicated a cooler place for -the horse, and told them how, the next time they came, the Angel could -find his room while she waited. - -The Bird Woman finished her lunch, and lay back, almost too tired to -speak. - -“Were you for getting Little Chicken's picture?” Freckles asked. - -“Finely!” she answered. “He posed splendidly. But I couldn't do anything -with his mother. She will require coaxing.” - -“The Lord be praised!” muttered Freckles under his breath. - -The Bird Woman began to feel better. - -“Why do you call the baby vulture 'Little Chicken'?” she asked, leaning -toward Freckles in an interested manner. - -“'Twas Duncan began it,” said Freckles. “You see, through the fierce -cold of winter the birds of the swamp were almost starving. It is -mighty lonely here, and they were all the company I was having. I got to -carrying scraps and grain down to them. Duncan was that ginerous he was -giving me of his wheat and corn from his chickens' feed, and he called -the birds me swamp chickens. Then when these big black fellows came, -Mr. McLean said they were our nearest kind to some in the old world -that they called 'Pharaoh's Chickens,' and he called mine 'Freckles' -Chickens.'” - -“Good enough!” cried the Bird Woman, her splotched purple face lighting -with interest. “You must shoot something for them occasionally, and I'll -bring more food when I come. If you will help me keep them until I -get my series, I'll give you a copy of each study I make, mounted in a -book.” - -Freckles drew a deep breath. - -“I'll be doing me very best,” he promised, and from the deeps he meant -it. - -“I wonder if that other egg is going to hatch?” mused the Bird Woman. “I -am afraid not. It should have pipped today. Isn't it a beauty! I never -before saw either an egg or the young. They are rare this far north.” - -“So Mr. McLean said,” answered Freckles. - -Before they drove away, the Bird Woman thanked him for his kindness to -the Angel and to her. She gave him her hand at parting, and Freckles -joyfully realized that this was going to be another person for him to -love. He could not remember, after they had driven away, that they even -had noticed his missing hand, and for the first time in his life he had -forgotten it. - -When the Bird Woman and the Angel were on the home road, she told of -the little corner of paradise into which she had strayed and of her new -name. The Bird Woman looked at the girl and guessed its appropriateness. - -“Did you know Mr. McLean had a son?” asked the Angel. “Isn't the little -accent he has, and the way he twists a sentence, too dear? And isn't it -too old-fashioned and funny to hear him call his father 'mister'?” - -“It sounds too good to be true,” said the Bird Woman, answering the -last question first. “I am so tired of these present-day young men who -patronizingly call their fathers 'Dad,' 'Governor,' 'Old Man' and 'Old -Chap,' that the boy's attitude of respect and deference appealed to me -as being fine as silk. There must be something rare about that young -man.” - -She did not find it necessary to tell the Angel that for several years -she had known the man who so proudly proclaimed himself Freckles' father -to be a bachelor and a Scotchman. The Bird Woman had a fine way of -attending strictly to her own business. - -Freckles turned to the trail, but he stopped at every wild brier to -study the pink satin of the petals. She was not of his world, and -better than any other he knew it; but she might be his Angel, and he was -dreaming of naught but blind, silent worship. He finished the happiest -day of his life, and that night he returned to the swamp as if drawn by -invisible force. That Wessner would try for his revenge, he knew. That -he would be abetted by Black Jack was almost certain, but fear had -fled the happy heart of Freckles. He had kept his trust. He had won the -respect of the Boss. No one ever could wipe from his heart the flood of -holy adoration that had welled with the coming of his Angel. He would do -his best, and trust for strength to meet the dark day of reckoning that -he knew would come sooner or later. He swung round the trail, briskly -tapping the wire, and singing in a voice that scarcely could have been -surpassed for sweetness. - -At the edge of the clearing he came into the bright moonlight and there -sat McLean on his mare. Freckles hurried to him. - -“Is there trouble?” he inquired anxiously. - -“That's what I wanted to ask you,” said the Boss. “I stopped at the -cabin to see you a minute, before I turned in, and they said you had -come down here. You must not do it, Freckles. The swamp is none too -healthful at any time, and at night it is rank poison.” - -Freckles stood combing his fingers through Nellie's mane, while the -dainty creature was twisting her head for his caresses. He pushed back -his hat and looked into McLean's face. “It's come to the 'sleep with one -eye open,' sir. I'm not looking for anything to be happening for a week -or two, but it's bound to come, and soon. If I'm to keep me trust as -I've promised you and meself, I've to live here mostly until the gang -comes. You must be knowing that, sir.” - -“I'm afraid it's true, Freckles,” said McLean. “And I've decided to -double the guard until we come. It will be only a few weeks, now; and -I'm so anxious for you that you must not be left alone further. If -anything should happen to you, Freckles, it would spoil one of the very -dearest plans of my life.” - -Freckles heard with dismay the proposition to place a second guard. - -“Oh! no, no, Mr. McLean,” he cried. “Not for the world! I wouldn't be -having a stranger around, scaring me birds and tramping up me study, and -disturbing all me ways, for any money! I am all the guard you need! I -will be faithful! I will turn over the lease with no tree missing--on -me life, I will! Oh, don't be sending another man to set them saying -I turned coward and asked for help. It will just kill the honor of me -heart if you do it. The only thing I want is another gun. If it railly -comes to trouble, six cartridges ain't many, and you know I am slow-like -about reloading.” McLean reached into his hip pocket and handed a -shining big revolver to Freckles, who slipped it beside the one already -in his belt. - -Then the Boss sat brooding. - -“Freckles,” he said at last, “we never know the timber of a man's soul -until something cuts into him deeply and brings the grain out strong. -You've the making of a mighty fine piece of furniture, my boy, and you -shall have your own way these few weeks yet. Then, if you will go, I -intend to take you to the city and educate you, and you are to be my -son, my lad--my own son!” - -Freckles twisted his finger in Nellie's mane to steady himself. - -“But why should you be doing that, sir?” he faltered. - -McLean slid his arm around the boy's shoulder and gathered him close. - -“Because I love you, Freckles,” he said simply. - -Freckles lifted a white face. “My God, sir!” he whispered. “Oh, my God!” - -McLean tightened his clasp a second longer, then he rode down the trail. - -Freckles lifted his hat and faced the sky. The harvest moon looked down, -sheeting the swamp in silver glory. The Limberlost sang her night song. -The swale softly rustled in the wind. Winged things of night brushed -his face; and still Freckles gazed upward, trying to fathom these things -that had come to him. There was no help from the sky. It seemed far -away, cold, and blue. The earth, where flowers blossomed, angels walked, -and love could be found, was better. But to One, above, he must make -acknowledgment for these miracles. His lips moved and he began talking -softly. - -“Thank You for each separate good thing that has come to me,” he said, -“and above all for the falling of the feather. For if it didn't really -fall from an angel, its falling brought an Angel, and if it's in the -great heart of you to exercise yourself any further about me, oh, do -please to be taking good care of her!” - - - -CHAPTER VI - -Wherein a Fight Occurs and Women Shoot Straight - -The following morning Freckles, inexpressibly happy, circled the -Limberlost. He kept snatches of song ringing, as well as the wires. His -heart was so full that tears of joy glistened in his eyes. He rigorously -strove to divide his thought evenly between McLean and the Angel. -He realized to the fullest the debt he already owed the Boss and the -magnitude of last night's declaration and promises. He was hourly -planning to deliver his trust and then enter with equal zeal on whatever -task his beloved Boss saw fit to set him next. He wanted to be ready to -meet every device that Wessner and Black Jack could think of to outwit -him. He recognized their double leverage, for if they succeeded in -felling even one tree McLean became liable for his wager. - -Freckles' brow wrinkled in his effort to think deeply and strongly, but -from every swaying wild rose the Angel beckoned to him. When he crossed -Sleepy Snake Creek and the goldfinch, waiting as ever, challenged: “SEE -ME?” Freckles saw the dainty swaying grace of the Angel instead. What -is a man to do with an Angel who dismembers herself and scatters over a -whole swamp, thrusting a vivid reminder upon him at every turn? - -Freckles counted the days. This first one he could do little but test -his wires, sing broken snatches, and dream; but before the week would -bring her again he could do many things. He would carry all his books -to the swamp to show to her. He would complete his flower bed, arrange -every detail he had planned for his room, and make of it a bower fairies -might envy. He must devise a way to keep water cool. He would ask Mrs. -Duncan for a double lunch and an especially nice one the day of her next -coming, so that if the Bird Woman happened to be late, the Angel might -not suffer from thirst and hunger. He would tell her to bring heavy -leather leggings, so that he might take her on a trip around the trail. -She should make friends with all of his chickens and see their nests. - -On the line he talked of her incessantly. - -“You needn't be thinking,” he said to the goldfinch, “that because I'm -coming down this line alone day after day, it's always to be so. Some of -these times you'll be swinging on this wire, and you'll see me coming, -and you'll swing, skip, and flirt yourself around, and chip up right -spunky: 'SEE ME?' I'll be saying 'See you? Oh, Lord! See her!' You'll -look, and there she'll stand. The sunshine won't look gold any more, or -the roses pink, or the sky blue, because she'll be the pinkest, bluest, -goldest thing of all. You'll be yelling yourself hoarse with the -jealousy of her. The sawbird will stretch his neck out of joint, and -she'll turn the heads of all the flowers. Wherever she goes, I can -go back afterward and see the things she's seen, walk the path she's -walked, hear the grasses whispering over all she's said; and if there's -a place too swampy for her bits of feet; Holy Mother! Maybe--maybe she'd -be putting the beautiful arms of her around me neck and letting me carry -her over!” - -Freckles shivered as with a chill. He sent the cudgel whirling skyward, -dexterously caught it, and set it spinning. - -“You damned presumptuous fool!” he cried. “The thing for you to be -thinking of would be to stretch in the muck for the feet of her to be -walking over, and then you could hold yourself holy to be even of that -service to her. - -“Maybe she'll be wanting the cup me blue-and-brown chickens raised their -babies in. Perhaps she'd like to stop at the pool and see me bullfrog -that had the goodness to take on human speech to show me the way out of -me trouble. If there's any feathers falling that day, why, it's from the -wings of me chickens--it's sure to be, for the only Angel outside the -gates will be walking this timberline, and every step of the way I'll be -holding me breath and praying that she don't unfold wings and sail away -before the hungry eyes of me.” - -So Freckles dreamed his dreams, made his plans, and watched his line. -He counted not only the days, but the hours of each day. As he told them -off, every one bringing her closer, he grew happier in the prospect of -her coming. He managed daily to leave some offering at the big elm log -for his black chickens. He slipped under the line at every passing, and -went to make sure that nothing was molesting them. Though it was a long -trip, he paid them several extra visits a day for fear a snake, hawk, or -fox might have found the baby. For now his chickens not only represented -all his former interest in them, but they furnished the inducement that -was bringing his Angel. - -Possibly he could find other subjects that the Bird Woman wanted. The -teamster had said that his brother went after her every time he found -a nest. He never had counted the nests that he knew of, and it might be -that among all the birds of the swamp some would be rare to her. - -The feathered folk of the Limberlost were practically undisturbed save -by their natural enemies. It was very probable that among his chickens -others as odd as the big black ones could be found. If she wanted -pictures of half-grown birds, he could pick up fifty in one morning's -trip around the line, for he had fed, handled, and made friends with -them ever since their eyes opened. - -He had gathered bugs and worms all spring as he noticed them on the -grass and bushes, and dropped them into the first little open mouth he -had found. The babies gladly had accepted this queer tri-parent addition -to their natural providers. - -When the week had passed, Freckles had his room crisp and glowing -with fresh living things that represented every color of the swamp. He -carried bark and filled all the muckiest places of the trail. - -It was middle July. The heat of the past few days had dried the water -around and through the Limberlost, so that it was possible to cross it -on foot in almost any direction--if one had an idea of direction and did -not become completely lost in its rank tangle of vegetation and bushes. -The brighter-hued flowers were opening. The trumpet-creepers were -flaunting their gorgeous horns of red and gold sweetness from the tops -of lordly oak and elm, and below entire pools were pink-sheeted in -mallow bloom. - -The heat was doing one other thing that was bound to make Freckles, as a -good Irishman, shiver. As the swale dried, its inhabitants were seeking -the cooler depths of the swamp. They liked neither the heat nor leaving -the field mice, moles, and young rabbits of their chosen location. He -saw them crossing the trail every day as the heat grew intense. The -rattlers were sadly forgetting their manners, for they struck on no -provocation whatever, and did not even remember to rattle afterward. -Daily Freckles was compelled to drive big black snakes and blue racers -from the nests of his chickens. Often the terrified squalls of the -parent birds would reach him far down the line and he would run to -rescue the babies. - -He saw the Angel when the carriage turned from the corduroy into the -clearing. They stopped at the west entrance to the swamp, waiting for -him to precede them down the trail, as he had told them it was safest -for the horse that he should do. They followed the east line to a point -opposite the big chickens' tree, and Freckles carried in the cameras and -showed the Bird Woman a path he had cleared to the log. He explained to -her the effect the heat was having on the snakes, and creeping back to -Little Chicken, brought him to the light. As she worked at setting up -her camera, he told her of the birds of the line, while she stared at -him, wide-eyed and incredulous. - -They arranged that Freckles should drive the carriage into the east -entrance in the shade and then take the horse toward the north to a -better place he knew. Then he was to entertain the Angel at his study or -on the line until the Bird Woman finished her work and came to them. - -“This will take only a little time,” she said. “I know where to set the -camera now, and Little Chicken is big enough to be good and too small -to run away or to act very ugly, so I will be coming soon to see about -those nests. I have ten plates along, and I surely won't use more -than two on him; so perhaps I can get some nests or young birds this -morning.” - -Freckles almost flew, for his dream had come true so soon. He was -walking the timber-line and the Angel was following him. He asked to be -excused for going first, because he wanted to be sure the trail was safe -for her. She laughed at his fears, telling him that it was the polite -thing for him to do, anyway. - -“Oh!” said Freckles, “so you was after knowing that? Well, I didn't -s'pose you did, and I was afraid you'd think me wanting in respect to be -preceding you!” - -The astonished Angel looked at him, caught the irrepressible gleam of -Irish fun in his eyes, so they stood and laughed together. - -Freckles did not realize how he was talking that morning. He showed her -many of the beautiful nests and eggs of the line. She could identify a -number of them, but of some she was ignorant, so they made notes of the -number and color of the eggs, material, and construction of nest, color, -size, and shape of the birds, and went to find them in the book. - -At his room, when Freckles had lifted the overhanging bushes and stepped -back for her to enter, his heart was all out of time and place. The -study was vastly more beautiful than a week previous. The Angel drew a -deep breath and stood gazing first at one side, then at another, -then far down the cathedral aisle. “It's just fairyland!” she cried -ecstatically. Then she turned and stared at Freckles as she had at his -handiwork. - -“What are you planning to be?” she asked wonderingly. - -“Whatever Mr. McLean wants me to,” he replied. - -“What do you do most?” she asked. - -“Watch me lines.” - -“I don't mean work!” - -“Oh, in me spare time I keep me room and study in me books.” - -“Do you work on the room or the books most?” - -“On the room only what it takes to keep it up, and the rest of the time -on me books.” - -The Angel studied him closely. “Well, maybe you are going to be a great -scholar,” she said, “but you don't look it. Your face isn't right for -that, but it's got something big in it--something really great. I -must find out what it is and then you must work on it. Your father is -expecting you to do something. One can tell by the way he talks. You -should begin right away. You've wasted too much time already.” - -Poor Freckles hung his head. He never had wasted an hour in his life. -There never had been one that was his to waste. - -The Angel, studying him intently, read the thought in his face. “Oh, -I don't mean that!” she cried, with the frank dismay of sixteen. -“Of course, you're not lazy! No one ever would think that from your -appearance. It's this I mean: there is something fine, strong, and full -of power in your face. There is something you are to do in this -world, and no matter how you work at all these other things, or how -successfully you do them, it is all wasted until you find the ONE THING -that you can do best. If you hadn't a thing in the world to keep you, -and could go anywhere you please and do anything you want, what would -you do?” persisted the Angel. - -“I'd go to Chicago and sing in the First Episcopal choir,” answered -Freckles promptly. - -The Angel dropped on a seat--the hat she had removed and held in her -fingers rolled to her feet. “There!” she exclaimed vehemently. “You can -see what I'm going to be. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! You can sing? Of -course you can sing! It is written all over you.” - -“Anyone with half wit could have seen he could sing, without having to -be told,” she thought. “It's in the slenderness of his fingers and his -quick nervous touch. It is in the brightness of his hair, the fire of -his eyes, the breadth of his chest, the muscles of his throat and neck; -and above all, it's in every tone of his voice, for even as he speak -it's the sweetest sound I ever heard from the throat of a mortal.” - -“Will you do something for me?” she asked. - -“I'll do anything in the world you want me to,” said Freckles largely, -“and if I can't do what you want, I'll go to work at once and I'll try -'til I can.” - -“Good! That's business!” said the Angel. “You go over there and stand -before that hedge and sing something. Just anything you think of first.” - -Freckles faced the Angel from his banked wall of brown, blue, and -crimson, with its background of solid green, and lifting his face to -the sky, he sang the first thing that came into his mind. It was a -children's song that he had led for the little folks at the Home many -times, recalled to his mind by the Angel's exclamation: - - “To fairyland we go, - With a song of joy, heigh-o. - In dreams we'll stand upon that shore - And all the realm behold; - We'll see the sights so grand - That belong to fairyland, - Its mysteries we will explore, - Its beauties will unfold. - - “Oh, tra, la, la, oh, ha, ha, ha! - We're happy now as we can be, - Our welcome song we will prolong, - And greet you with our melody. - O fairyland, sweet fairyland, - We love to sing----” - - -No song could have given the intense sweetness and rollicking quality -of Freckles' voice better scope. He forgot everything but pride in his -work. He was singing the chorus, and the Angel was shivering in ecstasy, -when clip! clip! came the sharply beating feet of a swiftly ridden horse -down the trail from the north. They both sprang toward the entrance. - -“Freckles! Freckles!” called the voice of the Bird Woman. - -They were at the trail on the instant. - -“Both those revolvers loaded?” she asked. - -“Yes,” said Freckles. - -“Is there a way you can cut across the swamp and reach the chicken tree -in a few minutes, and with little noise?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then go flying,” said the Bird Woman. “Give the Angel a lift behind me, -and we will ride the horse back where you left him and wait for you. I -finished Little Chicken in no time and put him back. His mother came so -close, I felt sure she would enter the log. The light was fine, so I set -and focused the camera and covered it with branches, attached the long -hose, and went away over a hundred feet and hid in some bushes to wait. -A short, stout man and a tall, dark one passed me so closely I almost -could have reached out and touched them. They carried a big saw on their -shoulders. They said they could work until near noon, and then they must -lay off until you passed and then try to load and get out at night. They -went on--not entirely from sight--and began cutting a tree. Mr. McLean -told me the other day what would probably happen here, and if they fell -that tree he loses his wager on you. Keep to the east and north and -hustle. We'll meet you at the carriage. I always am armed. Give Angel -one of your revolvers, and you keep the other. We will separate and -creep toward them from different sides and give them a fusillade that -will send them flying. You hurry, now!” - -She lifted the reins and started briskly down the trail. The Angel, -hatless and with sparkling eyes, was clinging around her waist. - -Freckles wheeled and ran. He worked his way with much care, dodging -limbs and bushes with noiseless tread, and cutting as closely where -he thought the men were as he felt that he dared if he were to remain -unseen. As he ran he tried to think. It was Wessner, burning for his -revenge, aided by the bully of the locality, that he was going to meet. -He was accustomed to that thought but not to the complication of having -two women on his hands who undoubtedly would have to be taken care of in -spite of the Bird Woman's offer to help him. His heart was jarring as it -never had before with running. He must follow the Bird Woman's plan and -meet them at the carriage, but if they really did intend to try to help -him, he must not allow it. Allow the Angel to try to handle a revolver -in his defence? Never! Not for all the trees in the Limberlost! She -might shoot herself. She might forget to watch sharply and run across -a snake that was not particularly well behaved that morning. Freckles -permitted himself a grim smile as he went speeding on. - -When he reached the carriage, the Bird Woman and the Angel had the horse -hitched, the outfit packed, and were calmly waiting. The Bird Woman held -a revolver in her hand. She wore dark clothing. They had pinned a big -focusing cloth over the front of the Angel's light dress. - -“Give Angel one of your revolvers, quick!” said the Bird Woman. “We will -creep up until we are in fair range. The underbrush is so thick and they -are so busy that they will never notice us, if we don't make a noise. -You fire first, then I will pop in from my direction, and then you, -Angel, and shoot quite high, or else very low. We mustn't really hit -them. We'll go close enough to the cowards to make it interesting, and -keep it up until we have them going.” - -Freckles protested. - -The Bird Woman reached over, and, taking the smaller revolver from his -belt, handed it to the Angel. “Keep your nerve steady, dear; watch where -you step, and shoot high,” she said. “Go straight at them from where you -are. Wait until you hear Freckles' first shot, then follow me as closely -as you can, to let them know that we outnumber them. If you want to save -McLean's wager on you, now you go!” she commanded Freckles, who, with an -agonized glance at the Angel, ran toward the east. - -The Bird Woman chose the middle distance, and for a last time cautioned -the Angel as she moved away to lie down and shoot high. - -Through the underbrush the Bird Woman crept even more closely than she -had intended, found a clear range, and waited for Freckles' shot. There -was one long minute of sickening suspense. The men straightened for -breath. Work was difficult with a handsaw in the heat of the swamp. As -they rested, the big dark fellow took a bottle from his pocket and began -oiling the saw. - -“We got to keep mighty quiet,” he said, “and wait to fell it until that -damned guard has gone to his dinner.” - -Again they bent to their work. Freckles' revolver spat fire. Lead -spanged on steel. The saw-handle flew from Wessner's hand and he reeled -from the jar of the shock. Black Jack straightened, uttering a fearful -oath. The hat sailed from his head from the far northeast. The Angel -had not waited for the Bird Woman, and her shot scarcely could have been -called high. At almost the same instant the third shot whistled from the -east. Black Jack sprang into the air with a yell of complete panic, for -it ripped a heel from his boot. Freckles emptied his second chamber, and -the earth spattered over Wessner. Shots poured in rapidly. Without -even reaching for a weapon, both men ran toward the east road in great -leaping bounds, while leaden slugs sung and hissed around them in deadly -earnest. - -Freckles was trimming his corners as closely as he dared, but if the -Angel did not really intend to hit, she was taking risks in a scandalous -manner. - -When the men reached the trail, Freckles yelled at the top of his voice: -“Head them off on the south, boys! Fire from the south!” - -As he had hoped, Jack and Wessner instantly plunged into the swale. A -spattering of lead followed them. They crossed the swale, running low, -with not even one backward glance, and entered the woods beyond the -corduroy. - -Then the little party gathered at the tree. - -“I'd better fix this saw so they can't be using it if they come back,” - said Freckles, taking out his hatchet and making saw-teeth fly. - -“Now we must leave here without being seen,” said the Bird Woman to the -Angel. “It won't do for me to make enemies of these men, for I am likely -to meet them while at work any day.” - -“You can do it by driving straight north on this road,” said Freckles. -“I will go ahead and cut the wires for you. The swale is almost dry. -You will only be sinking a little. In a few rods you will strike a -cornfield. I will take down the fence and let you into that. Follow the -furrows and drive straight across it until you come to the other side. -Be following the fence south until you come to a road through the woods -east of it. Then take that road and follow east until you reach the -pike. You will come out on your way back to town, and two miles north -of anywhere they are likely to be. Don't for your lives ever let it out -that you did this,” he earnestly cautioned, “for it's black enemies you -would be making.” - -Freckles clipped the wires and they drove through. The Angel leaned -from the carriage and held out his revolver. Freckles looked at her in -surprise. Her eyes were black, while her face was a deeper rose than -usual. He felt that his own was white. - -“Did I shoot high enough?” she asked sweetly. “I really forgot about -lying down.” - -Freckles winced. Did the child know how close she had gone? Surely she -could not! Or was it possible that she had the nerve and skill to fire -like that purposely? - -“I will send the first reliable man I meet for McLean,” said the Bird -Woman, gathering up the lines. “If I don't meet one when we reach town, -we will send a messenger. If it wasn't for having the gang see me, I -would go myself; but I will promise you that you will have help in a -little over two hours. You keep well hidden. They must think some of the -gang is with you now. There isn't a chance that they will be back, -but don't run any risks. Remain under cover. If they should come, it -probably would be for their saw.” She laughed as at a fine joke. - - - -CHAPTER VII - -Wherein Freckles Wins Honor and Finds a Footprint on the Trail - -Round-eyed, Freckles watched the Bird Woman and the Angel drive away. -After they were from sight and he was safely hidden among the branches -of a small tree, he remembered that he neither had thanked them nor said -good-bye. Considering what they had been through, they never would come -again. His heart sank until he had palpitation in his wading-boots. - -Stretching the length of the limb, he thought deeply, though he was not -thinking of Black Jack or Wessner. Would the Bird Woman and the Angel -come again? No other woman whom he ever had known would. But did they -resemble any other women he ever had known? He thought of the Bird -Woman's unruffled face and the Angel's revolver practice, and presently -he was not so sure that they would not return. - -What were the people in the big world like? His knowledge was so very -limited. There had been people at the Home, who exchanged a stilted, -perfunctory kindness for their salaries. The visitors who called on -receiving days he had divided into three classes: the psalm-singing -kind, who came with a tear in the eye and hypocrisy in every feature -of their faces; the kind who dressed in silks and jewels, and handed to -those poor little mother-hungry souls worn toys that their children -no longer cared for, in exactly the same spirit in which they pitched -biscuits to the monkeys at the zoo, and for the same reason--to see how -they would take them and be amused by what they would do; and the third -class, whom he considered real people. They made him feel they cared -that he was there, and that they would have been glad to see him -elsewhere. - -Now here was another class, that had all they needed of the world's best -and were engaged in doing work that counted. They had things worth while -to be proud of; and they had met him as a son and brother. With them he -could, for the only time in his life, forget the lost hand that every -day tortured him with a new pang. What kind of people were they and -where did they belong among the classes he knew? He failed to decide, -because he never had known others similar to them; but how he loved -them! - -In the world where he was going soon, were the majority like them, or -were they of the hypocrite and bun-throwing classes? - -He had forgotten the excitement of the morning and the passing of time -when distant voices aroused him, and he gently lifted his head. Nearer -and nearer they came, and as the heavy wagons rumbled down the east -trail he could hear them plainly. The gang were shouting themselves -hoarse for the Limberlost guard. Freckles did not feel that he deserved -it. He would have given much to be able to go to the men and explain, -but to McLean only could he tell his story. - -At the sight of Freckles the men threw up their hats and cheered. McLean -shook hands with him warmly, but big Duncan gathered him into his arms -and hugged him as a bear and choked over a few words of praise. The gang -drove in and finished felling the tree. McLean was angry beyond measure -at this attempt on his property, for in their haste to fell the tree -the thieves had cut too high and wasted a foot and a half of valuable -timber. - -When the last wagon rolled away, McLean sat on the stump and Freckles -told the story he was aching to tell. The Boss scarcely could believe -his senses. Also, he was much disappointed. - -“I have been almost praying all the way over, Freckles,” he said, “that -you would have some evidence by which we could arrest those fellows and -get them out of our way, but this will never do. We can't mix up those -women in it. They have helped you save me the tree and my wager as well. -Going across the country as she does, the Bird Woman never could be -expected to testify against them.” - -“No, indeed; nor the Angel, either, sir,” said Freckles. - -“The Angel?” queried the astonished McLean. - -The Boss listened in silence while Freckles told of the coming and -christening of the Angel. - -“I know her father well,” said McLean at last, “and I have often seen -her. You are right; she is a beautiful young girl, and she appears to be -utterly free from the least particle of false pride or foolishness. I do -not understand why her father risks such a jewel in this place.” - -“He's daring it because she is a jewel, sir,” said Freckles, eagerly. -“Why, she's trusting a rattlesnake to rattle before it strikes her, and -of course, she thinks she can trust mankind as well. The man isn't made -who wouldn't lay down the life of him for her. She doesn't need any -care. Her face and the pretty ways of her are all the protection she -would need in a band of howling savages.” - -“Did you say she handled one of the revolvers?” asked McLean. - -“She scared all the breath out of me body,” admitted Freckles. “Seems -that her father has taught her to shoot. The Bird Woman told her -distinctly to lie low and blaze away high, just to help scare them. The -spunky little thing followed them right out into the west road, spitting -lead like hail, and clipping all around the heads and heels of them; and -I'm damned, sir, if I believe she'd cared a rap if she'd hit. I never -saw much shooting, but if that wasn't the nearest to miss I ever want to -see! Scared the life near out of me body with the fear that she'd drop -one of them. As long as I'd no one to help me but a couple of women that -didn't dare be mixed up in it, all I could do was to let them get away.” - -“Now, will they come back?” asked McLean. - -“Of course!” said Freckles. “They're not going to be taking that. You -could stake your life on it, they'll be coming back. At least, Black -Jack will. Wessner may not have the pluck, unless he is half drunk. Then -he'd be a terror. And the next time--” Freckles hesitated. - -“What?” - -“It will be a question of who shoots first and straightest.” - -“Then the only thing for me to do is to double the guard and bring the -gang here the first minute possible. As soon as I feel that we have the -rarest of the stuff out below, we will come. The fact is, in many cases, -until it is felled it's difficult to tell what a tree will prove to -be. It won't do to leave you here longer alone. Jack has been shooting -twenty years to your one, and it stands to reason that you are no match -for him. Who of the gang would you like best to have with you?” - -“No one, sir,” said Freckles emphatically. “Next time is where I run. -I won't try to fight them alone. I'll just be getting wind of them, and -then make tracks for you. I'll need to come like lightning, and Duncan -has no extra horse, so I'm thinking you'd best get me one--or perhaps a -wheel would be better. I used to do extra work for the Home doctor, and -he would let me take his bicycle to ride around the place. And at times -the head nurse would loan me his for an hour. A wheel would cost less -and be faster than a horse, and would take less care. I believe, if you -are going to town soon, you had best pick up any kind of an old one -at some second-hand store, for if I'm ever called to use it in a hurry -there won't be the handlebars left after crossing the corduroy.” - -“Yes,” said McLean; “and if you didn't have a first-class wheel, you -never could cross the corduroy on it at all.” - -As they walked to the cabin, McLean insisted on another guard, but -Freckles was stubbornly set on fighting his battle alone. He made one -mental condition. If the Bird Woman was going to give up the Little -Chicken series, he would yield to the second guard, solely for the sake -of her work and the presence of the Angel in the Limberlost. He did not -propose to have a second man unless it were absolutely necessary, for -he had been alone so long that he loved the solitude, his chickens, -and flowers. The thought of having a stranger to all his ways come and -meddle with his arrangements, frighten his pets, pull his flowers, -and interrupt him when he wanted to study, so annoyed him that he was -blinded to his real need for help. - -With McLean it was a case of letting his sober, better judgment be -overridden by the boy he was growing so to love that he could not endure -to oppose him, and to have Freckles keep his trust and win alone meant -more than any money the Boss might lose. - -The following morning McLean brought the wheel, and Freckles took it to -the trail to test it. It was new, chainless, with as little as possible -to catch in hurried riding, and in every way the best of its kind. -Freckles went skimming around the trail on it on a preliminary trip -before he locked it in his case and started his minute examination of -his line on foot. He glanced around his room as he left it, and then -stood staring. - -On the moss before his prettiest seat lay the Angel's hat. In the -excitement of yesterday all of them had forgotten it. He went and picked -it up, oh! so carefully, gazing at it with hungry eyes, but touching it -only to carry it to his case, where he hung it on the shining handlebar -of the new wheel and locked it among his treasures. Then he went to the -trail, with a new expression on his face and a strange throbbing in his -heart. He was not in the least afraid of anything that morning. He felt -he was the veriest Daniel, but all his lions seemed weak and harmless. - -What Black Jack's next move would be he could not imagine, but that -there would be a move of some kind was certain. The big bully was not a -man to give up his purpose, or to have the hat swept from his head -with a bullet and bear it meekly. Moreover, Wessner would cling to his -revenge with a Dutchman's singleness of mind. - -Freckles tried to think connectedly, but there were too many places on -the trail where the Angel's footprints were vet visible. She had stepped -in one mucky spot and left a sharp impression. The afternoon sun had -baked it hard, and the horses' hoofs had not obliterated any part of it, -as they had in so many places. Freckles stood fascinated, gazing at -it. He measured it lovingly with his eye. He would not have ventured a -caress on her hat any more than on her person, but this was different. -Surely a footprint on a trail might belong to anyone who found and -wanted it. He stooped under the wires and entered the swamp. With a -little searching, he found a big piece of thick bark loose on a log and -carefully peeling it, carried it out and covered the print so that the -first rain would not obliterate it. - -When he reached his room, he tenderly laid the hat upon his bookshelf, -and to wear off his awkwardness, mounted his wheel and went spinning on -trail again. It was like flying, for the path was worn smooth with his -feet and baked hard with the sun almost all the way. When he came to the -bark, he veered far to one side and smiled at it in passing. Suddenly -he was off the wheel, kneeling beside it. He removed his hat, carefully -lifted the bark, and gazed lovingly at the imprint. - -“I wonder what she was going to say of me voice,” he whispered. “She -never got it said, but from the face of her, I believe she was liking it -fairly well. Perhaps she was going to say that singing was the big thing -I was to be doing. That's what they all thought at the Home. Well, if -it is, I'll just shut me eyes, think of me little room, the face of her -watching, and the heart of her beating, and I'll raise them. Damn them, -if singing will do it, I'll raise them from the benches!” - -With this dire threat, Freckles knelt, as at a wayside spring, and -deliberately laid his lips on the footprint. Then he arose, appearing as -if he had been drinking at the fountain of gladness. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -Wherein Freckles Meets a Man of Affairs and Loses Nothing by the -Encounter - -“Weel, I be drawed on!” exclaimed Mrs. Duncan. - -Freckles stood before her, holding the Angel's hat. - -“I've been thinking this long time that ye or Duncan would see that -sunbonnets werena braw enough for a woman of my standing, and ye're a -guid laddie to bring me this beautiful hat.” - -She turned it around, examining the weave of the straw and the foliage -trimmings, passing her rough fingers over the satin ties delightedly. As -she held it up, admiring it, Freckles' astonished eyes saw a new side of -Sarah Duncan. She was jesting, but under the jest the fact loomed strong -that, though poor, overworked, and with none but God-given refinement, -there was something in her soul crying after that bit of feminine -finery, and it made his heart ache for her. He resolved that when he -reached the city he would send her a hat, if it took fifty dollars to do -it. - -She lingeringly handed it back to him. - -“It's unco guid of ye to think of me,” she said lightly, “but I maun -question your taste a wee. D'ye no think ye had best return this and get -a woman with half her hair gray a little plainer headdress? Seems like -that's far ower gay for me. I'm no' saying that it's no' exactly what -I'd like to hae, but I mauna mak mysel' ridiculous. Ye'd best give this -to somebody young and pretty, say about sixteen. Where did ye come by -it, Freckles? If there's anything been dropping lately, ye hae forgotten -to mention it.” - -“Do you see anything heavenly about that hat?” queried Freckles, holding -it up. - -The morning breeze waved the ribbons gracefully, binding one around -Freckles' sleeve and the other across his chest, where they caught and -clung as if magnetized. - -“Yes,” said Sarah Duncan. “It's verra plain and simple, but it juist -makes ye feel that it's all of the finest stuff. It's exactly what I'd -call a heavenly hat.” - -“Sure,” said Freckles, “for it's belonging to an Angel!” - -Then he told her about the hat and asked her what he should do with it. - -“Take it to her, of course!” said Sarah Duncan. “Like it's the only ane -she has and she may need it badly.” - -Freckles smiled. He had a clear idea about the hat being the only one -the Angel had. However, there was a thing he felt he should do and -wanted to do, but he was not sure. - -“You think I might be taking it home?” he said. - -“Of course ye must,” said Mrs. Duncan. “And without another hour's -delay. It's been here two days noo, and she may want it, and be too busy -or afraid to come.” - -“But how can I take it?” asked Freckles. - -“Gang spinning on your wheel. Ye can do it easy in an hour.” - -“But in that hour, what if----?” - -“Nonsense!” interrupted Sarah Duncan. “Ye've watched that timber-line -until ye're grown fast to it, lad. Give me your boots and club and I'll -gae walk the south end and watch doon the east and west sides until ye -come back.” - -“Mrs. Duncan! You never would be doing it,” cried Freckles. - -“Why not?” inquired she. - -“But you know you're mortal afraid of snakes and a lot of other things -in the swamp.” - -“I am afraid of snakes,” said Mrs. Duncan, “but likely they've gone into -the swamp this hot weather. I'll juist stay on the trail and watch, and -ye might hurry the least bit. The day's so bright it feels like storm. I -can put the bairns on the woodpile to play until I get back. Ye gang awa -and take the blessed little angel her beautiful hat.” - -“Are you sure it will be all right?” urged Freckles. “Do you think if -Mr. McLean came he would care?” - -“Na,” said Mrs. Duncan; “I dinna. If ye and me agree that a thing ought -to be done, and I watch in your place, why, it's bound to be all right -with McLean. Let me pin the hat in a paper, and ye jump on your wheel -and gang flying. Ought ye put on your Sabbath-day clothes?” - -Freckles shook his head. He knew what he should do, but there was no -use in taking time to try to explain it to Mrs. Duncan while he was so -hurried. He exchanged his wading-boots for shoes, gave her his club, and -went spinning toward town. He knew very well where the Angel lived. -He had seen her home many times, and he passed it again without even -raising his eyes from the street, steering straight for her father's -place of business. - -Carrying the hat, Freckles passed a long line of clerks, and at the door -of the private office asked to see the proprietor. When he had waited -a moment, a tall, spare, keen-eyed man faced him, and in brisk, nervous -tones asked: “How can I serve you, sir?” - -Freckles handed him the package and answered, “By delivering to your -daughter this hat, which she was after leaving at me place the other -day, when she went away in a hurry. And by saying to her and the Bird -Woman that I'm more thankful than I'll be having words to express for -the brave things they was doing for me. I'm McLean's Limberlost guard, -sir.” - -“Why don't you take it yourself?” questioned the Man of Affairs. - -Freckles' clear gray eyes met those of the Angel's father squarely, and -he asked: “If you were in my place, would you take it to her yourself?” - -“No, I would not,” said that gentleman quickly. - -“Then why ask why I did not?” came Freckles' lamb-like query. - -“Bless me!” said the Angel's father. He stared at the package, then at -the lifted chin of the boy, and then at the package again, and muttered, -“Excuse me!” - -Freckles bowed. - -“It would be favoring me greatly if you would deliver the hat and the -message. Good morning, sir,” and he turned away. - -“One minute,” said the Angel's father. “Suppose I give you permission to -return this hat in person and make your own acknowledgments.” - -Freckles stood one moment thinking intently, and then he lifted those -eyes of unswerving truth and asked: “Why should you, sir? You are -kind, indade, to mention it, and it's thanking you I am for your good -intintions, but my wanting to go or your being willing to have me ain't -proving that your daughter would be wanting me or care to bother with -me.” - -The Angel's father looked keenly into the face of this extraordinary -young man, for he found it to his liking. - -“There's one other thing I meant to say,” said Freckles. “Every day I -see something, and at times a lot of things, that I think the Bird Woman -would be wanting pictures of badly, if she knew. You might be speaking -of it to her, and if she'd want me to, I can send her word when I find -things she wouldn't likely get elsewhere.” - -“If that's the case,” said the Angel's father, “and you feel under -obligations for her assistance the other day, you can discharge them in -that way. She is spending all her time in the fields and woods searching -for subjects. If you run across things, perhaps rarer than she may find, -about your work, it would save her the time she spends searching for -subjects, and she could work in security under your protection. By all -means let her know if you find subjects you think she could use, and we -will do anything we can for you, if you will give her what help you can -and see that she is as safe as possible.” - -“It's hungry for human beings I am,” said Freckles, “and it's like -Heaven to me to have them come. Of course, I'll be telling or sending -her word every time me work can spare me. Anything I can do it would -make me uncommon happy, but”--again truth had to be told, because it was -Freckles who was speaking--“when it comes to protecting them, I'd risk -me life, to be sure, but even that mightn't do any good in some cases. -There are many dangers to be reckoned with in the swamp, sir, that call -for every person to look sharp. If there wasn't really thieving to guard -against, why, McLean wouldn't need be paying out good money for a guard. -I'd love them to be coming, and I'll do all I can, but you must be told -that there's danger of them running into timber thieves again any day, -sir.” - -“Yes,” said the Angel's father, “and I suppose there's danger of the -earth opening up and swallowing the town any day, but I'm damned if -I quit business for fear it will, and the Bird Woman won't, either. -Everyone knows her and her work, and there is no danger in the world -of anyone in any way molesting her, even if he were stealing a few of -McLean's gold-plated trees. She's as safe in the Limberlost as she is at -home, so far as timber thieves are concerned. All I am ever uneasy about -are the snakes, poison-vines, and insects; and those are risks she must -run anywhere. You need not hesitate a minute about that. I shall be glad -to tell them what you wish. Thank you very much, and good day, sir.” - -There was no way in which Freckles could know it, but by following his -best instincts and being what he conceived a gentleman should be, he -surprised the Man of Affairs into thinking of him and seeing his face -over his books many times that morning; whereas, if he had gone to the -Angel as he had longed to do, her father never would have given him a -second thought. - -On the street he drew a deep breath. How had he acquitted himself? He -only knew that he had lived up to his best impulse, and that is all -anyone can do. He glanced over his wheel to see that it was all right, -and just as he stepped to the curb to mount he heard a voice that -thrilled him through and through: “Freckles! Oh Freckles!” - -The Angel separated from a group of laughing, sweet-faced girls and came -hurrying to him. She was in snowy white--a quaint little frock, with -a marvel of soft lace around her throat and wrists. Through the sheer -sleeves of it her beautiful, rounded arms showed distinctly, and it was -cut just to the base of her perfect neck. On her head was a pure white -creation of fancy braid, with folds on folds of tulle, soft and silken -as cobwebs, lining the brim; while a mass of white roses clustered -against the gold of her hair, crept around the crown, and fell in a riot -to her shoulders at the back. There were gleams of gold with settings -of blue on her fingers, and altogether she was the daintiest, sweetest -sight he ever had seen. Freckles, standing on the curb, forgot himself -in his cotton shirt, corduroys, and his belt to which his wire-cutter -and pliers were hanging, and gazed as a man gazes when first he sees -the woman he adores with all her charms enhanced by appropriate and -beautiful clothing. - -“Oh Freckles,” she cried as she came to him. “I was wondering about you -the other day. Do you know I never saw you in town before. You watch -that old line so closely! Why did you come? Is there any trouble? Are -you just starting to the Limberlost?” - -“I came to bring your hat,” said Freckles. “You forgot it in the rush -the other day. I have left it with your father, and a message trying -to ixpriss the gratitude of me for how you and the Bird Woman were for -helping me out.” - -The Angel nodded gravely, then Freckles saw that he had done the proper -thing in going to her father. His heart bounded until it jarred his -body, for she was saying that she scarcely could wait for the time to -come for the next picture of the Little Chicken series. “I want to hear -the remainder of that song, and I hadn't even begun seeing your room -yet,” she complained. “As for singing, if you can sing like that every -day, I never can get enough of it. I wonder if I couldn't bring my banjo -and some of the songs I like best. I'll play and you sing, and we'll put -the birds out of commission.” - -Freckles stood on the curb with drooped eyes, for he felt that if -he lifted them the tumult of tender adoration in them would show and -frighten her. - -“I was afraid your ixperience the other day would scare you so that -you'd never be coming again,” he found himself saying. - -The Angel laughed gaily. - -“Did I seem scared?” she questioned. - -“No,” said Freckles, “you did not.” - -“Oh, I just enjoyed that,” she cried. “Those hateful, stealing old -things! I had a big notion to pink one of them, but I thought maybe -someway it would be best for you that I shouldn't. They needed it. That -didn't scare me; and as for the Bird Woman, she's accustomed to finding -snakes, tramps, cross dogs, sheep, cattle, and goodness knows what! You -can't frighten her when she's after a picture. Did they come back?” - -“No,” said Freckles. “The gang got there a little after noon and took -out the tree, but I must tell you, and you must tell the Bird Woman, -that there's no doubt but they will be coming back, and they will have -to make it before long now, for it's soon the gang will be there to work -on the swamp.” - -“Oh, what a shame!” cried the Angel. “They'll clear out roads, cut down -the beautiful trees, and tear up everything. They'll drive away the -birds and spoil the cathedral. When they have done their worst, then -all these mills close here will follow in and take out the cheap timber. -Then the landowners will dig a few ditches, build some fires, and in two -summers more the Limberlost will be in corn and potatoes.” - -They looked at each other, and groaned despairingly in unison. - -“You like it, too,” said Freckles. - -“Yes,” said the Angel, “I love it. Your room is a little piece right out -of the heart of fairyland, and the cathedral is God's work, not yours. -You only found it and opened the door after He had it completed. The -birds, flowers, and vines are all so lovely. The Bird Woman says it is -really a fact that the mallows, foxfire, iris, and lilies are larger and -of richer coloring there than in the remainder of the country. She says -it's because of the rich loam and muck. I hate seeing the swamp torn up, -and to you it will be like losing your best friend; won't it?” - -“Something like,” said Freckles. “Still, I've the Limberlost in me heart -so that all of it will be real to me while I live, no matter what they -do to it. I'm glad past telling if you will be coming a few more times, -at least until the gang arrives. Past that time I don't allow mesilf to -be thinking.” - -“Come, have a cool drink before you start back,” said the Angel. - -“I couldn't possibly,” said Freckles. “I left Mrs. Duncan on the trail, -and she's terribly afraid of a lot of things. If she even sees a big -snake, I don't know what she'll do.” - -“It won't take but a minute, and you can ride fast enough to make up -for it. Please. I want to think of something fine for you, to make up a -little for what you did for me that first day.” - -Freckles looked in sheer wonderment into the beautiful face of the -Angel. Did she truly mean it? Would she walk down that street with him, -crippled, homely, in mean clothing, with the tools of his occupation on -him, and share with him the treat she was offering? He could not believe -it, even of the Angel. Still, in justice to the candor of her pure, -sweet face, he would not think that she would make the offer and not -mean it. She really did mean just what she said, but when it came to -carrying out her offer and he saw the stares of her friends, the -sneers of her enemies--if such as she could have enemies--and heard the -whispered jeers of the curious, then she would see her mistake and be -sorry. It would be only a manly thing for him to think this out, and -save her from the results of her own blessed bigness of heart. - -“I railly must be off,” said Freckles earnestly, “but I'm thanking you -more than you'll ever know for your kindness. I'll just be drinking -bowls of icy things all me way home in the thoughts of it.” - -Down came the Angel's foot. Her eyes flashed indignantly. “There's no -sense in that,” she said. “How do you think you would have felt when you -knew I was warm and thirsty and you went and brought me a drink and -I wouldn't take it because--because goodness knows why! You can ride -faster to make up for the time. I've just thought out what I want to fix -for you.” - -She stepped to his side and deliberately slipped her hand under his -arm--that right arm that ended in an empty sleeve. - -“You are coming,” she said firmly. “I won't have it.” - -Freckles could not have told how he felt, neither could anyone else. His -blood rioted and his head swam, but he kept his wits. He bent over her. - -“Please don't, Angel,” he said softly. “You don't understand.” - -How Freckles came to understand was a problem. - -“It's this,” he persisted. “If your father met me on the street, in -my station and dress, with you on me arm, he'd have every right to be -caning me before the people, and not a finger would I lift to stay him.” - -The Angel's eyes snapped. “If you think my father cares about my doing -anything that is right and kind, and that makes me happy to do--why, -then you completely failed in reading my father, and I'll ask him and -just show you.” - -She dropped Freckles' arm and turned toward the entrance to the -building. “Why, look there!” she exclaimed. - -Her father stood in a big window fronting the street, a bundle of papers -in his hand, interestedly watching the little scene, with eyes that -comprehended quite as thoroughly as if he had heard every word. The -Angel caught his glance and made a despairing little gesture toward -Freckles. The Man of Affairs answered her with a look of infinite -tenderness. He nodded his head and waved the papers in the direction she -had indicated, and the veriest dolt could have read the words his lips -formed: “Take him along!” - -A sudden trembling seized Freckles. At sight of the Angel's father he -had stepped back as far from her as he could, leaned the wheel against -him, and snatched off his hat. - -The Angel turned on him with triumphing eyes. - -She was highly strung and not accustomed to being thwarted. “Did You see -that?” she demanded. “Now are you satisfied? Will you come, or must I -call a policeman to bring you?” - -Freckles went. There was nothing else to do. Guiding his wheel, he -walked down the street beside her. On every hand she was kept busy -giving and receiving the cheeriest greetings. She walked into the -parlors exactly as if she owned them. A clerk came hurrying to meet her. - -“There's a table vacant beside a window where it is cool. I'll save it -for you,” and he started back. - -“Please not,” said the Angel. “I've taken this man unawares, when -he's in a rush. I'm afraid if we sit down we'll take too much time and -afterward he will blame me.” - -She walked to the fountain, and a long row of people stared with all the -varying degrees of insolence and curiosity that Freckles had felt they -would. He glanced at the Angel. NOW would she see? - -“On my soul!” he muttered under his breath. “They don't aven touch her!” - -She laid down her sunshade and gloves. She walked to the end of the -counter and turned the full battery of her eyes on the attendant. - -“Please,” she said. - -The white-aproned individual stepped back and gave delighted assent. The -Angel stepped beside him, and selecting a tall, flaring glass, of almost -paper thinness, she stooped and rolled it in a tray of cracked ice. - -“I want to mix a drink for my friend,” she said. “He has a long, hot -ride before him, and I don't want him started off with one of those old -palate-teasing sweetnesses that you mix just on purpose to drive a man -back in ten minutes.” There was an appreciative laugh from the line at -the counter. - -“I want a clear, cool, sparkling drink that has a tang of acid in it. -Where's the cherry phosphate? That, not at all sweet, would be good; -don't you think?” - -The attendant did think. He pointed out the different taps, and the -Angel compounded the drink, while Freckles, standing so erect he almost -leaned backward, gazed at her and paid no attention to anyone else. When -she had the glass brimming, she tilted a little of its contents into a -second glass and tasted it. - -“That's entirely too sweet for a thirsty man,” she said. - -She poured out half the mixture, and refilling the glass, tasted it a -second time. She submitted that result to the attendant. “Isn't that -about the thing?” she asked. - -He replied enthusiastically. “I'd get my wages raised ten a month if I -could learn that trick.” - -The Angel carried the brimming, frosty glass to Freckles. He removed his -hat, and lifting the icy liquid even with her eyes and looking straight -into them, he said in the mellowest of all the mellow tones of his -voice: “I'll be drinking it to the Swamp Angel.” - -As he had said to her that first day, she now cautioned him: “Be -drinking slowly.” - -When the screen-door swung behind them, one of the men at the counter -asked of the attendant: “Now, what did that mean?” - -“Exactly what you saw,” replied he, rather curtly. “We're accustomed -to it here. Hardly a day passes, this hot weather, but she's picking -up some poor, god-forsaken mortal and bringing him in. Then she comes -behind the counter herself and fixes up a drink to suit the occasion. -She's all sorts of fancies about what's what for all kinds of times and -conditions, and you bet she can just hit the spot! Ain't a clerk here -can put up a drink to touch her. She's a sort of knack at it. Every once -in a while, when the Boss sees her, he calls out to her to mix him a -drink.” - -“And does she?” asked the man with an interested grin. - -“Well, I guess! But first she goes back and sees how long it is since -he's had a drink. What he drank last. How warm he is. When he ate last. -Then she comes here and mixes a glass of fizz with a little touch of -acid, and a bit of cherry, lemon, grape, pineapple, or something sour -and cooling, and it hits the spot just as no spot was ever hit before. -I honestly believe that the INTEREST she takes in it is half the -trick, for I watch her closely and I can't come within gunshot of her -concoctions. She has a running bill here. Her father settles once a -month. She gives nine-tenths of it away. Hardly ever touches it herself, -but when she does she makes me mix it. She's just old persimmons. Even -the scrub-boy of this establishment would fight for her. It lasts the -year round, for in winter it's some poor, frozen cuss that she's warming -up on hot coffee or chocolate.” - -“Mighty queer specimen she had this time,” volunteered another. “Irish, -hand off, straight as a ramrod, and something worth while in his face. -Notice that hat peel off, and the eyes of him? There's a case of 'fight -for her!' Wonder who he is?” - -“I think,” said a third, “that he's McLean's Limberlost guard, and I -suspect she's gone to the swamp with the Bird Woman for pictures and -knows him that way. I've heard that he is a master hand with the birds, -and that would just suit the Bird Woman to a T.” - -On the street the Angel walked beside Freckles to the first crossing and -there she stopped. “Now, will you promise to ride fast enough to make up -for the five minutes that took?” she asked. “I am a little uneasy about -Mrs. Duncan.” - -Freckles turned his wheel into the street. It seemed to him he had -poured that delicious icy liquid into every vein in his body instead of -his stomach. It even went to his brain. - -“Did you insist on fixing that drink because you knew how intoxicating -'twould be?” he asked. - -There was subtlety in the compliment and it delighted the Angel. She -laughed gleefully. - -“Next time, maybe you won't take so much coaxing,” she teased. - -“I wouldn't this, if I had known your father and been understanding you -better. Do you really think the Bird Woman will be coming again?” - -The Angel jeered. “Wild horses couldn't drag her away,” she cried. “She -will have hard work to wait the week out. I shouldn't be in the least -surprised to see her start any hour.” - -Freckles could not endure the suspense; it had to come. - -“And you?” he questioned, but he dared not lift his eyes. - -“Wild horses me, too,” she laughed, “couldn't keep me away either! I -dearly love to come, and the next time I am going to bring my banjo, -and I'll play, and you sing for me some of the songs I like best; won't -you?” - -“Yis,” said Freckles, because it was all he was capable of saying just -then. - -“It's beginning to act stormy,” she said. “If you hurry you will just -about make it. Now, good-bye.” - - - -CHAPTER IX - -Wherein the Limberlost Falls upon Mrs. Duncan and Freckles Comes to the -Rescue - -Freckles was halfway to the Limberlost when he dismounted. He could ride -no farther, because he could not see the road. He sat under a tree, and, -leaning against it, sobs shook, twisted, and rent him. If they would -remind him of his position, speak condescendingly, or notice his hand, -he could endure it, but this--it surely would kill him! His hot, pulsing -Irish blood was stirred deeply. What did they mean? Why did they do it? -Were they like that to everyone? Was it pity? - -It could not be, for he knew that the Bird Woman and the Angel's father -must know that he was not really McLean's son, and it did not matter -to them in the least. In spite of accident and poverty, they evidently -expected him to do something worth while in the world. That must be his -remedy. He must work on his education. He must get away. He must find -and do the great thing of which the Angel talked. For the first time, -his thoughts turned anxiously toward the city and the beginning of his -studies. McLean and the Duncans spoke of him as “the boy,” but he was -a man. He must face life bravely and act a man's part. The Angel was a -mere child. He must not allow her to torture him past endurance with her -frank comradeship that meant to him high heaven, earth's richness, and -all that lay between, and NOTHING to her. - -There was an ominous growl of thunder, and amazed at himself, Freckles -snatched up his wheel and raced toward the swamp. He was worried to find -his boots lying at the cabin door; the children playing on the woodpile -told him that “mither” said they were so heavy she couldn't walk in -them, and she had come back and taken them off. Thoroughly frightened, -he stopped only long enough to slip them on, and then sped with all his -strength for the Limberlost. To the west, the long, black, hard-beaten -trail lay clear; but far up the east side, straight across the path, he -could see what was certainly a limp, brown figure. Freckles spun with -all his might. - -Face down, Sarah Duncan lay across the trail. When Freckles turned her -over, his blood chilled at the look of horror settled on her face. There -was a low humming and something spatted against him. Glancing around, -Freckles shivered in terror, for there was a swarm of wild bees settled -on a scrub-thorn only a few yards away. The air was filled with excited, -unsettled bees making ready to lead farther in search of a suitable -location. Then he thought he understood, and with a prayer of -thankfulness in his heart that she had escaped, even so narrowly, he -caught her up and hurried down the trail until they were well out of -danger. He laid her in the shade, and carrying water from the swamp -in the crown of his hat, he bathed her face and hands; but she lay in -unbroken stillness, without a sign of life. - -She had found Freckles' boots so large and heavy that she had gone back -and taken them off, although she was mortally afraid to approach the -swamp without them. The thought of it made her nervous, and the fact -that she never had been there alone added to her fears. She had not -followed the trail many rods when her trouble began. She was not -Freckles, so not a bird of the line was going to be fooled into thinking -she was. - -They began jumping from their nests and darting from unexpected places -around her head and feet, with quick whirs, that kept her starting and -dodging. Before Freckles was halfway to the town, poor Mrs. Duncan was -hysterical, and the Limberlost had neither sung nor performed for her. - -But there was trouble brewing. It was quiet and intensely hot, with that -stifling stillness that precedes a summer storm, and feathers and -fur were tense and nervous. The birds were singing only a few broken -snatches, and flying around, seeking places of shelter. One moment -everything seemed devoid of life, the next there was an unexpected -whir, buzz, and sharp cry. Inside, a pandemonium of growling, spatting, -snarling, and grunting broke loose. - -The swale bent flat before heavy gusts of wind, and the big black -chicken swept lower and lower above the swamp. Patches of clouds -gathered, shutting out the sun and making it very dark, and the next -moment were swept away. The sun poured with fierce, burning brightness, -and everything was quiet. It was at the first growl of thunder that -Freckles really had noticed the weather, and putting his own troubles -aside resolutely, raced for the swamp. - -Sarah Duncan paused on the line. “Weel, I wouldna stay in this place for -a million a month,” she said aloud, and the sound of her voice brought -no comfort, for it was so little like she had thought it that she -glanced hastily around to see if it had really been she that spoke. She -tremblingly wiped the perspiration from her face with the skirt of her -sunbonnet. - -“Awfu' hot,” she panted huskily. “B'lieve there's going to be a big -storm. I do hope Freckles will hurry.” - -Her chin was quivering as a terrified child's. She lifted her bonnet to -replace it and brushed against a bush beside her. WHIRR, almost into her -face, went a nighthawk stretched along a limb for its daytime nap. Mrs. -Duncan cried out and sprang down the trail, alighting on a frog that was -hopping across. The horrible croak it gave as she crushed it sickened -her. She screamed wildly and jumped to one side. That carried her into -the swale, where the grasses reached almost to her waist, and her horror -of snakes returning, she made a flying leap for an old log lying beside -the line. She alighted squarely, but it was so damp and rotten that she -sank straight through it to her knees. She caught at the wire as she -went down, and missing, raked her wrist across a barb until she tore a -bleeding gash. Her fingers closed convulsively around the second strand. -She was too frightened to scream now. Her tongue stiffened. She clung -frantically to the sagging wire, and finally managed to grasp it with -the other hand. Then she could reach the top wire, and so she drew -herself up and found solid footing. She picked up the club that she -had dropped in order to extricate herself. Leaning heavily on it, -she managed to return to the trail, but she was trembling so that she -scarcely could walk. Going a few steps farther, she came to the stump of -the first tree that had been taken out. - -She sat bolt upright and very still, trying to collect her thoughts and -reason away her terror. A squirrel above her dropped a nut, and as it -came rattling down, bouncing from branch to branch, every nerve in her -tugged wildly. When the disgusted squirrel barked loudly, she sprang to -the trail. - -The wind arose higher, the changes from light to darkness were more -abrupt, while the thunder came closer and louder at every peal. In -swarms the blackbirds arose from the swale and came flocking to the -interior, with a clamoring cry: “T'CHECK, T'CHECK.” Grackles marshaled -to the tribal call: “TRALL-A-HEE, TRALL-A-HEE.” Red-winged blackbirds -swept low, calling to belated mates: “FOL-LOW-ME, FOL-LOW-ME.” Big, -jetty crows gathered close to her, crying, as if warning her to flee -before it was everlastingly too late. A heron, fishing the near-by pool -for Freckles' “find-out” frog, fell into trouble with a muskrat and -uttered a rasping note that sent Mrs. Duncan a rod down the line without -realizing that she had moved. She was too shaken to run far. She stopped -and looked around her fearfully. - -Several bees struck her and were angrily buzzing before she noticed -them. Then the humming swelled on all sides. A convulsive sob shook her, -and she ran into the bushes, now into the swale, anywhere to avoid the -swarming bees, ducking, dodging, fighting for her very life. Presently -the humming seemed to become a little fainter. She found the trail -again, and ran with all her might from a few of her angry pursuers. - -As she ran, straining every muscle, she suddenly became aware that, -crossing the trail before her, was a big, round, black body, with brown -markings on its back, like painted geometrical patterns. She tried to -stop, but the louder buzzing behind warned her she dared not. Gathering -her skirts higher, with hair flying around her face and her eyes almost -bursting from their sockets, she ran straight toward it. The sound of -her feet and the humming of the bees alarmed the rattler, so it stopped -across the trail, lifting its head above the grasses of the swale and -rattling inquiringly--rattled until the bees were outdone. - -Straight toward it went the panic-stricken woman, running wildly and -uncontrollably. She took one leap, clearing its body on the path, then -flew ahead with winged feet. The snake, coiled to strike, missed Mrs. -Duncan and landed among the bees instead. They settled over and around -it, and realizing that it had found trouble, it sank among the grasses -and went threshing toward its den in the deep willow-fringed low ground. -The swale appeared as if a reaper were cutting a wide swath. The mass of -enraged bees darted angrily around, searching for it, and striking the -scrub-thorn, began a temporary settling there to discover whether it -were a suitable place. Completely exhausted, Mrs. Duncan staggered on a -few steps farther, fell facing the path, where Freckles found her, and -lay quietly. - -Freckles worked over her until she drew a long, quivering breath and -opened her eyes. - -When she saw him bending above her, she closed them tightly, and -gripping him, struggled to her feet. He helped her, and with his arm -around and half carrying her, they made their way to the clearing. She -clung to him with all her remaining strength, but open her eyes she -would not until her children came clustering around her. Then, brawny, -big Scotswoman though she was, she quietly keeled over again. The -children added their wailing to Freckles' panic. - -This time he was so close the cabin that he could carry her into the -house and lay her on the bed. He sent the oldest boy scudding down the -corduroy for the nearest neighbor, and between them they undressed Mrs. -Duncan and discovered that she was not bitten. They bathed and bound the -bleeding wrist and coaxed her back to consciousness. She lay sobbing and -shuddering. The first intelligent word she said was: “Freckles, look at -that jar on the kitchen table and see if my yeast is no running ower.” - -Several days passed before she could give Duncan and Freckles any -detailed account of what had happened to her, even then she could not -do it without crying as the least of her babies. Freckles was almost -heartbroken, and nursed her as well as any woman could have done; while -big Duncan, with a heart full for them both, worked early and late to -chink every crack of the cabin and examine every spot that possibly -could harbor a snake. The effects of her morning on the trail kept her -shivering half the time. She could not rest until she sent for McLean -and begged him to save Freckles from further risk, in that place of -horrors. The Boss went to the swamp with his mind fully determined to do -so. - -Freckles stood and laughed at him. “Why, Mr. McLean, don't you let a -woman's nervous system set you worrying about me,” he said. “I'm not -denying how she felt, because I've been through it meself, but that's -all over and gone. It's the height of me glory to fight it out with the -old swamp, and all that's in it, or will be coming to it, and then -to turn it over to you as I promised you and meself I'd do, sir. You -couldn't break the heart of me entire quicker than to be taking it from -me now, when I'm just on the home-stretch. It won't be over three or -four weeks yet, and when I've gone it almost a year, why, what's that -to me, sir? You mustn't let a woman get mixed up with business, for I've -always heard about how it's bringing trouble.” - -McLean smiled. “What about that last tree?” he said. - -Freckles blushed and grinned appreciatively. - -“Angels and Bird Women don't count in the common run, sir,” he affirmed -shamelessly. - -McLean sat in the saddle and laughed. - - - -CHAPTER X - -Wherein Freckles Strives Mightily and the Swamp Angel Rewards Him - -The Bird Woman and the Angel did not seem to count in the common run, -for they arrived on time for the third of the series and found McLean on -the line talking to Freckles. The Boss was filled with enthusiasm over a -marsh article of the Bird Woman's that he just had read. He begged to -be allowed to accompany her into the swamp and watch the method by which -she secured an illustration in such a location. - -The Bird Woman explained to him that it was an easy matter with the -subject she then had in hand; and as Little Chicken was too small to -be frightened by him, and big enough to be growing troublesome, she was -glad for his company. They went to the chicken log together, leaving to -the happy Freckles the care of the Angel, who had brought her banjo and -a roll of songs that she wanted to hear him sing. The Bird Woman told -them that they might practice in Freckles' room until she finished with -Little Chicken, and then she and McLean would come to the concert. - -It was almost three hours before they finished and came down the west -trail for their rest and lunch. McLean walked ahead, keeping sharp watch -on the trail and clearing it of fallen limbs from overhanging trees. He -sent a big piece of bark flying into the swale, and then stopped short -and stared at the trail. - -The Bird Woman bent forward. Together they studied that imprint of -the Angel's foot. At last their eyes met, the Bird Woman's filled with -astonishment, and McLean's humid with pity. Neither said a word, but -they knew. McLean entered the swale and hunted up the bark. He replaced -it, and the Bird Woman carefully stepped over. As they reached the -bushes at the entrance, the voice of the Angel stopped them, for it was -commanding and filled with much impatience. - -“Freckles James Ross McLean!” she was saying. “You fill me with -dark-blue despair! You're singing as if your voice were glass and might -break at any minute. Why don't you sing as you did a week ago? Answer me -that, please.” - -Freckles smiled confusedly at the Angel, who sat on one of his fancy -seats, playing his accompaniment on her banjo. - -“You are a fraud,” she said. “Here you went last week and led me to -think that there was the making of a great singer in you, and now you -are singing--do you know how badly you are singing?” - -“Yis,” said Freckles meekly. “I'm thinking I'm too happy to be singing -well today. The music don't come right only when I'm lonesome and sad. -The world's for being all sunshine at prisint, for among you and Mr. -McLean and the Bird Woman I'm after being THAT happy that I can't keep -me thoughts on me notes. It's more than sorry I am to be disappointing -you. Play it over, and I'll be beginning again, and this time I'll hold -hard.” - -“Well,” said the Angel disgustedly, “it seems to me that if I had all -the things to be proud of that you have, I'd lift up my head and sing!” - -“And what is it I've to be proud of, ma'am?” politely inquired Freckles. - -“Why, a whole worldful of things,” cried the Angel explosively. “For -one thing, you can be good and proud over the way you've kept the timber -thieves out of this lease, and the trust your father has in you. You can -be proud that you've never even once disappointed him or failed in what -he believed you could do. You can be proud over the way everyone speaks -of you with trust and honor, and about how brave of heart and strong of -body you are I heard a big man say a few days ago that the Limberlost -was full of disagreeable things--positive dangers, unhealthful as it -could be, and that since the memory of the first settlers it has been a -rendezvous for runaways, thieves, and murderers. This swamp is named for -a man that was lost here and wandered around 'til he starved. That man I -was talking with said he wouldn't take your job for a thousand dollars -a month--in fact, he said he wouldn't have it for any money, and you've -never missed a day or lost a tree. Proud! Why, I should think you would -just parade around about proper over that! - -“And you can always be proud that you are born an Irishman. My father -is Irish, and if you want to see him get up and strut give him a teeny -opening to enlarge on his race. He says that if the Irish had decent -territory they'd lead the world. He says they've always been handicapped -by lack of space and of fertile soil. He says if Ireland had been as big -and fertile as Indiana, why, England wouldn't ever have had the upper -hand. She'd only be an appendage. Fancy England an appendage! He says -Ireland has the finest orators and the keenest statesmen in Europe -today, and when England wants to fight, with whom does she fill her -trenches? Irishmen, of course! Ireland has the greenest grass and trees, -the finest stones and lakes, and they've jaunting-cars. I don't know -just exactly what they are, but Ireland has all there are, anyway. -They've a lot of great actors, and a few singers, and there never was a -sweeter poet than one of theirs. You should hear my father recite 'Dear -Harp of My Country.' He does it this way.” - -The Angel arose, made an elaborate old-time bow, and holding up the -banjo, recited in clipping feet and meter, with rhythmic swing and a -touch of brogue that was simply irresistible: - -“Dear harp of my country” [The Angel ardently clasped the banjo], - -“In darkness I found thee” [She held it to the light], - -“The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long” [She muted the -strings with her rosy palm]; - -“Then proudly, my own Irish harp, I unbound thee” [She threw up her head -and swept a ringing harmony]; - -“And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song” [She crashed into -the notes of the accompaniment she had been playing for Freckles]. - -“That's what you want to be thinking of!” she cried. “Not darkness, and -lonesomeness, and sadness, but 'light, freedom, and song.' I can't begin -to think offhand of all the big, splendid things an Irishman has to be -proud of; but whatever they are, they are all yours, and you are a part -of them. I just despise that 'saddest-when-I-sing' business. You can -sing! Now you go over there and do it! Ireland has had her statesmen, -warriors, actors, and poets; now you be her voice! You stand right out -there before the cathedral door, and I'm going to come down the aisle -playing that accompaniment, and when I stop in front of you--you sing!” - -The Angel's face wore an unusual flush. Her eyes were flashing and she -was palpitating with earnestness. - -She parted the bushes and disappeared. Freckles, straight and tense, -stood waiting. Presently, before he saw she was there, she was coming -down the aisle toward him, playing compellingly, and rifts of light were -touching her with golden glory. Freckles stood as if transfixed. - -The cathedral was majestically beautiful, from arched dome of frescoed -gold, green, and blue in never-ending shades and harmonies, to the -mosaic aisle she trod, richly inlaid in choicest colors, and gigantic -pillars that were God's handiwork fashioned and perfected through ages -of sunshine and rain. But the fair young face and divinely molded form -of the Angel were His most perfect work of all. Never had she appeared -so surpassingly beautiful. She was smiling encouragingly now, and as she -came toward him, she struck the chords full and strong. - -The heart of poor Freckles almost burst with dull pain and his great -love for her. In his desire to fulfill her expectations he forgot -everything else, and when she reached his initial chord he was ready. He -literally burst forth: - - “Three little leaves of Irish green, - United on one stem, - Love, truth, and valor do they mean, - They form a magic gem.” - -The Angel's eyes widened curiously and her lips parted. A deep color -swept into her cheeks. She had intended to arouse him. She had more than -succeeded. She was too young to know that in the effort to rouse a man, -women frequently kindle fires that they neither can quench nor control. -Freckles was looking over her head now and singing that song, as it -never had been sung before, for her alone; and instead of her helping -him, as she had intended, he was carrying her with him on the waves -of his voice, away, away into another world. When he struck into the -chorus, wide-eyed and panting, she was swaying toward him and playing -with all her might. - - “Oh, do you love? Oh, say you love - You love the shamrock green!” - -At the last note, Freckles' voice ceased and he looked at the Angel. He -had given his best and his all. He fell on his knees and folded his arms -across his breast. The Angel, as if magnetized, walked straight down the -aisle to him, and running her fingers into the crisp masses of his red -hair, tilted his head back and laid her lips on his forehead. - -Then she stepped back and faced him. “Good boy!” she said, in a voice -that wavered from the throbbing of her shaken heart. “Dear boy! I knew -you could do it! I knew it was in you! Freckles, when you go into the -world, if you can face a big audience and sing like that, just once, you -will be immortal, and anything you want will be yours.” - -“Anything!” gasped Freckles. - -“Anything,” said the Angel. - -Freckles arose, muttered something, and catching up his old bucket, -plunged into the swamp blindly on a pretence of bringing water. The -Angel walked slowly across the study, sat on the rustic bench, and, -through narrowed lids, intently studied the tip of her shoe. - -On the trail the Bird Woman wheeled to McLean with a dumbfounded look. - -“God!” muttered he. - -At last the Bird Woman spoke. - -“Do you think the Angel knew she did that?” she asked softly. - -“No,” said McLean; “I do not. But the poor boy knew it. Heaven help -him!” - -The Bird Woman stared across the gently waving swale. “I don't see how I -am going to blame her,” she said at last. “It's so exactly what I would -have done myself.” - -“Say the remainder,” demanded McLean hoarsely. “Do him justice.” - -“He was born a gentleman,” conceded the Bird Woman. “He took no -advantage. He never even offered to touch her. Whatever that kiss meant -to him, he recognized that it was the loving impulse of a child under -stress of strong emotion. He was fine and manly as any man ever could -have been.” - -McLean lifted his hat. “Thank you,” he said simply, and parted the -bushes for her to enter Freckles' room. - -It was her first visit. Before she left she sent for her cameras and -made studies of each side of it and of the cathedral. She was entranced -with the delicate beauty of the place, while her eyes kept following -Freckles as if she could not believe that it could be his conception and -work. - -That was a happy day. The Bird Woman had brought a lunch, and they -spread it, with Freckles' dinner, on the study floor and sat, resting -and enjoying themselves. But the Angel put her banjo into its case, -silently gathered her music, and no one mentioned the concert. - -The Bird Woman left McLean and the Angel to clear away the lunch, and -with Freckles examined the walls of his room and told him all she knew -about his shrubs and flowers. She analyzed a cardinal-flower and -showed him what he had wanted to know all summer--why the bees -buzzed ineffectually around it while the humming-birds found in it -an ever-ready feast. Some of his specimens were so rare that she was -unfamiliar with them, and with the flower book between them they -knelt, studying the different varieties. She wandered the length of the -cathedral aisle with him, and it was at her suggestion that he lighted -his altar with a row of flaming foxfire. - -As Freckles came to the cabin from his long day at the swamp he saw -Mrs. Chicken sweeping to the south and wondered where she was going. He -stepped into the bright, cosy little kitchen, and as he reached down the -wash-basin he asked Mrs. Duncan a question. - -“Mother Duncan, do kisses wash off?” - -So warm a wave swept her heart that a half-flush mantled her face. She -straightened her shoulders and glanced at her hands tenderly. - -“Lord, na! Freckles,” she cried. “At least, the anes ye get from people -ye love dinna. They dinna stay on the outside. They strike in until they -find the center of your heart and make their stopping-place there, and -naething can take them from ye--I doubt if even death----Na, lad, ye can -be reet sure kisses dinna wash off!” - -Freckles set the basin down and muttered as he plunged his hot, tired -face into the water, “I needn't be afraid to be washing, then, for that -one struck in.” - - - -CHAPTER XI - -Wherein the Butterflies Go on a Spree and Freckles Informs the Bird -Woman - -“I wish,” said Freckles at breakfast one morning, “that I had some way -to be sending a message to the Bird Woman. I've something at the swamp -that I'm believing never happened before, and surely she'll be wanting -it.” - -“What now, Freckles?” asked Mrs. Duncan. - -“Why, the oddest thing you ever heard of,” said Freckles; “the whole -insect tribe gone on a spree. I'm supposing it's my doings, but it all -happened by accident, like. You see, on the swale side of the line, -right against me trail, there's one of these scrub wild crabtrees. Where -the grass grows thick around it, is the finest place you ever conceived -of for snakes. Having women about has set me trying to clean out those -fellows a bit, and yesterday I noticed that tree in passing. It struck -me that it would be a good idea to be taking it out. First I thought I'd -take me hatchet and cut it down, for it ain't thicker than me upper arm. -Then I remembered how it was blooming in the spring and filling all the -air with sweetness. The coloring of the blossoms is beautiful, and I -hated to be killing it. I just cut the grass short all around it. Then -I started at the ground, trimmed up the trunk near the height of -me shoulder, and left the top spreading. That made it look so truly -ornamental that, idle like, I chips off the rough places neat, and this -morning, on me soul, it's a sight! You see, cutting off the limbs and -trimming up the trunk sets the sap running. In this hot sun it ferments -in a few hours. There isn't much room for more things to crowd on that -tree than there are, and to get drunker isn't noways possible.” - -“Weel, I be drawed on!” exclaimed Mrs. Duncan. “What kind of things do -ye mean, Freckles?” - -“Why, just an army of black ants. Some of them are sucking away like -old topers. Some of them are setting up on their tails and hind legs, -fiddling with their fore-feet and wiping their eyes. Some are rolling -around on the ground, contented. There are quantities of big blue-bottle -flies over the bark and hanging on the grasses around, too drunk to -steer a course flying; so they just buzz away like flying, and all -the time sitting still. The snake-feeders are too full to feed -anything--even more sap to themselves. There's a lot of hard-backed -bugs--beetles, I guess--colored like the brown, blue, and black of a -peacock's tail. They hang on until the legs of them are so wake they -can't stick a minute longer, and then they break away and fall to the -ground. They just lay there on their backs, fably clawing air. When it -wears off a bit, up they get, and go crawling back for more, and they so -full they bump into each other and roll over. Sometimes they can't climb -the tree until they wait to sober up a little. There's a lot of big -black-and-gold bumblebees, done for entire, stumbling over the bark and -rolling on the ground. They just lay there on their backs, rocking from -side to side, singing to themselves like fat, happy babies. The wild -bees keep up a steady buzzing with the beating of their wings. - -“The butterflies are the worst old topers of them all. They're just a -circus! You never saw the like of the beauties! They come every color -you could be naming, and every shape you could be thinking up. They -drink and drink until, if I'm driving them away, they stagger as they -fly and turn somersaults in the air. If I lave them alone, they cling to -the grasses, shivering happy like; and I'm blest, Mother Duncan, if -the best of them could be unlocking the front door with a lead pencil, -even.” - -“I never heard of anything sae surprising,” said Mrs. Duncan. - -“It's a rare sight to watch them, and no one ever made a picture of a -thing like that before, I'm for thinking,” said Freckles earnestly. - -“Na,” said Mrs. Duncan. “Ye can be pretty sure there didna. The Bird -Woman must have word in some way, if ye walk the line and I walk to town -and tell her. If ye think ye can wait until after supper, I am most -sure ye can gang yoursel', for Duncan is coming home and he'd be glad to -watch for ye. If he does na come, and na ane passes that I can send -word with today, I really will gang early in the morning and tell her -mysel'.” - -Freckles took his lunch and went to the swamp. He walked and watched -eagerly. He could find no trace of anything, yet he felt a tense -nervousness, as if trouble might be brooding. He examined every section -of the wire, and kept watchful eyes on the grasses of the swale, in -an effort to discover if anyone had passed through them; but he could -discover no trace of anything to justify his fears. - -He tilted his hat brim to shade his face and looked for his chickens. -They were hanging almost beyond sight in the sky. - -“Gee!” he said. “If I only had your sharp eyes and convenient location -now, I wouldn't need be troubling so.” - -He reached his room and cautiously scanned the entrance before he -stepped in. Then he pushed the bushes apart with his right arm and -entered, his left hand on the butt of his favorite revolver. Instantly -he knew that someone had been there. He stepped to the center of the -room, closely scanning each wall and the floor. He could find no trace -of a clue to confirm his belief, yet so intimate was he with the spirit -of the place that he knew. - -How he knew he could not have told, yet he did know that someone had -entered his room, sat on his benches, and walked over his floor. He was -surest around the case. Nothing was disturbed, yet it seemed to Freckles -that he could see where prying fingers had tried the lock. He stepped -behind the case, carefully examining the ground all around it, and close -beside the tree to which it was nailed he found a deep, fresh footprint -in the spongy soil--a long, narrow print, that was never made by the -foot of Wessner. His heart tugged in his breast as he mentally measured -the print, but he did not linger, for now the feeling arose that he -was being watched. It seemed to him that he could feel the eyes of some -intruder at his back. He knew he was examining things too closely: if -anyone were watching, he did not want him to know that he felt it. - -He took the most open way, and carried water for his flowers and moss -as usual; but he put himself into no position in which he was fully -exposed, and his hand was close his revolver constantly. Growing restive -at last under the strain, he plunged boldly into the swamp and searched -minutely all around his room, but he could not discover the least thing -to give him further cause for alarm. He unlocked his case, took out his -wheel, and for the remainder of the day he rode and watched as he never -had before. Several times he locked the wheel and crossed the swamp on -foot, zigzagging to cover all the space possible. Every rod he traveled -he used the caution that sprang from knowledge of danger and the -direction from which it probably would come. Several times he thought of -sending for McLean, but for his life he could not make up his mind to do -it with nothing more tangible than one footprint to justify him. - -He waited until he was sure Duncan would be at home, if he were coming -for the night, before he went to supper. The first thing he saw as he -crossed the swale was the big bays in the yard. - -There had been no one passing that day, and Duncan readily agreed to -watch until Freckles rode to town. He told Duncan of the footprint, and -urged him to guard closely. Duncan said he might rest easy, and filling -his pipe and taking a good revolver, the big man went to the Limberlost. - -Freckles made himself clean and neat, and raced to town, but it was -night and the stars were shining before he reached the home of the Bird -Woman. From afar he could see that the house was ablaze with lights. The -lawn and veranda were strung with fancy lanterns and alive with people. -He thought his errand important, so to turn back never occurred to -Freckles. This was all the time or opportunity he would have. He must -see the Bird Woman, and see her at once. He leaned his wheel inside the -fence and walked up the broad front entrance. As he neared the steps, he -saw that the place was swarming with young people, and the Angel, with -an excuse to a group that surrounded her, came hurrying to him. - -“Oh Freckles!” she cried delightedly. “So you could come? We were so -afraid you could not! I'm as glad as I can be!” - -“I don't understand,” said Freckles. “Were you expecting me?” - -“Why of course!” exclaimed the Angel. “Haven't you come to my party? -Didn't you get my invitation? I sent you one.” - -“By mail?” asked Freckles. - -“Yes,” said the Angel. “I had to help with the preparations, and I -couldn't find time to drive out; but I wrote you a letter, and told -you that the Bird Woman was giving a party for me, and we wanted you -to come, surely. I told them at the office to put it with Mr. Duncan's -mail.” - -“Then that's likely where it is at present,” said Freckles. “Duncan -comes to town only once a week, and at times not that. He's home tonight -for the first in a week. He's watching an hour for me until I come to -the Bird Woman with a bit of work I thought she'd be caring to hear -about bad. Is she where I can see her?” - -The Angel's face clouded. - -“What a disappointment!” she cried. “I did so want all my friends to -know you. Can't you stay anyway?” - -Freckles glanced from his wading-boots to the patent leathers of some of -the Angel's friends, and smiled whimsically, but there was no danger of -his ever misjudging her again. - -“You know I cannot, Angel,” he said. - -“I am afraid I do,” she said ruefully. “It's too bad! But there is a -thing I want for you more than to come to my party, and that is to hang -on and win with your work. I think of you every day, and I just pray -that those thieves are not getting ahead of you. Oh, Freckles, do watch -closely!” - -She was so lovely a picture as she stood before him, ardent in his -cause, that Freckles could not take his eyes from her to notice what her -friends were thinking. If she did not mind, why should he? Anyway, -if they really were the Angel's friends, probably they were better -accustomed to her ways than he. - -Her face and bared neck and arms were like the wild rose bloom. Her -soft frock of white tulle lifted and stirred around her with the gentle -evening air. The beautiful golden hair, that crept around her temples -and ears as if it loved to cling there, was caught back and bound with -broad blue satin ribbon. There was a sash of blue at her waist, and -knots of it catching up her draperies. - -“Must I go after the Bird Woman?” she pleaded. - -“Indade, you must,” answered Freckles firmly. - -The Angel went away, but returned to say that the Bird Woman was telling -a story to those inside and she could not come for a short time. - -“You won't come in?” she pleaded. - -“I must not,” said Freckles. “I am not dressed to be among your friends, -and I might be forgetting meself and stay too long.” - -“Then,” said the Angel, “we mustn't go through the house, because it -would disturb the story; but I want you to come the outside way to the -conservatory and have some of my birthday lunch and some cake to take to -Mrs. Duncan and the babies. Won't that be fun?” - -Freckles thought that it would be more than fun, and followed -delightedly. - -The Angel gave him a big glass, brimming with some icy, sparkling liquid -that struck his palate as it never had been touched before, because a -combination of frosty fruit juices had not been a frequent beverage with -him. The night was warm, and the Angel most beautiful and kind. A triple -delirium of spirit, mind, and body seized upon him and developed a -boldness all unnatural. He slightly parted the heavy curtains that -separated the conservatory from the company and looked between. He -almost stopped breathing. He had read of things like that, but he never -had seen them. - -The open space seemed to stretch through half a dozen rooms, all ablaze -with lights, perfumed with flowers, and filled with elegantly dressed -people. There were glimpses of polished floors, sparkling glass, and -fine furnishings. From somewhere, the voice of his beloved Bird Woman -arose and fell. - -The Angel crowded beside him and was watching also. - -“Doesn't it look pretty?” she whispered. - -“Do you suppose Heaven is any finer than that?” asked Freckles. - -The Angel began to laugh. - -“Do you want to be laughing harder than that?” queried Freckles. - -“A laugh is always good,” said the Angel. “A little more avoirdupois -won't hurt me. Go ahead.” - -“Well then,” said Freckles, “it's only that I feel all over as if I -belonged there. I could wear fine clothes, and move over those floors, -and hold me own against the best of them.” - -“But where does my laugh come in?” demanded the Angel, as if she had -been defrauded. - -“And you ask me where the laugh comes in, looking me in the face after -that,” marveled Freckles. - -“I wouldn't be so foolish as to laugh at such a manifest truth as that,” - said the Angel. “Anyone who knows you even half as well as I do, knows -that you are never guilty of a discourtesy, and you move with twice the -grace of any man here. Why shouldn't you feel as if you belonged where -people are graceful and courteous?” - -“On me soul!” said Freckles, “you are kind to be thinking it. You are -doubly kind to be saying it.” - -The curtains parted and a woman came toward them. Her silks and laces -trailed across the polished floors. The lights gleamed on her neck and -arms, and flashed from rare jewels. She was smiling brightly; and until -she spoke, Freckles had not realized fully that it was his loved Bird -Woman. - -Noticing his bewilderment, she cried: “Why, Freckles! Don't you know me -in my war clothes?” - -“I do in the uniform in which you fight the Limberlost,” said Freckles. - -The Bird Woman laughed. Then he told her why he had come, but she -scarcely could believe him. She could not say exactly when she would go, -but she would make it as soon as possible, for she was most anxious for -the study. - -While they talked, the Angel was busy packing a box of sandwiches, -cake, fruit, and flowers. She gave him a last frosty glass, thanked him -repeatedly for bringing news of new material; then Freckles went into -the night. He rode toward the Limberlost with his eyes on the stars. -Presently he removed his hat, hung it to his belt, and ruffled his -hair to the sweep of the night wind. He filled the air all the way with -snatches of oratorios, gospel hymns, and dialect and coon songs, in a -startlingly varied programme. The one thing Freckles knew that he could -do was to sing. The Duncans heard him coming a mile up the corduroy and -could not believe their senses. Freckles unfastened the box from -his belt, and gave Mrs. Duncan and the children all the eatables -it contained, except one big piece of cake that he carried to the -sweet-loving Duncan. He put the flowers back in the box and set it among -his books. He did not say anything, but they understood it was not to be -touched. - -“Thae's Freckles' flow'rs,” said a tiny Scotsman, “but,” he added -cheerfully, “it's oor sweeties!” - -Freckles' face slowly flushed as he took Duncan's cake and started -toward the swamp. While Duncan ate, Freckles told him something about -the evening, as well as he could find words to express himself, and the -big man was so amazed he kept forgetting the treat in his hands. - -Then Freckles mounted his wheel and began a spin that terminated only -when the biggest Plymouth Rock in Duncan's coop saluted a new day, and -long lines of light reddened the east. As he rode he sang, while he -sang he worshiped, but the god he tried to glorify was a dim and faraway -mystery. The Angel was warm flesh and blood. - -Every time he passed the little bark-covered imprint on the trail he -dismounted, removed his hat, solemnly knelt and laid his lips on the -impression. Because he kept no account himself, only the laughing-faced -old man of the moon knew how often it happened; and as from the -beginning, to the follies of earth that gentleman has ever been kind. - -With the near approach of dawn Freckles tuned his last note. Wearied -almost to falling, he turned from the trail into the path leading to the -cabin for a few hours' rest. - - - -CHAPTER XII - -Wherein Black Jack Captures Freckles and the Angel Captures Jack - -As Freckles left the trail, from the swale close the south entrance, -four large muscular men arose and swiftly and carefully entered the -swamp by the wagon road. Two of them carried a big saw, the third, coils -of rope and wire, and all of them were heavily armed. They left one man -on guard at the entrance. The other three made their way through the -darkness as best they could, and were soon at Freckles' room. He had -left the swamp on his wheel from the west trail. They counted on his -returning on the wheel and circling the east line before he came there. - -A little below the west entrance to Freckles' room, Black Jack stepped -into the swale, and binding a wire tightly around a scrub oak, carried -it below the waving grasses, stretched it taut across the trail, and -fastened it to a tree in the swamp. Then he obliterated all signs of his -work, and arranged the grass over the wire until it was so completely -covered that only minute examination would reveal it. They entered -Freckles' room with coarse oaths and jests. In a few moments, his -specimen case with its precious contents was rolled into the swamp, -while the saw was eating into one of the finest trees of the Limberlost. - -The first report from the man on watch was that Duncan had driven to the -South camp; the second, that Freckles was coming. The man watching was -sent to see on which side the boy turned into the path; as they had -expected, he took the east. He was a little tired and his head was -rather stupid, for he had not been able to sleep as he had hoped, but he -was very happy. Although he watched until his eyes ached, he could see -no sign of anyone having entered the swamp. - -He called a cheery greeting to all his chickens. At Sleepy Snake Creek -he almost fell from his wheel with surprise: the saw-bird was surrounded -by four lanky youngsters clamoring for breakfast. The father was -strutting with all the importance of a drum major. - -“No use to expect the Bird Woman today,” said Freckles; “but now -wouldn't she be jumping for a chance at that?” - -As soon as Freckles was far down the east line, the watch was posted -below the room on the west to report his coming. It was only a few -moments before the signal came. Then the saw stopped, and the rope was -brought out and uncoiled close to a sapling. Wessner and Black Jack -crowded to the very edge of the swamp a little above the wire, and -crouched, waiting. - -They heard Freckles before they saw him. He came gliding down the line -swiftly, and as he rode he was singing softly: - - “Oh, do you love, - Oh, say you love----” - -He got no farther. The sharply driven wheel struck the tense wire and -bounded back. Freckles shot over the handlebar and coasted down the -trail on his chest. As he struck, Black Jack and Wessner were upon him. -Wessner caught off an old felt hat and clapped it over Freckles' mouth, -while Black Jack twisted the boy's arms behind him and they rushed him -into his room. Almost before he realized that anything had happened, he -was trussed to a tree and securely gagged. - -Then three of the men resumed work on the tree. The other followed -the path Freckles had worn to Little Chicken's tree, and presently -he reported that the wires were down and two teams with the loading -apparatus coming to take out the timber. All the time the saw was slowly -eating, eating into the big tree. - -Wessner went to the trail and removed the wire. He picked up Freckles' -wheel, that did not seem to be injured, and leaned it against the bushes -so that if anyone did pass on the trail he would not see it doubled in -the swamp-grass. - -Then he came and stood in front of Freckles and laughed in devilish -hate. To his own amazement, Freckles found himself looking fear in the -face, and marveled that he was not afraid. Four to one! The tree halfway -eaten through, the wagons coming up the inside road--he, bound and -gagged! The men with Black Jack and Wessner had belonged to McLean's -gang when last he had heard of them, but who those coming with the -wagons might be he could not guess. - -If they secured that tree, McLean lost its value, lost his wager, and -lost his faith in him. The words of the Angel hammered in his ears. “Oh, -Freckles, do watch closely!” - -The saw worked steadily. - -When the tree was down and loaded, what would they do? Pull out, and -leave him there to report them? It was not to be hoped for. The place -always had been lawless. It could mean but one thing. - -A mist swept before his eyes, while his head swam. Was it only last -night that he had worshiped the Angel in a delirium of happiness? And -now, what? Wessner, released from a turn at the saw, walked to the -flower bed, and tearing up a handful of rare ferns by the roots, started -toward Freckles. His intention was obvious. Black Jack stopped him, with -an oath. - -“You see here, Dutchy,” he bawled, “mebby you think you'll wash his face -with that, but you won't. A contract's a contract. We agreed to take out -these trees and leave him for you to dispose of whatever way you please, -provided you shut him up eternally on this deal. But I'll not see a tied -man tormented by a fellow that he can lick up the ground with, loose, -and that's flat. It raises my gorge to think what he'll get when we're -gone, but you needn't think you're free to begin before. Don't you lay a -hand on him while I'm here! What do you say, boys?” - -“I say yes,” growled one of McLean's latest deserters. “What's more, -we're a pack of fools to risk the dirty work of silencing him. You had -him face down and you on his back; why the hell didn't you cover his -head and roll him into the bushes until we were gone? When I went into -this, I didn't understand that he was to see all of us and that there -was murder on the ticket. I'm not up to it. I don't mind lifting trees -we came for, but I'm cursed if I want blood on my hands.” - -“Well, you ain't going to get it,” bellowed Jack. “You fellows only -contracted to help me get out my marked trees. He belong to Wessner, and -it ain't in our deal what happens to him.” - -“Yes, and if Wessner finishes him safely, we are practically in for -murder as well as stealing the trees; and if he don't, all hell's to -pay. I think you've made a damnable bungle of this thing; that's what I -think!” - -“Then keep your thoughts to yourself,” cried Jack. “We're doing this, -and it's all planned safe and sure. As for killing that buck--come to -think of it, killing is what he needs. He's away too good for this world -of woe, anyhow. I tell you, it's all safe enough. His dropping out won't -be the only secret the old Limberlost has never told. It's too dead easy -to make it look like he helped take the timber and then cut. Why, he's -played right into our hands. He was here at the swamp all last night, -and back again in an hour or so. When we get our plan worked out, even -old fool Duncan won't lift a finger to look for his carcass. We couldn't -have him going in better shape.” - -“You just bet,” said Wessner. “I owe him all he'll get, and be damned to -you, but I'll pay!” he snarled at Freckles. - -So it was killing, then. They were not only after this one tree, but -many, and with his body it was their plan to kill his honor. To brand -him a thief, with them, before the Angel, the Bird Woman, the dear Boss, -and the Duncans--Freckles, in sick despair, sagged against the ropes. - -Then he gathered his forces and thought swiftly. There was no hope -of McLean's coming. They had chosen a day when they knew he had a big -contract at the South camp. The Boss could not come before tomorrow by -any possibility, and there would be no tomorrow for the boy. Duncan was -on his way to the South camp, and the Bird Woman had said she would come -as soon as she could. After the fatigue of the party, it was useless -to expect her and the Angel today, and God save them from coming! The -Angel's father had said they would be as safe in the Limberlost as at -home. What would he think of this? - -The sweat broke on Freckles' forehead. He tugged at the ropes whenever -he felt that he dared, but they were passed around the tree and his body -several times, and knotted on his chest. He was helpless. There was no -hope, no help. And after they had conspired to make him appear a runaway -thief to his loved ones, what was it that Wessner would do to him? - -Whatever it was, Freckles lifted his head and resolved that he would -bear in mind what he had once heard the Bird Woman say. He would go out -bonnily. Never would he let them see, if he grew afraid. After all, what -did it matter what they did to his body if by some scheme of the devil -they could encompass his disgrace? - -Then hope suddenly rose high in Freckles' breast. They could not do -that! The Angel would not believe. Neither would McLean. He would keep -up his courage. Kill him they could; dishonor him they could not. - -Yet, summon all the fortitude he might, that saw eating into the tree -rasped his nerves worse and worse. With whirling brain he gazed into -the Limberlost, searching for something, he knew not what, and in blank -horror found his eyes focusing on the Angel. She was quite a distance -away, but he could see her white lips and angry expression. - -Last week he had taken her and the Bird Woman across the swamp over the -path he followed in going from his room to the chicken tree. He had told -them the night before, that the butterfly tree was on the line close to -this path. In figuring on their not coming that day, he failed to reckon -with the enthusiasm of the Bird Woman. They must be there for the study, -and the Angel had risked crossing the swamp in search of him. Or was -there something in his room they needed? The blood surged in his ears as -the roar of the Limberlost in the wrath of a storm. - -He looked again, and it had been a dream. She was not there. Had she -been? For his life, Freckles could not tell whether he really had seen -the Angel, or whether his strained senses had played him the most cruel -trick of all. Or was it not the kindest? Now he could go with the vision -of her lovely face fresh with him. - -“Thank You for that, oh God!” whispered Freckles. “'Twas more than kind -of You and I don't s'pose I ought to be wanting anything else; but -if You can, oh, I wish I could know before this ends, if 'twas me -mother”--Freckles could not even whisper the words, for he hesitated a -second and ended--“IF 'TWAS ME MOTHER DID IT!” - -“Freckles! Freckles! Oh, Freckles!” the voice of the Angel came calling. -Freckles swayed forward and wrenched at the rope until it cut deeply -into his body. - -“Hell!” cried Black Jack. “Who is that? Do you know?” - -Freckles nodded. - -Jack whipped out a revolver and snatched the gag from Freckles' mouth. - -“Say quick, or it's up with you right now, and whoever that is with -you!” - -“It's the girl the Bird Woman takes with her,” whispered Freckles -through dry, swollen lips. - -“They ain't due here for five days yet,” said Wessner. “We got on to -that last week.” - -“Yes,” said Freckles, “but I found a tree covered with butterflies and -things along the east line yesterday that I thought the Bird Woman would -want extra, and I went to town to tell her last night. She said she'd -come soon, but she didn't say when. They must be here. I take care of -the girl while the Bird Woman works. Untie me quick until she is gone. -I'll try to send her back, and then you can go on with your dirty work.” - -“He ain't lying,” volunteered Wessner. “I saw that tree covered with -butterflies and him watching around it when we were spying on him -yesterday.” - -“No, he leaves lying to your sort,” snapped Black Jack, as he undid the -rope and pitched it across the room. “Remember that you're covered every -move you make, my buck,” he cautioned. - -“Freckles! Freckles!” came the Angel's impatient voice, closer and -closer. - -“I must be answering,” said Freckles, and Jack nodded. “Right here!” - he called, and to the men: “You go on with your work, and remember -one thing yourselves. The work of the Bird Woman is known all over the -world. This girl's father is a rich man, and she is all he has. If you -offer hurt of any kind to either of them, this world has no place far -enough away or dark enough for you to be hiding in. Hell will be easy to -what any man will get if he touches either of them!” - -“Freckles, where are you?” demanded the Angel. - -Soulsick with fear for her, Freckles went toward her and parted the -bushes that she might enter. She came through without apparently giving -him a glance, and the first words she said were: “Why have the gang come -so soon? I didn't know you expected them for three weeks yet. Or is this -some especial tree that Mr. McLean needs to fill an order right now?” - -Freckles hesitated. Would a man dare lie to save himself? No. But to -save the Angel--surely that was different. He opened his lips, but the -Angel was capable of saving herself. She walked among them, exactly as -if she had been reared in a lumber camp, and never waited for an answer. - -“Why, your specimen case!” she cried. “Look! Haven't you noticed that -it's tipped over? Set it straight, quickly!” - -A couple of the men stepped out and carefully righted the case. - -“There! That's better,” she said. “Freckles, I'm surprised at your being -so careless. It would be a shame to break those lovely butterflies for -one old tree! Is that a valuable tree? Why didn't you tell us last night -you were going to take out a tree this morning? Oh, say, did you put -your case there to protect that tree from that stealing old Black Jack -and his gang? I bet you did! Well, if that wasn't bright! What kind of a -tree is it?” - -“It's a white oak,” said Freckles. - -“Like those they make dining-tables and sideboards from?” - -“Yes.” - -“My! How interesting!” she cried. “I don't know a thing about timber, -but my father wants me to learn just everything I can. I am going to ask -him to let me come here and watch you until I know enough to boss a gang -myself. Do you like to cut trees, gentlemen?” she asked with angelic -sweetness of the men. - -Some of them appeared foolish and some grim, but one managed to say they -did. - -Then the Angel's eyes turned full on Black Jack, and she gave the most -natural little start of astonishment. - -“Oh! I almost thought that you were a ghost!” she cried. “But I see now -that you are really and truly. Were you ever in Colorado?” - -“No,” said Jack. - -“I see you aren't the same man,” said the Angel. “You know, we were in -Colorado last year, and there was a cowboy who was the handsomest man -anywhere around. He'd come riding into town every night, and all we -girls just adored him! Oh, but he was a beauty! I thought at first -glance you were really he, but I see now he wasn't nearly so tall nor so -broad as you, and only half as handsome.” - -The men began to laugh while Jack flushed crimson. The Angel joined in -the laugh. - -“Well, I'll leave it to you! Isn't he handsome?” she challenged. “As for -that cowboy's face, it couldn't be compared with yours. The only trouble -with you is that your clothes are spoiling you. It's the dress those -cowboys wear that makes half their attraction. If you were properly -clothed, you could break the heart of the prettiest girl in the -country.” - -With one accord the other men looked at Black Jack, and for the first -time realized that he was a superb specimen of manhood, for he stood six -feet tall, was broad, well-rounded, and had dark, even skin, big black -eyes, and full red lips. - -“I'll tell you what!” exclaimed the Angel. “I'd just love to see you on -horseback. Nothing sets a handsome man off so splendidly. Do you ride?” - -“Yes,” said Jack, and his eyes were burning on the Angel as if he would -fathom the depths of her soul. - -“Well,” said the Angel winsomely, “I know what I just wish you'd do. -I wish you would let your hair grow a little longer. Then wear a -blue flannel shirt a little open at the throat, a red tie, and a -broad-brimmed felt hat, and ride past my house of evenings. I'm always -at home then, and almost always on the veranda, and, oh! but I would -like to see you! Will you do that for me?” It is impossible to describe -the art with which the Angel asked the question. She was looking -straight into Jack's face, coarse and hardened with sin and careless -living, which was now taking on a wholly different expression. The evil -lines of it were softening and fading under her clear gaze. A dull red -flamed into his bronze cheeks, while his eyes were growing brightly -tender. - -“Yes,” he said, and the glance he gave the men was of such a nature that -no one saw fit even to change countenance. - -“Oh, goody!” she cried, tilting on her toes. “I'll ask all the girls -to come see, but they needn't stick in! We can get along without them, -can't we?” - -Jack leaned toward her. He was the charmed fluttering bird, while the -Angel was the snake. - -“Well, I rather guess!” he cried. - -The Angel drew a deep breath and surveyed him rapturously. - -“My, but you're tall!” she commented. “Do you suppose I ever will grow -to reach your shoulders?” - -She stood on tiptoe and measured the distance with her eyes. Then she -developed timid confusion, while her glance sought the ground. - -“I wish I could do something,” she half whispered. - -Jack seemed to increase an inch in height. - -“What?” he asked hoarsely. - -“Lariat Bill used always to have a bunch of red flowers in his shirt -pocket. The red lit up his dark eyes and olive cheeks and made him -splendid. May I put some red flowers on you?” - -Freckles stared as he wheezed for breath. He wished the earth would open -and swallow him. Was he dead or alive? Since his Angel had seen Black -Jack she never had glanced his way. Was she completely bewitched? Would -she throw herself at the man's feet before them all? Couldn't she give -him even one thought? Hadn't she seen that he was gagged and bound? Did -she truly think that these were McLean's men? Why, she could not! It was -only a few days ago that she had been close enough to this man and angry -enough with him to peel the hat from his head with a shot! Suddenly a -thing she had said jestingly to him one day came back with startling -force: “You must take Angels on trust.” Of course you must! She was his -Angel. She must have seen! His life, and what was far more, her own, was -in her hands. There was nothing he could do but trust her. Surely she -was working out some plan. - -The Angel knelt beside his flower bed and recklessly tore up by the -roots a big bunch of foxfire. - -“These stems are so tough and sticky,” she said. “I can't break them. -Loan me your knife,” she ordered Freckles. - -As she reached for the knife, her back was for one second toward the -men. She looked into his eyes and deliberately winked. - -She severed the stems, tossed the knife to Freckles, and walking to -Jack, laid the flowers over his heart. - -Freckles broke into a sweat of agony. He had said she would be safe in -a herd of howling savages. Would she? If Black Jack even made a motion -toward touching her, Freckles knew that from somewhere he would muster -the strength to kill him. He mentally measured the distance to where his -club lay and set his muscles for a spring. But no--by the splendor of -God! The big fellow was baring his head with a hand that was unsteady. -The Angel pulled one of the long silver pins from her hat and fastened -her flowers securely. - -Freckles was quaking. What was to come next? What was she planning, and -oh! did she understand the danger of her presence among those men; the -real necessity for action? - -As the Angel stepped from Jack, she turned her head to one side and -peered at him, quite as Freckles had seen the little yellow fellow do -on the line a hundred times, and said: “Well, that does the trick! Isn't -that fine? See how it sets him off, boys? Don't you forget the tie is to -be red, and the first ride soon. I can't wait very long. Now I must go. -The Bird Woman will be ready to start, and she will come here hunting me -next, for she is busy today. What did I come here for anyway?” - -She glanced inquiringly around, and several of the men laughed. Oh, the -delight of it! She had forgotten her errand for him! Jack had a second -increase in height. The Angel glanced helplessly as if seeking a clue. -Then her eyes fell, as if by accident, on Freckles, and she cried, “Oh, -I know now! It was those magazines the Bird Woman promised you. I came -to tell you that we put them under the box where we hide things, at -the entrance to the swamp as we came in. I knew I would need my hands -crossing the swamp, so I hid them there. You'll find them at the same -old place.” - -Then Freckles spoke. - -“It's mighty risky for you to be crossing the swamp alone,” he said. -“I'm surprised that the Bird Woman would be letting you try it. I know -it's a little farther, but it's begging you I am to be going back by the -trail. That's bad enough, but it's far safer than the swamp.” - -The Angel laughed merrily. - -“Oh stop your nonsense!” she cried. “I'm not afraid! Not in the least! -The Bird Woman didn't want me to try following a path that I'd been over -only once, but I was sure I could do it, and I'm rather proud of the -performance. Now, don't go babying! You know I'm not afraid!” - -“No,” said Freckles gently, “I know you're not; but that has nothing to -do with the fact that your friends are afraid for you. On the trail you -can see your way a bit ahead, and you've all the world a better chance -if you meet a snake.” - -Then Freckles had an inspiration. He turned to Jack imploringly. - -“You tell her!” he pleaded. “Tell her to go by the trail. She will for -you.” - -The implication of this statement was so gratifying to Black Jack that -he seemed again to expand and take on increase before their very eyes. - -“You bet!” exclaimed Jack. And to the Angel: “You better take Freckles' -word for it, miss. He knows the old swamp better than any of us, except -me, and if he says 'go by the trail,' you'd best do it.” - -The Angel hesitated. She wanted to recross the swamp and try to reach -the horse. She knew Freckles would brave any danger to save her crossing -the swamp alone, but she really was not afraid, while the trail added -over a mile to the walk. She knew the path. She intended to run for dear -life the instant she felt herself from their sight, and tucked in the -folds of her blouse was a fine little 32-caliber revolver that her -father had presented her for her share in what he was pleased to call -her military exploit. One last glance at Freckles showed her the agony -in his eyes, and immediately she imagined he had some other reason. She -would follow the trail. - -“All right,” she said, giving Jack a thrilling glance. “If you say so, -I'll return by the trail to please you. Good-bye, everybody.” - -She lifted the bushes and started toward the entrance. - -“You damned fool! Stop her!” growled Wessner. “Keep her till we're -loaded, anyhow. You're playing hell! Can't you see that when this thing -is found out, there she'll be to ruin all of us. If you let her go, -every man of us has got to cut, and some of us will be caught sure.” - -Jack sprang forward. Freckles' heart muffled in his throat. The Angel -seemed to divine Jack's coming. She was humming a little song. She -deliberately stopped and began pulling the heads of the curious grasses -that grew all around her. When she straightened, she took a step -backward and called: “Ho! Freckles, the Bird Woman wants that natural -history pamphlet returned. It belongs to a set she is going to have -bound. That's one of the reasons we put it under the box. You be sure to -get them as you go home tonight, for fear it rains or becomes damp with -the heavy dews.” - -“All right,” said Freckles, but it was in a voice that he never had -heard before. - -Then the Angel turned and sent a parting glance at Jack. She was -overpoweringly human and bewitchingly lovely. - -“You won't forget that ride and the red tie,” she half asserted, half -questioned. - -Jack succumbed. Freckles was his captive, but he was the Angel's, soul -and body. His face wore the holiest look it ever had known as he softly -re-echoed Freckles' “All right.” With her head held well up, the Angel -walked slowly away, and Jack turned to the men. - -“Drop your damned staring and saw wood,” he shouted. “Don't you know -anything at all about how to treat a lady?” It might have been a -question which of the cronies that crouched over green wood fires in the -cabins of Wildcat Hollow, eternally sucking a corncob pipe and stirring -the endless kettles of stewing coon and opossum, had taught him to do -even as well as he had by the Angel. - -The men muttered and threatened among themselves, but they began working -desperately. Someone suggested that a man be sent to follow the Angel -and to watch her and the Bird Woman leave the swamp. Freckles' heart -sank within him, but Jack was in a delirium and past all caution. - -“Yes,” he sneered. “Mebby all of you had better give over on the saw and -run after the girl. I guess not! Seems to me I got the favors. I didn't -see no bouquets on the rest of you! If anybody follows her, I do, and -I'm needed here among such a pack of idiots. There's no danger in that -baby face. She wouldn't give me away! You double and work like forty, -while me and Wessner will take the axes and begin to cut in on the other -side.” - -“What about the noise?” asked Wessner. - -“No difference about the noise,” answered Jack. “She took us to be from -McLean's gang, slick as grease. Make the chips fly!” - -So all of them attacked the big tree. - -Freckles sat on one of his benches and waited. In their haste to fell -the tree and load it, so that the teamsters could start, and leave them -free to attack another, they had forgotten to rebind him. - -The Angel was on the trail and safely started. The cold perspiration -made Freckles' temples clammy and ran in little streams down his chest. -It would take her more time to follow the trail, but her safety was -Freckles' sole thought in urging her to go that way. He tried to figure -on how long it would require to walk to the carriage. He wondered if the -Bird Woman had unhitched. He followed the Angel every step of the way. -He figured on when she would cross the path of the clearing, pass the -deep pool where his “find-out” frog lived, cross Sleepy Snake Creek, and -reach the carriage. - -He wondered what she would say to the Bird Woman, and how long it would -take them to pack and start. He knew now that they would understand, and -the Angel would try to get the Boss there in time to save his wager. -She could never do it, for the saw was over half through, and Jack and -Wessner cutting into the opposite side of the tree. It appeared as if -they could fell at least that tree, before McLean could come, and if -they did he lost his wager. - -When it was down, would they rebind him and leave him for Wessner to -wreak his insane vengeance on, or would they take him along to the next -tree and dispose of him when they had stolen all the timber they could? -Jack had said that he should not be touched until he left. Surely he -would not run all that risk for one tree, when he had many others of far -greater value marked. Freckles felt that he had some hope to cling to -now, but he found himself praying that the Angel would hurry. - -Once Jack came to Freckles and asked if he had any water. Freckles arose -and showed him where he kept his drinking-water. Jack drank in great -gulps, and as he passed back the bucket, he said: “When a man's got a -chance of catching a fine girl like that, he ought not be mixed up in -any dirty business. I wish to God I was out of this!” - -Freckles answered heartily: “I wish I was, too!” - -Jack stared at him a minute and then broke into a roar of rough -laughter. - -“Blest if I blame you,” he said. “But you had your chance! We offered -you a fair thing and you gave Wessner his answer. I ain't envying you -when he gives you his.” - -“You're six to one,” answered Freckles. “It will be easy enough for you -to be killing the body of me, but, curse you all, you can't blacken me -soul!” - -“Well, I'd give anything you could name if I had your honesty,” said -Jack. - -When the mighty tree fell, the Limberlost shivered and screamed with the -echo. Freckles groaned in despair, but the gang took heart. That was -so much accomplished. They knew where to dispose of it safely, with -no questions asked. Before the day was over, they could remove three -others, all suitable for veneer and worth far more than this. Then they -would leave Freckles to Wessner and scatter for safety, with more money -than they had ever hoped for in their possession. - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -Wherein the Angel Releases Freckles, and the Curse of Black Jack Falls -upon Her - -On the line, the Angel gave one backward glance at Black Jack, to see -that he had returned to his work. Then she gathered her skirts above her -knees and leaped forward on the run. In the first three yards she passed -Freckles' wheel. Instantly she imagined that was why he had insisted on -her coming by the trail. She seized it and sprang on. The saddle was -too high, but she was an expert rider and could catch the pedals as -they came up. She stopped at Duncan's cabin long enough to remedy this, -telling Mrs. Duncan while working what was happening, and for her to -follow the east trail until she found the Bird Woman, and told her that -she had gone after McLean and for her to leave the swamp as quickly as -possible. - -Even with her fear for Freckles to spur her, Sarah Duncan blanched and -began shivering at the idea of facing the Limberlost. The Angel looked -her in the eyes. - -“No matter how afraid you are, you have to go,” she said. “If you don't -the Bird Woman will go to Freckles' room, hunting me, and they will have -trouble with her. If she isn't told to leave at once, they may follow -me, and, finding I'm gone, do some terrible thing to Freckles. I can't -go--that's flat--for if they caught me, then there'd be no one to go -for help. You don't suppose they are going to take out the trees they're -after and then leave Freckles to run and tell? They are going to murder -the boy; that's what they are going to do. You run, and run for life! -For Freckles' life! You can ride back with the Bird Woman.” - -The Angel saw Mrs. Duncan started; then began her race. - -Those awful miles of corduroy! Would they never end? She did not dare -use the wheel too roughly, for if it broke she never could arrive on -time afoot. Where her way was impassable for the wheel, she jumped off, -and pushing it beside her or carrying it, she ran as fast as she could. -The day was fearfully warm. The sun poured with the fierce baking heat -of August. The bushes claimed her hat, and she did not stop for it. - -Where it was at all possible, the Angel mounted and pounded over the -corduroy again. She was panting for breath and almost worn out when she -reached the level pike. She had no idea how long she had been--and only -two miles covered. She leaned over the bars, almost standing on the -pedals, racing with all the strength in her body. The blood surged in -her ears while her head swam, but she kept a straight course, and rode -and rode. It seemed to her that she was standing still, while the trees -and houses were racing past her. - -Once a farmer's big dog rushed angrily into the road and she swerved -until she almost fell, but she regained her balance, and setting her -muscles, pedaled as fast as she could. At last she lifted her head. -Surely it could not be over a mile more. She had covered two of corduroy -and at least three of gravel, and it was only six in all. - -She was reeling in the saddle, but she gripped the bars with new energy, -and raced desperately. The sun beat on her bare head and hands. Just -when she was choking with dust, and almost prostrate with heat and -exhaustion--crash, she ran into a broken bottle. Snap! went the tire; -the wheel swerved and pitched over. The Angel rolled into the thick -yellow dust of the road and lay quietly. - -From afar, Duncan began to notice a strange, dust-covered object in the -road, as he headed toward town with the first load of the day's felling. - -He chirruped to the bays and hurried them all he could. As he neared the -Angel, he saw it was a woman and a broken wheel. He was beside her in an -instant. He carried her to a shaded fence-corner, stretched her on -the grass, and wiped the dust from the lovely face all dirt-streaked, -crimson, and bearing a startling whiteness around the mouth and nose. - -Wheels were common enough. Many of the farmers' daughters owned and -rode them, but he knew these same farmers' daughters; this face was a -stranger's. He glanced at the Angel's tumbled clothing, the silkiness of -her hair, with its pale satin ribbon, and noticed that she had lost her -hat. Her lips tightened in an ominous quiver. He left her and picked -up the wheel: as he had surmised, he knew it. This, then, was Freckles' -Swamp Angel. There was trouble in the Limberlost, and she had broken -down racing to McLean. Duncan turned the bays into a fence-corner, tied -one of them, unharnessed the other, fastened up the trace chains, and -hurried to the nearest farmhouse to send help to the Angel. He found a -woman, who took a bottle of camphor, a jug of water, and some towels, -and started on the run. - -Then Duncan put the bay to speed and raced to camp. - -The Angel, left alone, lay still for a second, then she shivered and -opened her eyes. She saw that she was on the grass and the broken wheel -beside her. Instantly she realized that someone had carried her there -and gone after help. She sat up and looked around. She noticed the load -of logs and the one horse. Someone was riding after help for her! - -“Oh, poor Freckles!” she wailed. “They may be killing him by now. Oh, -how much time have I wasted?” - -She hurried to the other bay, her fingers flying as she set him free. -Snatching up a big blacksnake whip that lay on the ground, she caught -the hames, stretched along the horse's neck, and, for the first time, -the fine, big fellow felt on his back the quality of the lash that -Duncan was accustomed to crack over him. He was frightened, and ran at -top speed. - -The Angel passed a wildly waving, screaming woman on the road, and a -little later a man riding as if he, too, were in great haste. The man -called to her, but she only lay lower and used the whip. Soon the feet -of the man's horse sounded farther and farther away. - -At the South camp they were loading a second wagon, when the Angel -appeared riding one of Duncan's bays, lathered and dripping, and cried: -“Everybody go to Freckles! There are thieves stealing trees, and they -had him bound. They're going to kill him!” - -She wheeled the horse toward the Limberlost. The alarm sounded through -camp. The gang were not unprepared. McLean sprang to Nellie's back and -raced after the Angel. As they passed Duncan, he wheeled and followed. -Soon the pike was an irregular procession of barebacked riders, wildly -driving flying horses toward the swamp. - -The Boss rode neck-and-neck with the Angel. He repeatedly commanded her -to stop and fall out of line, until he remembered that he would need her -to lead him to Freckles. Then he gave up and rode beside her, for she -was sending the bay at as sharp a pace as the other horses could keep -and hold out. He could see that she was not hearing him. He glanced back -and saw that Duncan was close. There was something terrifying in the -appearance of the big man, and the manner in which he sat his beast and -rode. It would be a sad day for the man on whom Duncan's wrath broke. -There were four others close behind him, and the pike filling with the -remainder of the gang; so McLean took heart and raced beside the Angel. -Over and over he asked her where the trouble was, but she only gripped -the hames, leaned along the bay's neck, and slashed away with the -blacksnake. The steaming horse, with crimson nostrils and heaving sides, -stretched out and ran for home with all the speed there was in him. - -When they passed the cabin, the Bird Woman's carriage was there and Mrs. -Duncan in the door wringing her hands, but the Bird Woman was nowhere to -be seen. The Angel sent the bay along the path and turned into the west -trail, while the men bunched and followed her. When she reached the -entrance to Freckles' room, there were four men with her, and two more -very close behind. She slid from the horse, and snatching the little -revolver from her pocket, darted toward the bushes. McLean caught them -back, and with drawn weapon, pressed beside her. There they stopped in -astonishment. - -The Bird Woman blocked the entrance. Over a small limb lay her revolver. -It was trained at short range on Black Jack and Wessner, who stood with -their hands above their heads. - -Freckles, with the blood trickling down his face, from an ugly cut in -his temple, was gagged and bound to the tree again; the remainder of the -men were gone. Black Jack was raving as a maniac, and when they looked -closer it was only the left arm that he raised. His right, with the -hand shattered, hung helpless at his side, while his revolver lay -at Freckles' feet. Wessner's weapon was in his belt, and beside him -Freckles' club. - -Freckles' face was white, with colorless lips, but in his eyes was the -strength of undying courage. McLean pushed past the Bird Woman crying. -“Hold steady on them only one minute more!” - -He snatched the revolver from Wessner's belt, and stooped for Jack's. - -At that instant the Angel rushed past. She tore the gag from Freckles, -and seizing the rope knotted on his chest, she tugged at it desperately. -Under her fingers it gave way, and she hurled it to McLean. The men were -crowding in, and Duncan seized Wessner. As the Angel saw Freckles stand -out, free, she reached her arms to him and pitched forward. A fearful -oath burst from the lips of Black Jack. To have saved his life, Freckles -could not have avoided the glance of triumph he gave Jack, when folding -the Angel in his arms and stretching her on the mosses. - -The Bird Woman cried out sharply for water as she ran to them. Someone -sprang to bring that, and another to break open the case for brandy. -As McLean arose from binding Wessner, there was a cry that Jack was -escaping. - -He was already far in the swamp, running for its densest part in leaping -bounds. Every man who could be spared plunged after him. - -Other members of the gang arriving, were sent to follow the tracks -of the wagons. The teamsters had driven from the west entrance, and -crossing the swale, had taken the same route the Bird Woman and the -Angel had before them. There had been ample time for the drivers to -reach the road; after that they could take any one of four directions. -Traffic was heavy, and lumber wagons were passing almost constantly, -so the men turned back and joined the more exciting hunt for a man. -The remainder of the gang joined them, also farmers of the region and -travelers attracted by the disturbance. - -Watchers were set along the trail at short intervals. They patrolled the -line and roads through the swamp that night, with lighted torches, and -the next day McLean headed as thorough a search as he felt could be made -of one side, while Duncan covered the other; but Black Jack could not be -found. Spies were set around his home, in Wildcat Hollow, to ascertain -if he reached there or aid was being sent in any direction to him; but -it was soon clear that his relatives were ignorant of his hiding-place, -and were searching for him. - -Great is the elasticity of youth. A hot bath and a sound night's sleep -renewed Freckles' strength, and it needed but little more to work the -same result with the Angel. Freckles was on the trail early the next -morning. Besides a crowd of people anxious to witness Jack's capture, -he found four stalwart guards, one at each turn. In his heart he was -compelled to admit that he was glad to have them there. Close noon, -McLean placed his men in charge of Duncan, and taking Freckles, drove to -town to see how the Angel fared. McLean visited a greenhouse and bought -an armload of its finest products; but Freckles would have none of them. -He would carry his message in a glowing mass of the Limberlost's first -goldenrod. - -The Bird Woman received them, and in answer to their eager inquiries, -said that the Angel was in no way seriously injured, only so bruised -and shaken that their doctor had ordered her to lie quietly for the day. -Though she was sore and stiff, they were having work to keep her in bed. -Her callers sent up their flowers with their grateful regards, and the -Angel promptly returned word that she wanted to see them. - -She reached both hands to McLean. “What if one old tree is gone? You -don't care, sir? You feel that Freckles has kept his trust as nobody -ever did before, don't you? You won't forget all those long first days -of fright that you told us of, the fearful cold of winter, the rain, -heat, and lonesomeness, and the brave days, and lately, nights, too, and -let him feel that his trust is broken? Oh, Mr. McLean,” she begged, -“say something to him! Do something to make him feel that it isn't for -nothing he has watched and suffered it out with that old Limberlost. -Make him see how great and fine it is, and how far, far better he has -done than you or any of us expected! What's one old tree, anyway?” she -cried passionately. - -“I was thinking before you came. Those other men were rank big cowards. -They were scared for their lives. If they were the drivers, I wager you -gloves against gloves they never took those logs out to the pike. My -coming upset them. Before you feel bad any more, you go look and see if -they didn't lose courage the minute they left Wessner and Black Jack, -dump that timber and run. I don't believe they ever had the grit to -drive out with it in daylight. Go see if they didn't figure on leaving -the way we did the other morning, and you'll find the logs before you -reach the road. They never risked taking them into the open, when they -got away and had time to think. Of course they didn't! - -“And, then, another thing. You haven't lost your wager! It never will -be claimed, because you made it with a stout, dark, red-faced man who -drives a bay and a gray. He was right back of you, Mr. McLean, when I -came yesterday. He went deathly white and shook on his feet when he saw -those men probably would be caught. Some one of them was something to -him, and you can just spot him for one of the men at the bottom of your -troubles, and urging those younger fellows to steal from you. I suppose -he'd promised to divide. You settle with him, and that business will -stop.” - -She turned to Freckles. “And you be the happiest man alive, because you -have kept your trust. Go look where I tell you and you'll find the logs. -I can see just about where they are. When they go up that steep little -hill, into the next woods after the cornfield, why, they could unloose -the chains and the logs would roll from the wagons themselves. Now, you -go look; and Mr. McLean, you do feel that Freckles has been brave and -faithful? You won't love him any the less even if you don't find the -logs.” - -The Angel's nerve gave way and she began to cry. Freckles could not -endure it. He almost ran from the room, with the tears in his eyes; but -McLean took the Angel from the Bird Woman's arms, and kissed her brave -little face, stroked her hair, and petted her into quietness before he -left. - -As they drove to the swamp, McLean so earnestly seconded all that the -Angel had said that he soon had the boy feeling much better. - -“Freckles, your Angel has a spice of the devil in her, but she's superb! -You needn't spend any time questioning or bewailing anything she does. -Just worship blindly, my boy. By heaven! she's sense, courage, and -beauty for half a dozen girls,” said McLean. - -“It's altogether right you are, sir,” affirmed Freckles heartily. -Presently he added, “There's no question but the series is over now.” - -“Don't think it!” answered McLean. “The Bird Woman is working for -success, and success along any line is not won by being scared out. She -will be back on the usual day, and ten to one, the Angel will be with -her. They are made of pretty stern stuff, and they don't scare worth -a cent. Before I left, I told the Bird Woman it would be safe; and it -will. You may do your usual walking, but those four guards are there to -remain. They are under your orders absolutely. They are prohibited from -firing on any bird or molesting anything that you want to protect, but -there they remain, and this time it is useless for you to say one word. -I have listened to your pride too long. You are too precious to me, and -that voice of yours is too precious to the world to run any more risks.” - -“I am sorry to have anything spoil the series,” said Freckles, “and I'd -love them to be coming, the Angel especial, but it can't be. You'll have -to tell them so. You see, Jack would have been ready to stake his life -she meant what she said and did to him. When the teams pulled out, -Wessner seized me; then he and Jack went to quarreling over whether they -should finish me then or take me to the next tree they were for felling. -Between them they were pulling me around and hurting me bad. Wessner -wanted to get at me right then, and Jack said he shouldn't be touching -me till the last tree was out and all the rest of them gone. I'm -belaying Jack really hated to see me done for in the beginning; and -I think, too, he was afraid if Wessner finished me then he'd lose his -nerve and cut, and they couldn't be managing the felling without him; -anyway, they were hauling me round like I was already past all feeling, -and they tied me up again. To keep me courage up, I twits Wessner about -having to tie me and needing another man to help handle me. I told him -what I'd do to him if I was free, and he grabs up me own club and lays -open me head with it. When the blood came streaming, it set Jack raving, -and he cursed and damned Wessner for a coward and a softy. Then Wessner -turned on Jack and gives it to him for letting the Angel make a fool of -him. Tells him she was just playing with him, and beyond all manner of -doubt she'd gone after you, and there was nothing to do on account of -his foolishness but finish me, get out, and let the rest of the timber -go, for likely you was on the way right then. That drove Jack plum -crazy. - -“I don't think he was for having a doubt of the Angel before, but then -he just raved. He grabbed out his gun and turned on Wessner. Spang! It -went out of his fist, and the order comes: 'Hands up!' Wessner reached -for kingdom come like he was expecting to grab hold and pull himself -up. Jack puts up what he has left. Then he leans over to me and tells me -what he'll do to me if he ever gets out of there alive. Then, just like -a snake hissing, he spits out what he'll do to her for playing him. He -did get away, and with his strength, that wound in his hand won't be -bothering him long. He'll do to me just what he said, and when he hears -it really was she that went after you, why, he'll keep his oath about -her. - -“He's lived in the swamp all his life, sir, and everybody says it's -always been the home of cutthroats, outlaws, and runaways. He knows its -most secret places as none of the others. He's alive. He's in there now, -sir. Some way he'll keep alive. If you'd seen his face, all scarlet with -passion, twisted with pain, and black with hate, and heard him swearing -that oath, you'd know it was a sure thing. I ain't done with him yet, -and I've brought this awful thing on her.” - -“And I haven't begun with him yet,” said McLean, setting his teeth. -“I've been away too slow and too easy, believing there'd be no greater -harm than the loss of a tree. I've sent for a couple of first-class -detectives. We will put them on his track, and rout him out and rid the -country of him. I don't propose for him to stop either our work or our -pleasure. As for his being in the swamp now, I don't believe it. He'd -find a way out last night, in spite of us. Don't you worry! I am at the -helm now, and I'll see to that gentleman in my own way.” - -“I wish to my soul you had seen and heard him!” said Freckles, -unconvinced. - -They entered the swamp, taking the route followed by the Bird Woman and -the Angel. They really did find the logs, almost where the Angel had -predicted they would be. McLean went to the South camp and had an -interview with Crowen that completely convinced him that the Angel -was correct there also. But he had no proof, so all he could do was to -discharge the man, although his guilt was so apparent that he offered to -withdraw the wager. - -Then McLean sent for a pack of bloodhounds and put them on the trail of -Black Jack. They clung to it, on and on, into the depths of the swamp, -leading their followers through what had been considered impassable and -impenetrable ways, and finally, around near the west entrance and into -the swale. Here the dogs bellowed, raved, and fell over each other in -their excitement. They raced back and forth from swamp to swale, but -follow the scent farther they would not, even though cruelly driven. At -last their owner attributed their actions to snakes, and as they were -very valuable dogs, abandoned the effort to urge them on. So that all -they really established was the fact that Black Jack had eluded their -vigilance and crossed the trail some time in the night. He had escaped -to the swale; from there he probably crossed the corduroy, and reaching -the lower end of the swamp, had found friends. It was a great relief to -feel that he was not in the swamp, and it raised the spirits of every -man on the line, though many of them expressed regrets that he who -was undoubtedly most to blame should escape, while Wessner, who in the -beginning was only his tool, should be left to punishment. - -But for Freckles, with Jack's fearful oath ringing in his ears, there -was neither rest nor peace. He was almost ill when the day for the next -study of the series arrived and he saw the Bird Woman and the Angel -coming down the corduroy. The guards of the east line he left at their -customary places, but those of the west he brought over and placed, one -near Little Chicken's tree, and the other at the carriage. He was firm -about the Angel's remaining in the carriage, that he did not offer to -have unhitched. He went with the Bird Woman to secure the picture, -which was the easiest matter it had been at any time yet, for the simple -reason that the placing of the guards and the unusual movement around -the swamp had made Mr. and Mrs. Chicken timid, and they had not carried -Little Chicken the customary amount of food. Freckles, in the anxiety of -the past few days, had neglected him, and he had been so hungry, much -of the time, that when the Bird Woman held up a sweet-bread, although -he had started toward the recesses of the log at her coming, he stopped; -with slightly opened beak, he waited anxiously for the treat, and gave a -study of great value, showing every point of his head, also his wing and -tail development. - -When the Bird Woman proposed to look for other subjects close about the -line, Freckles went so far as to tell her that Jack had made fearful -threats against the Angel. He implored her to take the Angel home and -keep her under unceasing guard until Jack was located. He wanted to -tell her all about it, but he knew how dear the Angel was to her, and he -dreaded to burden her with his fears when they might prove groundless. -He allowed her to go, but afterward blamed himself severely for having -done so. - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -Wherein Freckles Nurses a Heartache and Black Jack Drops Out - -“McLean,” said Mrs. Duncan, as the Boss paused to greet her in passing -the cabin, “do you know that Freckles hasna been in bed the past five -nights and all he's eaten in that many days ye could pack into a pint -cup?” - -“Why, what does the boy mean?” demanded McLean. “There's no necessity -for him being on guard, with the watch I've set on the line. I had no -idea he was staying down there.” - -“He's no there,” said Mrs. Duncan. “He goes somewhere else. He leaves -on his wheel juist after we're abed and rides in close cock-crow or a -little earlier, and he's looking like death and nothing short of it.” - -“But where does he go?” asked McLean in astonishment. - -“I'm no given to bearing tales out of school,” said Sarah Duncan, “but -in this case I'd tell ye if I could. What the trouble is I dinna ken. If -it is no' stopped, he's in for dreadful sickness, and I thought ye could -find out and help him. He's in sair trouble; that's all I know.” - -McLean sat brooding as he stroked Nellie's neck. - -At last he said: “I suspect I understand. At any rate, I think I can -find out. Thank you for telling me.” - -“Ye'll no need telling, once ye clap your eyes on him,” prophesied -Mrs. Duncan. “His face is all a glist'ny yellow, and he's peaked as a -starving caged bird.” - -McLean rode to the Limberlost, and stopping in the shade, sat waiting -for Freckles, whose hour for passing the foot of the lease had come. - -Along the north line came Freckles, fairly staggering. When he turned -east and reached Sleepy Snake Creek, sliding through the swale as the -long black snake for which it was named, he sat on the bridge and closed -his burning eyes, but they would not remain shut. As if pulled by wires, -the heavy lids flew open, while the outraged nerves and muscles of his -body danced, twitched, and tingled. - -He bent forward and idly watched the limpid little stream flowing -beneath his feet. Stretching into the swale, it came creeping between -an impenetrable wall of magnificent wild flowers, vines, and ferns. -Milkweed, goldenrod, ironwort, fringed gentians, cardinal-flowers, and -turtle-head stood on the very edge of the creek, and every flower of -them had a double in the water. Wild clematis crowned with snow the -heads of trees scattered here and there on the bank. - -From afar the creek appeared to be murky, dirty water. Really it was -clear and sparkling. The tinge of blackness was gained from its bed of -muck showing through the transparent current. He could see small and -wonderfully marked fish. What became of them when the creek spread into -the swamp? For one thing, they would make mighty fine eating for the -family of that self-satisfied old blue heron. - -Freckles sat so quietly that soon the brim of his hat was covered with -snake-feeders, rasping their crisp wings and singing while they rested. -Some of them settled on the club, and one on his shoulder. He was so -motionless; feathers, fur, and gauze were so accustomed to him, that -all through the swale they continued their daily life and forgot he was -there. - -The heron family were wading the mouth of the creek. Freckles idly -wondered whether the nerve-racking rasps they occasionally emitted -indicated domestic felicity or a raging quarrel. He could not decide. A -sheitpoke, with flaring crest, went stalking across a bare space -close to the creek's mouth. A stately brown bittern waded into the -clear-flowing water, lifting his feet high at every step, and setting -them down carefully, as if he dreaded wetting them, and with slightly -parted beak, stood eagerly watching around him for worms. Behind him -were some mighty trees of the swamp above, and below the bank glowed a -solid wall of goldenrod. - -No wonder the ancients had chosen yellow as the color to represent -victory, for the fierce, conquering hue of the sun was in it. They had -done well, too, in selecting purple as the emblem of royalty. It was a -dignified, compelling color, while in its warm tone there was a hint of -blood. - -It was the Limberlost's hour to proclaim her sovereignty and triumph. -Everywhere she flaunted her yellow banner and trailed the purple of her -mantle, that was paler in the thistle-heads, took on strength in the -first opening asters, and glowed and burned in the ironwort. - -He gazed into her damp, mossy recesses where high-piled riven trees -decayed under coats of living green, where dainty vines swayed and -clambered, and here and there a yellow leaf, fluttering down, presaged -the coming of winter. His love of the swamp laid hold of him and shook -him with its force. - -Compellingly beautiful was the Limberlost, but cruel withal; for inside -bleached the uncoffined bones of her victims, while she had missed -cradling him, oh! so narrowly. - -He shifted restlessly; the movement sent the snake-feeders skimming. The -hum of life swelled and roared in his strained ears. Small turtles, that -had climbed on a log to sun, splashed clumsily into the water. Somewhere -in the timber of the bridge a bloodthirsty little frog cried sharply. -“KEEL'IM! KEEL'IM!” - -Freckles muttered: “It's worse than that Black Jack swore to do to me, -little fellow.” - -A muskrat waddled down the bank and swam for the swamp, its pointed nose -riffling the water into a shining trail in its wake. - -Then, below the turtle-log, a dripping silver-gray head, with shining -eyes, was cautiously lifted, and Freckles' hand slid to his revolver. -Higher and higher came the head, a long, heavy, furcoated body arose, -now half, now three-fourths from the water. Freckles looked at his -shaking hand and doubted, but he gathered his forces, the shot rang, and -the otter lay quiet. He hurried down and tried to lift it. He scarcely -could muster strength to carry it to the bridge. The consciousness that -he really could go no farther with it made Freckles realize the fact -that he was close the limit of human endurance. He could bear it little, -if any, longer. Every hour the dear face of the Angel wavered before -him, and behind it the awful distorted image of Black Jack, as he had -sworn to the punishment he would mete out to her. He must either see -McLean, or else make a trip to town and find her father. Which should -he do? He was almost a stranger, so the Angel's father might not be -impressed with what he said as he would if McLean went to him. Then he -remembered that McLean had said he would come that morning. Freckles -never had forgotten before. He hurried on the east trail as fast as his -tottering legs would carry him. - -He stopped when he came to the first guard, and telling him of his luck, -asked him to get the otter and carry it to the cabin, as he was anxious -to meet McLean. - -Freckles passed the second guard without seeing him, and hurried to the -Boss. He took off his hat, wiped his forehead, and stood silent under -the eyes of McLean. - -The Boss was dumbfounded. Mrs. Duncan had led him to expect that he -would find a change in Freckles, but this was almost deathly. The fact -was apparent that the boy scarcely knew what he was doing. His eyes had -a glazed, far-sighted appearance, that wrung the heart of the man who -loved him. Without a thought of preliminaries, McLean leaned in the -saddle and drew Freckles to him. - -“My poor lad!” he said. “My poor, dear lad! tell me, and we will try to -right it!” - -Freckles had twisted his fingers in Nellie's mane. At the kind words his -face dropped on McLean's thigh and he shook with a nervous chill. McLean -gathered him closer and waited. - -When the guard came with the otter, McLean without a word motioned him -to lay it down and leave them. - -“Freckles,” said McLean at last, “will you tell me, or must I set to -work in the dark and try to find the trouble?” - -“Oh, I want to tell you! I must tell you, sir,” shuddered Freckles. -“I cannot be bearing it the day out alone. I was coming to you when I -remimbered you would be here.” - -He lifted his face and gazed across the swale, with his jaws set firmly -a minute, as if gathering his forces. Then he spoke. - -“It's the Angel, sir,” he said. - -Instinctively McLean's grip on him tightened, and Freckles looked into -the Boss's face in wonder. - -“I tried, the other day,” said Freckles, “and I couldn't seem to make -you see. It's only that there hasn't been an hour, waking or sleeping, -since the day she parted the bushes and looked into me room, that the -face of her hasn't been before me in all the tinderness, beauty, and -mischief of it. She talked to me friendly like. She trusted me entirely -to take right care of her. She helped me with things about me books. She -traited me like I was born a gintleman, and shared with me as if I were -of her own blood. She walked the streets of the town with me before her -friends with all the pride of a queen. She forgot herself and didn't -mind the Bird Woman, and run big risks to help me out that first day, -sir. This last time she walked into that gang of murderers, took their -leader, and twisted him to the will of her. She outdone him and raced -the life almost out of her trying to save me. - -“Since I can remimber, whatever the thing was that happened to me in the -beginning has been me curse. I've been bitter, hard, and smarting under -it hopelessly. She came by, and found me voice, and put hope of life and -success like other men into me in spite of it.” - -Freckles held up his maimed arm. - -“Look at it, sir!” he said. “A thousand times I've cursed it, hanging -there helpless. She took it on the street, before all the people, just -as if she didn't see that it was a thing to hide and shrink from. Again -and again I've had the feeling with her, if I didn't entirely forget it, -that she didn't see it was gone and I must he pointing it out to her. -Her touch on it was so sacred-like, at times since I've caught meself -looking at the awful thing near like I was proud of it, sir. If I had -been born your son she couldn't be traiting me more as her equal, and -she can't help knowing you ain't truly me father. Nobody can know the -homeliness or the ignorance of me better than I do, and all me lack of -birth, relatives, and money, and what's it all to her?” - -Freckles stepped back, squared his shoulders, and with a royal lift of -his head looked straight into the Boss's eyes. - -“You saw her in the beautiful little room of her, and you can't be -forgetting how she begged and plead with you for me. She touched me -body, and 'twas sanctified. She laid her lips on my brow, and 'twas -sacrament. Nobody knows the height of her better than me. Nobody's -studied my depths closer. There's no bridge for the great distance -between us, sir, and clearest of all, I'm for realizing it: but she -risked terrible things when she came to me among that gang of thieves. -She wore herself past bearing to save me from such an easy thing as -death! Now, here's me, a man, a big, strong man, and letting her live -under that fearful oath, so worse than any death 'twould be for her, and -lifting not a finger to save her. I cannot hear it, sir. It's killing me -by inches! Black Jack's hand may not have been hurt so bad. Any hour he -may be creeping up behind her! Any minute the awful revenge he swore -to be taking may in some way fall on her, and I haven't even warned her -father. I can't stay here doing nothing another hour. The five nights -gone I've watched under her windows, but there's the whole of the day. -She's her own horse and little cart, and's free to be driving through -the town and country as she pleases. If any evil comes to her through -Black Jack, it comes from her angel-like goodness to me. Somewhere he's -hiding! Somewhere he is waiting his chance! Somewhere he is reaching out -for her! I tell you I cannot, I dare not be bearing it longer!” - -“Freckles, be quiet!” said McLean, his eyes humid and his voice -quivering with the pity of it all. “Believe me, I did not understand. -I know the Angel's father well. I will go to him at once. I have -transacted business with him for the past three years. I will make him -see! I am only beginning to realize your agony, and the real danger -there is for the Angel. Believe me, I will see that she is fully -protected every hour of the day and night until Jack is located and -disposed of. And I promise you further, that if I fail to move her -father or make him understand the danger, I will maintain a guard over -her until Jack is caught. Now will you go bathe, drink some milk, go to -bed, and sleep for hours, and then be my brave, bright old boy again?” - -“Yis,” said Freckles simply. - -But McLean could see the flesh was twitching on the lad's bones. - -“What was it the guard brought there?” McLean asked in an effort to -distract Freckles' thoughts. - -“Oh!” Freckles said, glancing where the Boss pointed, “I forgot it! 'Tis -an otter, and fine past believing, for this warm weather. I shot it at -the creek this morning. 'Twas a good shot, considering. I expected to -miss.” - -Freckles picked up the animal and started toward McLean with it, but -Nellie pricked up her dainty little ears, danced into the swale, and -snorted with fright. Freckles dropped the otter and ran to her head. - -“For pity's sake, get her on the trail, sir,” he begged. “She's just -about where the old king rattler crosses to go into the swamp--the old -buster Duncan and I have been telling you of. I haven't a doubt but it -was the one Mother Duncan met. 'Twas down the trail there, just a little -farther on, that I found her, and it's sure to be close yet.” - -McLean slid from Nellie's back, led her into the trail farther down the -line, and tied her to a bush. Then he went to examine the otter. It was -a rare, big specimen, with exquisitely fine, long, silky hair. - -“What do you want to do with it, Freckles?” asked McLean, as he stroked -the soft fur lingeringly. “Do you know that it is very valuable?” - -“I was for almost praying so, sir,” said Freckles. “As I saw it coming -up the bank I thought this: Once somewhere in a book there was a picture -of a young girl, and she was just a breath like the beautifulness of the -Angel. Her hands were in a muff as big as her body, and I thought it -was so pretty. I think she was some queen, or the like. Do you suppose -I could have this skin tanned and made into such a muff as that?--an -enormous big one, sir?” - -“Of course you can,” said McLean. “That's a fine idea and it's easy -enough. We must box and express the otter, cold storage, by the first -train. You stand guard a minute and I'll tell Hall to carry it to the -cabin. I'll put Nellie to Duncan's rig, and we'll drive to town and call -on the Angel's father. Then we'll start the otter while it is fresh, and -I'll write your instructions later. It would be a mighty fine thing for -you to give to the Angel as a little reminder of the Limberlost before -it is despoiled, and as a souvenir of her trip for you.” - -Freckles lifted a face with a glow of happy color creeping into it and -eyes lighting with a former brightness. Throwing his arms around McLean, -he cried: “Oh, how I love you! Oh, I wish I could make you know how I -love you!” - -McLean strained him to his breast. - -“God bless you, Freckles,” he said. “I do know! We're going to have some -good old times out of this world together, and we can't begin too soon. -Would you rather sleep first, or have a bite of lunch, take the drive -with me, and then rest? I don't know but sleep will come sooner and -deeper to take the ride and have your mind set at ease before you lie -down. Suppose you go.” - -“Suppose I do,” said Freckles, with a glimmer of the old light in his -eyes and newly found strength to shoulder the otter. Together they -turned into the trail. - -McLean noticed and spoke of the big black chickens. - -“They've been hanging round out there for several days past,” said -Freckles. “I'll tell you what I think it means. I think the old rattler -has killed something too big for him to swallow, and he's keeping guard -and won't let me chickens have it. I'm just sure, from the way the birds -have acted out there all summer, that it is the rattler's den. You watch -them now. See the way they dip and then rise, frightened like!” - -Suddenly McLean turned toward him with blanching face - -“Freckles!” he cried. - -“My God, sir!” shuddered Freckles. - -He dropped the otter, caught up his club, and plunged into the swale. -Reaching for his revolver, McLean followed. The chickens circled higher -at their coming, and the big snake lifted his head and rattled angrily. -It sank in sinuous coils at the report of McLean's revolver, and -together he and Freckles stood beside Black Jack. His fate was evident -and most horrible. - -“Come,” said the Boss at last. “We don't dare touch him. We will get -a sheet from Mrs. Duncan and tuck over him, to keep these swarms of -insects away, and set Hall on guard, while we find the officers.” - -Freckles' lips closed resolutely. He deliberately thrust his club under -Black Jack's body, and, raising him, rested it on his knee. He pulled -a long silver pin from the front of the dead man's shirt and sent it -spinning into the swale. Then he gathered up a few crumpled bright -flowers and dropped them into the pool far away. - -“My soul is sick with the horror of this thing,” said McLean, as he -and Freckles drove toward town. “I can't understand how Jack dared risk -creeping through the swale, even in desperation. No one knew its dangers -better than he. And why did he choose the rankest, muckiest place to -cross the swamp?” - -“Don't you think, sir, it was because it was on a line with the -Limberlost south of the corduroy? The grass was tallest there, and he -counted on those willows to screen him. Once he got among them, he would -have been safe to walk by stooping. If he'd made it past that place, -he'd been sure to get out.” - -“Well, I'm as sorry for Jack as I know how to be,” said McLean, “but -I can't help feeling relieved that our troubles are over, for now they -are. With so dreadful a punishment for Jack, Wessner under arrest, and -warrants for the others, we can count on their going away and remaining. -As for anyone else, I don't think they will care to attempt stealing -my timber after the experience of these men. There is no other man here -with Jack's fine ability in woodcraft. He was an expert.” - -“Did you ever hear of anyone who ever tried to locate any trees -excepting him?” asked Freckles. - -“No, I never did,” said McLean. “I am sure there was no one besides -him. You see, it was only with the arrival of our company that the other -fellows scented good stuff in the Limberlost, and tried to work in. Jack -knew the swamp better than anyone here. When he found there were two -companies trying to lease, he wanted to stand in with the one from which -he could realize the most. Even then he had trees marked that he was -trying to dispose of. I think his sole intention in forcing me to -discharge him from my gang was to come here and try to steal timber. We -had no idea, when we took the lease, what a gold mine it was.” - -“That's exactly what Wessner said that first day,” said Freckles -eagerly. “That 'twas a 'gold mine'! He said he didn't know where the -marked trees were, but he knew a man who did, and if I would hold off -and let them get the marked ones, there were a dozen they could get out -in a few days.” - -“Freckles!” cried McLean. “You don't mean a dozen!” - -“That's what he said, sir--a dozen. He said they couldn't tell how the -grain of all of them would work up, of course, but they were all worth -taking out, and five or six were real gold mines. This makes three -they've tried, so there must be nine more marked, and several of them -for being just fine.” - -“Well, I wish I knew which they are,” said McLean, “so I could get them -out first.” - -“I have been thinking,” said Freckles. “I believe if you will leave one -of the guards on the line--say Hall--that I will begin on the swamp, -at the north end, and lay it off in sections, and try to hunt out the -marked trees. I suppose they are all marked something like that first -maple on the line was. Wessner mentioned another good one not so far -from that. He said it was best of all. I'd be having the swelled head if -I could find that. Of course, I don't know a thing about the trees, but -I could hunt for the marks. Jack was so good at it he could tell some of -them by the bark, but all he wanted to take that we've found so far have -just had a deep chip cut out, rather low down, and where the bushes were -thick over it. I believe I could be finding some of them.” - -“Good head!” said McLean. “We will do that. You may begin as soon as you -are rested. And about things you come across in the swamp, Freckles--the -most trifling little thing that you think the Bird Woman would want, -take your wheel and go after her at any time. I'll leave two men on the -line, so that you will have one on either side, and you can come and go -as you please. Have you stopped to think of all we owe her, my boy?” - -“Yis; and the Angel--we owe her a lot, too,” said Freckles. “I owe her -me life and honor. It's lying awake nights I'll have to be trying to -think how I'm ever to pay her up.” - -“Well, begin with the muff,” suggested McLean. “That should be fine.” - -He bent down and ruffled the rich fur of the otter lying at his feet. - -“I don't exactly see how it comes to be in such splendid fur in summer. -Their coats are always thick in cold weather, but this scarcely could -be improved. I'll wire Cooper to be watching for it. They must have it -fresh. When it's tanned we won't spare any expense in making it up. It -should be a royal thing, and some way I think it will exactly suit the -Angel. I can't think of anything that would be more appropriate for -her.” - -“Neither can I,” agreed Freckles heartily. “When I reach the city -there's one other thing, if I've the money after the muff is finished.” - -He told McLean of Mrs. Duncan's desire for a hat similar to the Angel's. -He hesitated a little in the telling, keeping sharp watch on McLean's -face. When he saw the Boss's eyes were full of comprehension and -sympathy, he loved him anew, for, as ever, McLean was quick to -understand. Instead of laughing, he said: “I think you'll have to let -me in on that, too. You mustn't be selfish, you know. I'll tell you what -we'll do. Send it for Christmas. I'll be home then, and we can fill a -box. You get the hat. I'll add a dress and wrap. You buy Duncan a hat -and gloves. I'll send him a big overcoat, and we'll put in a lot of -little stuff for the babies. Won't that be fun?” - -Freckles fairly shivered with delight. - -“That would be away too serious for fun,” he said. “That would be -heavenly. How long will it be?” - -He began counting the time, and McLean deliberately set himself to -encourage Freckles and keep his thoughts from the trouble of the past -few days, for he had been overwrought and needed quiet and rest. - - - -CHAPTER XV - -Wherein Freckles and the Angel Try Taking a Picture, and Little Chicken -Furnishes the Subject - -A week later everything at the Limberlost was precisely as it had been -before the tragedy, except the case in Freckles' room now rested on the -stump of the newly felled tree. Enough of the vines were left to cover -it prettily, and every vestige of the havoc of a few days before was -gone. New guards were patrolling the trail. Freckles was roughly laying -off the swamp in sections and searching for marked trees. In that time -he had found one deeply chipped and the chip cunningly replaced and -tacked in. It promised to be quite rare, so he was jubilant. He also -found so many subjects for the Bird Woman that her coming was of almost -daily occurrence, and the hours he spent with her and the Angel were -nothing less than golden. - -The Limberlost was now arrayed as the Queen of Sheba in all her glory. -The first frosts of autumn had bejewelled her crown in flashing topaz, -ruby, and emerald. Around her feet trailed the purple of her garments, -while in her hand was her golden scepter. Everything was at full tide. -It seemed as if nothing could grow lovelier, and it was all standing -still a few weeks, waiting coming destruction. - -The swamp was palpitant with life. Every pair of birds that had flocked -to it in the spring was now multiplied by from two to ten. The young -were tame from Freckles' tri-parenthood, and so plump and sleek that -they were quite as beautiful as their elders, even if in many cases -they lacked their brilliant plumage. It was the same story of increase -everywhere. There were chubby little ground-hogs scudding on the trail. -There were cunning baby coons and opossums peeping from hollow logs and -trees. Young muskrats followed their parents across the lagoons. - -If you could come upon a family of foxes that had not yet disbanded, and -see the young playing with a wild duck's carcass that their mother had -brought, and note the pride and satisfaction in her eyes as she lay -at one side guarding them, it would be a picture not to be forgotten. -Freckles never tired of studying the devotion of a fox mother to her -babies. To him, whose early life had been so embittered by continual -proof of neglect and cruelty in human parents toward their children, the -love of these furred and feathered folk of the Limberlost was even more -of a miracle than to the Bird Woman and the Angel. - -The Angel liked the baby rabbits and squirrels. Earlier in the season, -when the young were yet very small, it so happened that at times -Freckles could give into her hands one of these little ones. Then it was -pure joy to stand back and watch her heaving breast, flushed cheek, and -shining eyes. Hers were such lovely eyes. Freckles had discovered lately -that they were not so dark as he had thought them at first, but that -the length and thickness of lash, by which they were shaded, made them -appear darker than they really were. They were forever changing. Now -sparkling and darkling with wit, now humid with sympathy, now burning -with the fire of courage, now taking on strength of color with ambition, -now flashing indignantly at the abuse of any creature. - -She had carried several of the squirrel and bunny babies home, and had -littered the conservatory with them. Her care of them was perfect. She -was learning her natural history from nature, and having much healthful -exercise. To her, they were the most interesting of all, but the -Bird Woman preferred the birds, with a close second in the moths and -butterflies. - -Brown butterfly time had come. The edge of the swale was filled with -milkweed, and other plants beloved of them, and the air was golden with -the flashing satin wings of the monarch, viceroy, and argynnis. They -outnumbered those of any other color three to one. - -Among the birds it really seemed as if the little yellow fellows were -in the preponderance. At least, they were until the redwinged blackbirds -and bobolinks, that had nested on the upland, suddenly saw in the -swamp the garden of the Lord and came swarming by hundreds to feast and -adventure upon it these last few weeks before migration. Never was there -a finer feast spread for the birds. The grasses were filled with seeds: -so, too, were weeds of every variety. Fall berries were ripe. Wild -grapes and black haws were ready. Bugs were creeping everywhere. The -muck was yeasty with worms. Insects filled the air. Nature made glorious -pause for holiday before her next change, and by none of the frequenters -of the swamp was this more appreciated than by the big black chickens. - -They seemed to feel the new reign of peace and fullness most of all. As -for food, they did not even have to hunt for themselves these days, -for the feasts now being spread before Little Chicken were more than he -could use, and he was glad to have his parents come down and help him. - -He was a fine, big, overgrown fellow, and his wings, with quills of -jetty black, gleaming with bronze, were so strong they almost lifted his -body. He had three inches of tail, and his beak and claws were sharp. -His muscles began to clamor for exercise. He raced the forty feet of his -home back and forth many times every hour of the day. After a few days -of that, he began lifting and spreading his wings, and flopping them -until the down on his back was filled with elm fiber. Then he commenced -jumping. The funny little hops, springs, and sidewise bounds he gave -set Freckles and the Angel, hidden in the swamp, watching him, into -smothered chuckles of delight. - -Sometimes he fell to coquetting with himself; and that was the funniest -thing of all, for he turned his head up, down, from side to side, and -drew in his chin with prinky little jerks and tilts. He would stretch -his neck, throw up his head, turn it to one side and smirk--actually -smirk, the most complacent and self-satisfied smirk that anyone ever -saw on the face of a bird. It was so comical that Freckles and the Angel -told the Bird Woman of it one day. - -When she finished her work on Little Chicken, she left them the camera -ready for use, telling them they might hide in the bushes and watch. If -Little Chicken came out and truly smirked, and they could squeeze the -bulb at the proper moment to snap him, she would be more than delighted. - -Freckles and the Angel quietly curled beside a big log, and with eager -eyes and softest breathing they patiently waited; but Little Chicken had -feasted before they told of his latest accomplishment. He was tired -and sleepy, so he went into the log to bed, and for an hour he never -stirred. - -They were becoming anxious, for the light soon would be gone, and they -had so wanted to try for the picture. At last Little Chicken lifted his -head, opened his beak, and gaped widely. He dozed a minute or two more. -The Angel said that was his beauty sleep. Then he lazily gaped again -and stood up, stretching and yawning. He ambled leisurely toward the -gateway, and the Angel said: “Now, we may have a chance, at last.” - -“I do hope so,” shivered Freckles. - -With one accord they arose to their knees and trained their eyes on -the mouth of the log. The light was full and strong. Little Chicken -prospected again with no results. He dressed his plumage, polished his -beak, and when he felt fine and in full toilet he began to flirt with -himself. Freckles' eyes snapped and his breath sucked between his -clenched teeth. - -“He's going to do it!” whispered the Angel. “That will come next. You'll -best give me that bulb!” - -“Yis,” assented Freckles, but he was looking at the log and he made no -move to relinquish the bulb. - -Little Chicken nodded daintily and ruffled his feathers. He gave his -head sundry little sidewise jerks and rapidly shifted his point of -vision. Once there was the fleeting little ghost of a smirk. - -“Now!--No!” snapped the Angel. - -Freckles leaned toward the bird. Tensely he waited. Unconsciously the -hand of the Angel clasped his. He scarcely knew it was there. Suddenly -Little Chicken sprang straight in the air and landed with a thud. The -Angel started slightly, but Freckles was immovable. Then, as if in -approval of his last performance, the big, overgrown baby wheeled until -he was more than three-quarters, almost full side, toward the camera, -straightened on his legs, squared his shoulders, stretched his neck full -height, drew in his chin and smirked his most pronounced smirk, directly -in the face of the lens. - -Freckles' fingers closed on the bulb convulsively, and the Angel's -closed on his at the instant. Then she heaved a great sigh of relief and -lifted her hands to push back the damp, clustering hair from her face. - -“How soon do you s'pose it will be finished?” came Freckles' strident -whisper. - -For the first time the Angel looked at him. He was on his knees, leaning -forward, his eyes directed toward the bird, the perspiration running in -little streams down his red, mosquito-bitten face. His hat was awry, his -bright hair rampant, his breast heaving with excitement, while he yet -gripped the bulb with every ounce of strength in his body. - -“Do you think we were for getting it?” he asked. - -The Angel could only nod. Freckles heaved a deep sigh of relief. - -“Well, if that ain't the hardest work I ever did in me life!” he -exclaimed. “It's no wonder the Bird Woman's for coming out of the swamp -looking as if she's been through a fire, a flood, and a famine, if -that's what she goes through day after day. But if you think we got it, -why, it's worth all it took, and I'm glad as ever you are, sure!” - -They put the holders in the case, carefully closed the camera, set it in -also, and carried it to the road. - -Then Freckles exulted. - -“Now, let's be telling the Bird Woman about it!” he shouted, wildly -dancing and swinging his hat. - -“We got it! We got it! I bet a farm we got it!” - -Hand in hand they ran to the north end of the swamp, yelling “We got -it!” like young Comanches, and never gave a thought to what they might -do until a big blue-gray bird, with long neck and trailing legs, arose -on flapping wings and sailed over the Limberlost. - -The Angel became white to the lips and gripped Freckles with both hands. -He gulped with mortification and turned his back. - -To frighten her subject away carelessly! It was the head crime in the -Bird Woman's category. She extended her hands as she arose, baked, -blistered, and dripping, and exclaimed: “Bless you, my children! Bless -you!” And it truly sounded as if she meant it. - -“Why, why----” stammered the bewildered Angel. - -Freckles hurried into the breach. - -“You must be for blaming it every bit on me. I was thinking we got -Little Chicken's picture real good. I was so drunk with the joy of it I -lost all me senses and, 'Let's run tell the Bird Woman,' says I. Like a -fool I was for running, and I sort of dragged the Angel along.” - -“Oh Freckles!” expostulated the Angel. “Are you loony? Of course, it -was all my fault! I've been with her hundreds of times. I knew perfectly -well that I wasn't to let anything--NOT ANYTHING--scare her bird away! -I was so crazy I forgot. The blame is all mine, and she'll never forgive -me.” - -“She will, too!” cried Freckles. “Wasn't you for telling me that very -first day that when people scared her birds away she just killed them! -It's all me foolishness, and I'll never forgive meself!” - -The Bird Woman plunged into the swale at the mouth of Sleepy Snake -Creek, and came wading toward them, with a couple of cameras and -dripping tripods. - -“If you will permit me a word, my infants,” she said, “I will explain to -you that I have had three shots at that fellow.” - -The Angel heaved a deep sigh of relief, and Freckles' face cleared a -little. - -“Two of them,” continued the Bird Woman, “in the rushes--one facing, -crest lowered; one light on back, crest flared; and the last on wing, -when you came up. I simply had been praying for something to make him -arise from that side, so that he would fly toward the camera, for he had -waded around until in my position I couldn't do it myself. See? Behold -in yourselves the answer to the prayers of the long-suffering!” - -Freckles took a step toward her. - -“Are you really meaning that?” he asked wonderingly. “Only think, -Angel, we did the right thing! She won't lose her picture through the -carelessness of us, when she's waited and soaked nearly two hours. She's -not angry with us!” - -“Never was in a sweeter temper in my life,” said the Bird Woman, busily -cleaning and packing the cameras. - -Freckles removed his hat and solemnly held out his hand. With equal -solemnity the Angel grasped it. The Bird Woman laughed alone, for to -them the situation had been too serious to develop any of the elements -of fun. - -Then they loaded the carriage, and the Bird Woman and the Angel started -for their homes. It had been a difficult time for all of them, so they -were very tired, but they were joyful. Freckles was so happy it seemed -to him that life could hold little more. As the Bird Woman was ready to -drive away he laid his hand on the lines and looked into her face. - -“Do you suppose we got it?” he asked, so eagerly that she would have -given much to be able to say yes with conviction. - -“Why, my dear, I don't know,” she said. “I've no way to judge. If you -made the exposure just before you came to me, there was yet a fine -light. If you waited until Little Chicken was close the entrance, you -should have something good, even if you didn't catch just the fleeting -expression for which you hoped. Of course, I can't say surely, but I -think there is every reason to believe that you have it all right. I -will develop the plate tonight, make you a proof from it early in the -morning, and bring it when we come. It's only a question of a day or -two now until the gang arrives. I want to work in all the studies I can -before that time, for they are bound to disturb the birds. Mr. McLean -will need you then, and I scarcely see how we are to do without you.” - -Moved by an impulse she never afterward regretted, she bent and laid her -lips on Freckles' forehead, kissing him gently and thanking him for his -many kindnesses to her in her loved work. Freckles started away so happy -that he felt inclined to keep watching behind to see if the trail were -not curling up and rolling down the line after him. - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -Wherein the Angel Locates a Rare Tree and Dines with the Gang - -From afar Freckles saw them coming. The Angel was standing, waving her -hat. He sprang on his wheel and raced, jolting and pounding, down the -corduroy to meet them. The Bird Woman stopped the horse and the Angel -gave him the bit of print paper. Freckles leaned the wheel against a -tree and took the proof with eager fingers. He never before had seen -a study from any of his chickens. He stood staring. When he turned his -face toward them it was transfigured with delight. - -“You see!” he exclaimed, and began gazing again. “Oh, me Little -Chicken!” he cried. “Oh me ilegant Little Chicken! I'd be giving all me -money in the bank for you!” - -Then he thought of the Angel's muff and Mrs. Duncan's hat, and added, -“or at least, all but what I'm needing bad for something else. Would you -mind stopping at the cabin a minute and showing this to Mother Duncan?” - he asked. - -“Give me that little book in your pocket,” said the Bird Woman. - -She folded the outer edges of the proof so that it would fit into the -book, explaining as she did so its perishable nature in that state. -Freckles went hurrying ahead, and they arrived in time to see Mrs. -Duncan gazing as if awestruck, and to hear her bewildered “Weel I be -drawed on!” - -Freckles and the Angel helped the Bird Woman to establish herself for a -long day at the mouth of Sleepy Snake Creek. Then she sent them away and -waited what luck would bring to her. - -“Now, what shall we do?” inquired the Angel, who was a bundle of nerves -and energy. - -“Would you like to go to me room awhile?” asked Freckles. - -“If you don't care to very much, I'd rather not,” said the Angel. “I'll -tell you. Let's go help Mrs. Duncan with dinner and play with the baby. -I love a nice, clean baby.” - -They started toward the cabin. Every few minutes they stopped to -investigate something or to chatter over some natural history wonder. -The Angel had quick eyes; she seemed to see everything, but Freckles' -were even quicker; for life itself had depended on their sharpness ever -since the beginning of his work at the swamp. They saw it at the same -time. - -“Someone has been making a flagpole,” said the Angel, running the toe of -her shoe around the stump, evidently made that season. “Freckles, what -would anyone cut a tree as small as that for?” - -“I don't know,” said Freckles. - -“Well, but I want to know!” said the Angel. “No one came away here and -cut it for fun. They've taken it away. Let's go back and see if we can -see it anywhere around there.” - -She turned, retraced her footsteps, and began eagerly searching. -Freckles did the same. - -“There it is!” he exclaimed at last, “leaning against the trunk of that -big maple.” - -“Yes, and leaning there has killed a patch of dried bark,” said the -Angel. “See how dried it appears?” - -Freckles stared at her. - -“Angel!” he shouted, “I bet you it's a marked tree!” - -“Course it is!” cried the Angel. “No one would cut that sapling and -carry it away there and lean it up for nothing. I'll tell you! This is -one of Jack's marked trees. He's climbed up there above anyone's head, -peeled the bark, and cut into the grain enough to be sure. Then he's -laid the bark back and fastened it with that pole to mark it. You see, -there're a lot of other big maples close around it. Can you climb to -that place?” - -“Yes,” said Freckles; “if I take off my wading-boots I can.” - -“Then take them off,” said the Angel, “and do hurry! Can't you see that -I am almost crazy to know if this tree is a marked one?” - -When they pushed the sapling over, a piece of bark as big as the crown -of Freckles' hat fell away. - -“I believe it looks kind of nubby,” encouraged the Angel, backing away, -with her face all screwed into a twist in an effort to intensify her -vision. - -Freckles reached the opening, then slid rapidly to the ground. He was -almost breathless while his eyes were flashing. - -“The bark's been cut clean with a knife, the sap scraped away, and a big -chip taken out deep. The trunk is the twistiest thing you ever saw. It's -full of eyes as a bird is of feathers!” - -The Angel was dancing and shaking his hand. - -“Oh, Freckles,” she cried, “I'm so delighted that you found it!” - -“But I didn't,” said the astonished Freckles. “That tree isn't my find; -it's yours. I forgot it and was going on; you wouldn't give up, and kept -talking about it, and turned back. You found it!” - -“You'd best be looking after your reputation for truth and veracity,” - said the Angel. “You know you saw that sapling first!” - -“Yes, after you took me back and set me looking for it,” scoffed -Freckles. - -The clear, ringing echo of strongly swung axes came crashing through the -Limberlost. - -“'Tis the gang!” shouted Freckles. “They're clearing a place to make the -camp. Let's go help!” - -“Hadn't we better mark that tree again?” cautioned the Angel. “It's away -in here. There's such a lot of them, and all so much alike. We'd feel -good and green to find it and then lose it.” - -Freckles lifted the sapling to replace it, but the Angel motioned him -away. - -“Use your hatchet,” she said. “I predict this is the most valuable tree -in the swamp. You found it. I'm going to play that you're my knight. -Now, you nail my colors on it.” - -She reached up, and pulling a blue bow from her hair, untied and doubled -it against the tree. Freckles turned his eyes from her and managed the -fastening with shaking fingers. The Angel had called him her knight! -Dear Lord, how he loved her! She must not see his face, or surely her -quick eyes would read what he was fighting to hide. He did not dare lay -his lips on that ribbon then, but that night he would return to it. When -they had gone a little distance, they both looked back, and the morning -breeze set the bit of blue waving them a farewell. - -They walked at a rapid pace. - -“I am sorry about scaring the birds,” said the Angel, “but it's almost -time for them to go anyway. I feel dreadfully over having the swamp -ruined, but isn't it a delight to hear the good, honest ring of those -axes, instead of straining your ears for stealthy sounds? Isn't it -fine to go openly and freely, with nothing worse than a snake or a -poison-vine to fear?” - -“Ah!” said Freckles, with a long breath, “it's better than you can -dream, Angel. Nobody will ever be guessing some of the things I've been -through trying to keep me promise to the Boss, and to hold out until -this day. That it's come with only one fresh stump, and the log from -that saved, and this new tree to report, isn't it grand? Maybe Mr. -McLean will be forgetting that stump when he sees this tree, Angel!” - -“He can't forget it,” said the Angel; and in answer to Freckles' -startled eyes she added, “because he never had any reason to remember -it. He couldn't have done a whit better himself. My father says so. -You're all right, Freckles!” - -She reached him her hand, and as two children, they broke into a run -when they came closer the gang. They left the swamp by the west road -and followed the trail until they found the men. To the Angel it seemed -complete charm. In the shadiest spot on the west side of the line, at -the edge of the swamp and very close Freckles' room, they were -cutting bushes and clearing space for a big tent for the men's -sleeping-quarters, another for a dining-hall, and a board shack for the -cook. The teamsters were unloading, the horses were cropping leaves from -the bushes, while each man was doing his part toward the construction of -the new Limberlost quarters. - -Freckles helped the Angel climb on a wagonload of canvas in the shade. -She removed her leggings, wiped her heated face, and glowed with -happiness and interest. - -The gang had been sifted carefully. McLean now felt that there was not a -man in it who was not trustworthy. - -They all had heard of the Angel's plucky ride for Freckles' relief; -several of them had been in the rescue party. Others, new since that -time, had heard the tale rehearsed in its every aspect around the -smudge-fires at night. Almost all of them knew the Angel by sight from -her trips with the Bird Woman to their leases. They all knew her father, -her position, and the luxuries of her home. Whatever course she had -chosen with them they scarcely would have resented it, but the Angel -never had been known to choose a course. Her spirit of friendliness was -inborn and inbred. She loved everyone, so she sympathized with everyone. -Her generosity was only limited by what was in her power to give. - -She came down the trail, hand in hand with the red-haired, freckled -timber guard whom she had worn herself past the limit of endurance to -save only a few weeks before, racing in her eagerness to reach them, -and laughing her “Good morning, gentlemen,” right and left. When she was -ensconced on the wagonload of tenting, she sat on a roll of canvas as a -queen on her throne. There was not a man of the gang who did not respect -her. She was a living exponent of universal brotherhood. There was no -man among them who needed her exquisite face or dainty clothing to teach -him that the deference due a gentlewoman should be paid her. That the -spirit of good fellowship she radiated levied an especial tribute of its -own, and it became their delight to honor and please her. - -As they raced toward the wagon--“Let me tell about the tree, please?” - she begged Freckles. - -“Why, sure!” said Freckles. - -He probably would have said the same to anything she suggested. When -McLean came, he found the Angel flushed and glowing, sitting on the -wagon, her hands already filled. One of the men, who was cutting a -scrub-oak, had carried to her a handful of crimson leaves. Another had -gathered a bunch of delicate marsh-grass heads for her. Someone else, -in taking out a bush, had found a daintily built and lined little nest, -fresh as when made. - -She held up her treasures and greeted McLean, “Good morning, Mr. Boss of -the Limberlost!” - -The gang shouted, while he bowed profoundly before her. - -“Everyone listen!” cried the Angel, climbing a roll of canvas. “I have -something to say! Freckles has been guarding here over a year now, and -he presents the Limberlost to you, with every tree in it saved; for good -measure he has this morning located the rarest one of them all: the one -in from the east line, that Wessner spoke of the first day--nearest the -one you took out. All together! Everyone! Hurrah for Freckles!” - -With flushing cheeks and gleaming eyes, gaily waving the grass above -her head, she led in three cheers and a tiger. Freckles slipped into the -swamp and hid himself, for fear he could not conceal his pride and his -great surging, throbbing love for her. - -The Angel subsided on the canvas and explained to McLean about the -maple. The Boss was mightily pleased. He took Freckles and set out to -re-locate and examine the tree. The Angel was interested in the making -of the camp, so she preferred to remain with the men. With her sharp -eyes she was watching every detail of construction; but when it came to -the stretching of the dining-hall canvas she proceeded to take command. -The men were driving the rope-pins, when the Angel arose on the wagon -and, leaning forward, spoke to Duncan, who was directing the work. - -“I believe if you will swing that around a few feet farther, you will -find it better, Mr. Duncan,” she said. “That way will let the hot sun in -at noon, while the sides will cut off the best breeze.” - -“That's a fact,” said Duncan, studying the conditions. - -So, by shifting the pins a little, they obtained comfort for which they -blessed the Angel every day. When they came to the sleeping-tent, they -consulted her about that. She explained the general direction of the -night breeze and indicated the best position for the tent. Before anyone -knew how it happened, the Angel was standing on the wagon, directing -the location and construction of the cooking-shack, the erection of the -crane for the big boiling-pots, and the building of the store-room. She -superintended the laying of the floor of the sleeping-tent lengthwise, -So that it would be easier to sweep, and suggested a new arrangement of -the cots that would afford all the men an equal share of night breeze. -She left the wagon, and climbing on the newly erected dining-table, -advised with the cook in placing his stove, table, and kitchen utensils. - -When Freckles returned from the tree to join in the work around the -camp, he caught glimpses of her enthroned on a soapbox, cleaning beans. -She called to him that they were invited for dinner, and that they had -accepted the invitation. - -When the beans were steaming in the pot, the Angel advised the cook to -soak them overnight the next time, so that they would cook more quickly -and not burst. She was sure their cook at home did that way, and the -CHEF of the gang thought it would be a good idea. The next Freckles saw -of her she was paring potatoes. A little later she arranged the table. - -She swept it with a broom, instead of laying a cloth; took the hatchet -and hammered the deepest dents from the tin plates, and nearly skinned -her fingers scouring the tinware with rushes. She set the plates an even -distance apart, and laid the forks and spoons beside them. When the cook -threw away half a dozen fruit-cans, she gathered them up and melted off -the tops, although she almost blistered her face and quite blistered her -fingers doing it. Then she neatly covered these improvised vases with -the Manila paper from the groceries, tying it with wisps of marshgrass. -These she filled with fringed gentians, blazing-star, asters, goldenrod, -and ferns, placing them the length of the dining-table. In one of the -end cans she arranged her red leaves, and in the other the fancy grass. -Two men, watching her, went away proud of themselves and said that she -was “a born lady.” She laughingly caught up a paper bag and fitted it -jauntily to her head in imitation of a cook's cap. Then she ground the -coffee, and beat a couple of eggs to put in, “because there is company,” - she gravely explained to the cook. She asked that delighted individual -if he did not like it best that way, and he said he did not know, -because he never had a chance to taste it. The Angel said that was -her case exactly--she never had, either; she was not allowed anything -stronger than milk. Then they laughed together. - -She told the cook about camping with her father, and explained that -he made his coffee that way. When the steam began to rise from the big -boiler, she stuffed the spout tightly with clean marshgrass, to keep the -aroma in, placed the boiler where it would only simmer, and explained -why. The influence of the Angel's visit lingered with the cook through -the remainder of his life, while the men prayed for her frequent return. - -She was having a happy time, when McLean came back jubilant, from his -trip to the tree. How jubilant he told only the Angel, for he had been -obliged to lose faith in some trusted men of late, and had learned -discretion by what he suffered. He planned to begin clearing out a road -to the tree that same afternoon, and to set two guards every night, for -it promised to be a rare treasure, so he was eager to see it on the way -to the mills. - -“I am coming to see it felled,” cried the Angel. “I feel a sort of -motherly interest in that tree.” - -McLean was highly amused. He would have staked his life on the honesty -of either the Angel or Freckles; yet their versions of the finding of -the tree differed widely. - -“Tell me, Angel,” the Boss said jestingly. “I think I have a right to -know. Who really did locate that tree?” - -“Freckles,” she answered promptly and emphatically. - -“But he says quite as positively that it was you. I don't understand.” - -The Angel's legal look flashed into her face. Her eyes grew tense with -earnestness. She glanced around, and seeing no towel or basin, held out -her hand for Sears to pour water over them. Then, using the skirt of her -dress to dry them, she climbed on the wagon. - -“I'll tell you, word for word, how it happened,” she said, “and then you -shall decide, and Freckles and I will agree with you.” - -When she had finished her version, “Tell us, 'oh, most learned judge!'” - she laughingly quoted, “which of us located that tree?” - -“Blest if I know who located it!” exclaimed McLean. “But I have a fairly -accurate idea as to who put the blue ribbon on it.” - -The Boss smiled significantly at Freckles, who just had come, for they -had planned that they would instruct the company to reserve enough of -the veneer from that very tree to make the most beautiful dressing table -they could design for the Angel's share of the discovery. - -“What will you have for yours?” McLean had asked of Freckles. - -“If it's all the same to you, I'll be taking mine out in music -lessons--begging your pardon--voice culture,” said Freckles with a -grimace. - -McLean laughed, for Freckles needed to see or hear only once to absorb -learning as the thirsty earth sucks up water. - -The Angel placed McLean at the head of the table. She took the foot, -with Freckles on her right, while the lumber gang, washed, brushed, and -straightened until they felt unfamiliar with themselves and each other, -filled the sides. That imposed a slight constraint. Then, too, the men -were afraid of the flowers, the polished tableware, and above all, of -the dainty grace of the Angel. Nowhere do men so display lack of good -breeding and culture as in dining. To sprawl on the table, scoop -with their knives, chew loudly, gulp coffee, and duck their heads as -snapping-turtles for every bite, had not been noticed by them until the -Angel, sitting straightly, suddenly made them remember that they, -too, were possessed of spines. Instinctively every man at the table -straightened. - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -Wherein Freckles Offers His Life for His Love and Gets a Broken Body - -To reach the tree was a more difficult task than McLean had supposed. -The gang could approach nearest on the outside toward the east, but -after they reached the end of the east entrance there was yet a mile -of most impenetrable thicket, trees big and little, and bushes of every -variety and stage of growth. In many places the muck had to be filled to -give the horses and wagons a solid foundation over which to haul heavy -loads. It was several days before they completed a road to the noble, -big tree and were ready to fell it. - -When the sawing began, Freckles was watching down the road where it met -the trail leading from Little Chicken's tree. He had gone to the tree -ahead of the gang to remove the blue ribbon. Carefully folded, it now -lay over his heart. He was promising himself much comfort with that -ribbon, when he would leave for the city next month to begin his studies -and dream the summer over again. It would help to make things tangible. -When he was dressed as other men, and at his work, he knew where he -meant to home that precious bit of blue. It should be his good-luck -token, and he would wear it always to keep bright in memory the day on -which the Angel had called him her knight. - -How he would study, and oh, how he would sing! If only he could fulfill -McLean's expectations, and make the Angel proud of him! If only he could -be a real knight! - -He could not understand why the Angel had failed to come. She had wanted -to see their tree felled. She would be too late if she did not arrive -soon. He had told her it would be ready that morning, and she had said -she surely would be there. Why, of all mornings, was she late on this? - -McLean had ridden to town. If he had been there, Freckles would have -asked that they delay the felling, but he scarcely liked to ask the -gang. He really had no authority, although he thought the men would -wait; but some way he found such embarrassment in framing the request -that he waited until the work was practically ended. The saw was out, -and the men were cutting into the felling side of the tree when the Boss -rode in. - -His first word was to inquire for the Angel. When Freckles said she -had not yet come, the Boss at once gave orders to stop work on the tree -until she arrived; for he felt that she virtually had located it, and -if she desired to see it felled, she should. As the men stepped back, -a stiff morning breeze caught the top, that towered high above its -fellows. There was an ominous grinding at the base, a shiver of the -mighty trunk, then directly in line of its fall the bushes swung apart -and the laughing face of the Angel looked on them. - -A groan of horror burst from the dry throats of the men, and reading the -agony in their faces, she stopped short, glanced up, and understood. - -“South!” shouted McLean. “Run south!” - -The Angel was helpless. It was apparent that she did not know which way -south was. There was another slow shiver of the big tree. The remainder -of the gang stood motionless, but Freckles sprang past the trunk and -went leaping in big bounds. He caught up the Angel and dashed through -the thicket for safety. The swaying trunk was half over when, for an -instant, a near-by tree stayed its fall. They saw Freckles' foot catch, -and with the Angel he plunged headlong. - -A terrible cry broke from the men, while McLean covered his face. -Instantly Freckles was up, with the Angel in his arms, struggling on. -The outer limbs were on them when they saw Freckles hurl the Angel, -face down, in the muck, as far from him as he could send her. Springing -after, in an attempt to cover her body with his own, he whirled to see -if they were yet in danger, and with outstretched arms braced himself -for the shock. The branches shut them from sight, and the awful crash -rocked the earth. - -McLean and Duncan ran with axes and saws. The remainder of the gang -followed, and they worked desperately. It seemed a long time before they -caught a glimpse of the Angel's blue dress, but it renewed their vigor. -Duncan fell on his knees beside her and tore the muck from underneath -her with his hands. In a few seconds he dragged her out, choking and -stunned, but surely not fatally hurt. - -Freckles lay a little farther under the tree, a big limb pinning him -down. His eyes were wide open. He was perfectly conscious. Duncan began -mining beneath him, but Freckles stopped him. - -“You can't be moving me,” he said. “You must cut off the limb and lift -it. I know.” - -Two men ran for the big saw. A number of them laid hold of the limb and -bore up. In a short time it was removed, and Freckles lay free. - -The men bent over to lift him, but he motioned them away. - -“Don't be touching me until I rest a bit,” he pleaded. - -Then he twisted his head until he saw the Angel, who was wiping muck -from her eyes and face on the skirt of her dress. - -“Try to get up,” he begged. - -McLean laid hold of the Angel and helped her to her feet. - -“Do you think any bones are broken?” gasped Freckles. - -The Angel shook her head and wiped muck. - -“You see if you can find any, sir,” Freckles commanded. - -The Angel yielded herself to McLean's touch, and he assured Freckles -that she was not seriously injured. - -Freckles settled back, a smile of ineffable tenderness on his face. - -“Thank the Lord!” he hoarsely whispered. - -The Angel leaned toward him. - -“Now, Freckles, you!” she cried. “It's your turn. Please get up!” - -A pitiful spasm swept Freckles' face. The sight of it washed every -vestige of color from the Angel's. She took hold of his hands. - -“Freckles, get up!” It was half command, half entreaty. - -“Easy, Angel, easy! Let me rest a bit first!” implored Freckles. - -She knelt beside him. He reached his arm around her and drew her -closely. He looked at McLean in an agony of entreaty that brought the -Boss to his knees on the other side. - -“Oh, Freckles!” McLean cried. “Not that! Surely we can do something! We -must! Let me see!” - -He tried to unfasten Freckles' neckband, but his fingers shook so -clumsily that the Angel pushed them away and herself laid Freckles' -chest bare. With one hasty glance she gathered the clothing together -and slipped her arm under his head. Freckles lifted his eyes of agony to -hers. - -“You see?” he said. - -The Angel nodded dumbly. - -Freckles turned to McLean. - -“Thank you for everything,” he panted. “Where are the boys?” - -“They are all here,” said the Boss, “except a couple who have gone for -doctors, Mrs. Duncan and the Bird Woman.” - -“It's no use trying to do anything,” said Freckles. “You won't forget -the muff and the Christmas box. The muff especial?” - -There was a movement above them so pronounced that it attracted -Freckles' attention, even in that extreme hour. He looked up, and a -pleased smile flickered on his drawn face. - -“Why, if it ain't me Little Chicken!” he cried hoarsely. “He must be -making his very first trip from the log. Now Duncan can have his big -watering-trough.” - -“It was Little Chicken that made me late,” faltered the Angel. “I was -so anxious to get here early I forgot to bring his breakfast from the -carriage. He must have been hungry, for when I passed the log he started -after me. He was so wabbly, and so slow flying from tree to tree and -through the bushes, I just had to wait on him, for I couldn't drive him -back.” - -“Of course you couldn't! Me bird has too amazing good sinse to go back -when he could be following you,” exulted Freckles, exactly as if he did -not realize what the delay had cost him. Then he lay silently thinking, -but presently he asked slowly: “And so 'twas me Little Chicken that was -making you late, Angel?” - -“Yes,” said the Angel. - -A spasm of fierce pain shook Freckles, and a look of uncertainty crossed -his face. - -“All summer I've been thanking God for the falling of the feather and -all the delights it's brought me,” he muttered, “but this looks as -if----” - -He stopped short and raised questioning eyes to McLean. - -“I can't help being Irish, but I can help being superstitious,” he said. -“I mustn't be laying it to the Almighty, or to me bird, must I?” - -“No, dear lad,” said McLean, stroking the brilliant hair. “The choice -lay with you. You could have stood a rooted dolt like all the remainder -of us. It was through your great love and your high courage that you -made the sacrifice.” - -“Don't you be so naming it, sir!” cried Freckles. “It's just the -reverse. If I could be giving me body the hundred times over to save -hers from this, I'd be doing it and take joy with every pain.” - -He turned with a smile of adoring tenderness to the Angel. She was -ghastly white, and her eyes were dull and glazed. She scarcely seemed to -hear or understand what was coming, but she bravely tried to answer that -smile. - -“Is my forehead covered with dirt?” he asked. - -She shook her head. - -“You did once,” he gasped. - -Instantly she laid her lips on his forehead, then on each cheek, and -then in a long kiss on his lips. - -McLean bent over him. - -“Freckles,” he said brokenly, “you will never know how I love you. You -won't go without saying good-bye to me?” - -That word stung the Angel to quick comprehension. She started as if -arousing from sleep. - -“Good-bye?” she cried sharply, her eyes widening and the color rushing -into her white face. “Good-bye! Why, what do you mean? Who's saying -good-bye? Where could Freckles go, when he is hurt like this, save to -the hospital? You needn't say good-bye for that. Of course, we will all -go with him! You call up the men. We must start right away.” - -“It's no use, Angel,” said Freckles. “I'm thinking ivry bone in me -breast is smashed. You'll have to be letting me go!” - -“I will not,” said the Angel flatly. “It's no use wasting precious time -talking about it. You are alive. You are breathing; and no matter how -badly your bones are broken, what are great surgeons for but to fix you -up and make you well again? You promise me that you'll just grit your -teeth and hang on when we hurt you, for we must start with you as -quickly as it can be done. I don't know what has been the matter with -me. Here's good time wasted already.” - -“Oh, Angel!” moaned Freckles, “I can't! You don't know how bad it is. -I'll die the minute you are for trying to lift me!” - -“Of course you will, if you make up your mind to do it,” said the Angel. -“But if you are determined you won't, and set yourself to breathing deep -and strong, and hang on to me tight, I can get you out. Really you must, -Freckles, no matter how it hurts, for you did this for me, and now I -must save you, so you might as well promise.” - -She bent over him, trying to smile encouragement with her fear-stiffened -lips. - -“You will promise, Freckles?” - -Big drops of cold sweat ran together on Freckles' temples. - -“Angel, darlin' Angel,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “You ain't -understanding, and I can't for the life of me be telling you, but -indade, it's best to be letting me go. This is my chance. Please say -good-bye, and let me slip off quick!” - -He appealed to McLean. - -“Dear Boss, you know! You be telling her that, for me, living is far -worse pain than dying. Tell her you know death is the best thing that -could ever be happening to me!” - -“Merciful Heaven!” burst in the Angel. “I can't endure this delay!” - -She caught Freckles' hand to her breast, and bending over him, looked -deeply into his stricken eyes. - -“'Angel, I give you my word of honor that I will keep right on -breathing.' That's what you are going to promise me,” she said. “Do you -say it?” - -Freckles hesitated. - -“Freckles!” imploringly commanded the Angel, “YOU DO SAY IT!” - -“Yis,” gasped Freckles. - -The Angel sprang to her feet. - -“Then that's all right,” she said, with a tinge of her old-time -briskness. “You just keep breathing away like a steam engine, and I will -do all the remainder.” - -The eager men gathered around her. - -“It's going to be a tough pull to get Freckles out,” she said, “but it's -our only chance, so listen closely and don't for the lives of you fail -me in doing quickly what I tell you. There's no time to spend falling -down over each other; we must have some system. You four there get on -those wagon horses and ride to the sleeping-tent. Get the stoutest cot, -a couple of comforts, and a pillow. Ride back with them some way to -save time. If you meet any other men of the gang, send them here to help -carry the cot. We won't risk the jolt of driving with him. The others -clear a path out to the road; and Mr. McLean, you take Nellie and ride -to town. Tell my father how Freckles is hurt and that he risked it to -save me. Tell him I'm going to take Freckles to Chicago on the noon -train, and I want him to hold it if we are a little late. If he can't, -then have a special ready at the station and another on the Pittsburgh -at Fort Wayne, so we can go straight through. You needn't mind leaving -us. The Bird Woman will be here soon. We will rest awhile.” - -She dropped into the muck beside Freckles and began stroking his hair -and hand. He lay with his face of agony turned to hers, and fought to -smother the groans that would tell her what he was suffering. - -When they stood ready to lift him, the Angel bent over him in a passion -of tenderness. - -“Dear old Limberlost guard, we're going to lift you now,” she said. “I -suspect you will faint from the pain of it, but we will be as easy as -ever we can, and don't you dare forget your promise!” - -A whimsical half-smile touched Freckles' quivering lips. - -“Angel, can a man be remembering a promise when he ain't knowing?” he -asked. - -“You can,” said the Angel stoutly, “because a promise means so much more -to you than it does to most men.” - -A look of strength flashed into Freckles' face at her words. - -“I am ready,” he said. - -With the first touch his eyes closed, a mighty groan was wrenched from -him, and he lay senseless. The Angel gave Duncan one panic-stricken -look. Then she set her lips and gathered her forces again. - -“I guess that's a good thing,” she said. “Maybe he won't feel how we are -hurting him. Oh boys, are you being quick and gentle?” - -She stepped to the side of the cot and bathed Freckles' face. Taking his -hand in hers, she gave the word to start. She told the men to ask every -able-bodied man they met to join them so that they could change carriers -often and make good time. - -The Bird Woman insisted upon taking the Angel into the carriage and -following the cot, but she refused to leave Freckles, and suggested -that the Bird Woman drive ahead, pack them some clothing, and be at the -station ready to accompany them to Chicago. All the way the Angel walked -beside the cot, shading Freckles' face with a branch, and holding his -hand. At every pause to change carriers she moistened his face and lips -and watched each breath with heart-breaking anxiety. - -She scarcely knew when her father joined them, and taking the branch -from her, slipped an arm around her waist and almost carried her. To the -city streets and the swarm of curious, staring faces she paid no more -attention than she had to the trees of the Limberlost. When the train -came and the gang placed Freckles aboard, big Duncan made a place for -the Angel beside the cot. - -With the best physician to be found, and with the Bird Woman and -McLean in attendance, the four-hours' run to Chicago began. The Angel -constantly watched over Freckles; bathed his face, stroked his hand, -and gently fanned him. Not for an instant would she yield her place, -or allow anyone else to do anything for him. The Bird Woman and McLean -regarded her in amazement. There seemed to be no end to her resources -and courage. The only time she spoke was to ask McLean if he were sure -the special would be ready on the Pittsburgh road. He replied that it -was made up and waiting. - -At five o'clock Freckles lay stretched on the operating-table of Lake -View Hospital, while three of the greatest surgeons in Chicago bent over -him. At their command, McLean picked up the unwilling Angel and carried -her to the nurses to be bathed, have her bruises attended, and to be put -to bed. - -In a place where it is difficult to surprise people, they were -astonished women as they removed the Angel's dainty stained and torn -clothing, drew off hose muck-baked to her limbs, soaked the dried loam -from her silken hair, and washed the beautiful scratched, bruised, -dirt-covered body. The Angel fell fast asleep long before they had -finished, and lay deeply unconscious, while the fight for Freckles' life -was being waged. - -Three days later she was the same Angel as of old, except that Freckles -was constantly in her thoughts. The anxiety and responsibility that -she felt for his condition had bred in her a touch of womanliness and -authority that was new. That morning she arose early and hovered near -Freckles' door. She had been allowed to remain with him constantly, for -the nurses and surgeons had learned, with his returning consciousness, -that for her alone would the active, highly strung, pain-racked sufferer -be quiet and obey orders. When she was dropping from loss of sleep, the -threat that she would fall ill had to be used to send her to bed. Then -by telling Freckles that the Angel was asleep and they would waken her -the moment he moved, they were able to control him for a short time. - -The surgeon was with Freckles. The Angel had been told that the word -he brought that morning would be final, so she curled in a window seat, -dropped the curtains behind her, and in dire anxiety, waited the opening -of the door. - -Just as it unclosed, McLean came hurrying down the hall and to the -surgeon, but with one glance at his face he stepped back in dismay; -while the Angel, who had arisen, sank to the seat again, too dazed to -come forward. The men faced each other. The Angel, with parted lips and -frightened eyes, bent forward in tense anxiety. - -“I--I thought he was doing nicely?” faltered McLean. - -“He bore the operation well,” replied the surgeon, “and his wounds are -not necessarily fatal. I told you that yesterday, but I did not tell you -that something else probably would kill him; and it will. He need not -die from the accident, but he will not live the day out.” - -“But why? What is it?” asked McLean hurriedly. “We all dearly love the -boy. We have millions among us to do anything that money can accomplish. -Why must he die, if those broken bones are not the cause?” - -“That is what I am going to give you the opportunity to tell me,” - replied the surgeon. “He need not die from the accident, yet he is -dying as fast as his splendid physical condition will permit, and it is -because he so evidently prefers death to life. If he were full of hope -and ambition to live, my work would be easy. If all of you love him as -you prove you do, and there is unlimited means to give him anything he -wants, why should he desire death?” - -“Is he dying?” demanded McLean. - -“He is,” said the surgeon. “He will not live this day out, unless some -strong reaction sets in at once. He is so low, that preferring death to -life, nature cannot overcome his inertia. If he is to live, he must be -made to desire life. Now he undoubtedly wishes for death, and that it -come quickly.” - -“Then he must die,” said McLean. - -His broad shoulders shook convulsively. His strong hands opened and -closed mechanically. - -“Does that mean that you know what he desires and cannot, or will not, -supply it?” - -McLean groaned in misery. - -“It means,” he said desperately, “that I know what he wants, but it is -as far removed from my power to help him as it would be to give him a -star. The thing for which he will die, he can never have.” - -“Then you must prepare for the end very shortly” said the surgeon, -turning abruptly away. - -McLean caught his arm roughly. - -“You look here!” he cried in desperation. “You say that as if I could do -something if I would. I tell you the boy is dear to me past expression. -I would do anything--spend any sum. You have noticed and repeatedly -commented on the young girl with me. It is that child that he wants! He -worships her to adoration, and knowing he can never be anything to her, -he prefers death to life. In God's name, what can I do about it?” - -“Barring that missing hand, I never examined a finer man,” said the -surgeon, “and she seemed perfectly devoted to him; why cannot he have -her?” - -“Why?” echoed McLean. “Why? Well, for many reasons! I told you he was my -son. You probably knew that he was not. A little over a year ago I never -had seen him. He joined one of my lumber gangs from the road. He is a -stray, left at one of your homes for the friendless here in Chicago. -When he grew up the superintendent bound him to a brutal man. He ran -away and landed in one of my lumber camps. He has no name or knowledge -of legal birth. The Angel--we have talked of her. You see what she is, -physically and mentally. She has ancestors reaching back to Plymouth -Rock, and across the sea for generations before that. She is an -idolized, petted only child, and there is great wealth. Life holds -everything for her, nothing for him. He sees it more plainly than anyone -else could. There is nothing for the boy but death, if it is the Angel -that is required to save him.” - -The Angel stood between them. - -“Well, I just guess not!” she cried. “If Freckles wants me, all he has -to do is to say so, and he can have me!” - -The amazed men stepped back, staring at her. - -“That he will never say,” said McLean at last, “and you don't -understand, Angel. I don't know how you came here. I wouldn't have had -you hear that for the world, but since you have, dear girl, you must be -told that it isn't your friendship or your kindness Freckles wants; it -is your love.” - -The Angel looked straight into the great surgeon's eyes with her clear, -steady orbs of blue, and then into McLean's with unwavering frankness. - -“Well, I do love him,” she said simply. - -McLean's arms dropped helplessly. - -“You don't understand,” he reiterated patiently. “It isn't the love of -a friend, or a comrade, or a sister, that Freckles wants from you; it -is the love of a sweetheart. And if to save the life he has offered -for you, you are thinking of being generous and impulsive enough to -sacrifice your future--in the absence of your father, it will become -my plain duty, as the protector in whose hands he has placed you, to -prevent such rashness. The very words you speak, and the manner in which -you say them, prove that you are a mere child, and have not dreamed what -love is.” - -Then the Angel grew splendid. A rosy flush swept the pallor of fear -from her face. Her big eyes widened and dilated with intense lights. She -seemed to leap to the height and the dignity of superb womanhood before -their wondering gaze. - -“I never have had to dream of love,” she said proudly. “I never have -known anything else, in all my life, but to love everyone and to have -everyone love me. And there never has been anyone so dear as Freckles. -If you will remember, we have been through a good deal together. I do -love Freckles, just as I say I do. I don't know anything about the love -of sweethearts, but I love him with all the love in my heart, and I -think that will satisfy him.” - -“Surely it should!” muttered the man of knives and lancets. - -McLean reached to take hold of the Angel, but she saw the movement and -swiftly stepped back. - -“As for my father,” she continued, “he at once told me what he learned -from you about Freckles. I've known all you know for several weeks. That -knowledge didn't change your love for him a particle. I think the Bird -Woman loved him more. Why should you two have all the fine perceptions -there are? Can't I see how brave, trustworthy, and splendid he is? Can't -I see how his soul vibrates with his music, his love of beautiful things -and the pangs of loneliness and heart hunger? Must you two love him -with all the love there is, and I give him none? My father is never -unreasonable. He won't expect me not to love Freckles, or not to tell -him so, if the telling will save him.” - -She darted past McLean into Freckles' room, closed the door, and turned -the key. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -Wherein Freckles refuses Love Without Knowledge of Honorable Birth, and -the Angel Goes in Quest of it - -Freckles lay on a flat pillow, his body immovable in a plaster cast, his -maimed arm, as always, hidden. His greedy gaze fastened at once on the -Angel's face. She crossed to him with light step and bent over him with -infinite tenderness. Her heart ached at the change in his appearance. He -seemed so weak, heart hungry, so utterly hopeless, so alone. She could -see that the night had been one long terror. - -For the first time she tried putting herself in Freckles' place. What -would it mean to have no parents, no home, no name? No name! That was -the worst of all. That was to be lost--indeed--utterly and hopelessly -lost. The Angel lifted her hands to her dazed head and reeled, as she -tried to face that proposition. She dropped on her knees beside the bed, -slipped her arm under the pillow, and leaning over Freckles, set her -lips on his forehead. He smiled faintly, but his wistful face appeared -worse for it. It hurt the Angel to the heart. - -“Dear Freckles,” she said, “there is a story in your eyes this morning, -tell me?” - -Freckles drew a long, wavering breath. - -“Angel,” he begged, “be generous! Be thinking of me a little. I'm so -homesick and worn out, dear Angel, be giving me back me promise. Let me -go?” - -“Why Freckles!” faltered the Angel. “You don't know what you are asking. -'Let you go!' I cannot! I love you better than anyone, Freckles. I -think you are the very finest person I ever knew. I have our lives all -planned. I want you to be educated and learn all there is to know about -singing, just as soon as you are well enough. By the time you have -completed your education I will have finished college, and then I want,” - she choked a second, “I want you to be my real knight, Freckles, and -come to me and tell me that you--like me--a little. I have been counting -on you for my sweetheart from the very first, Freckles. I can't give you -up, unless you don't like me. But you do like me--just a little--don't -you, Freckles?” - -Freckles lay whiter than the coverlet, his staring eyes on the ceiling -and his breath wheezing between dry lips. The Angel awaited his answer -a second, and when none came, she dropped her crimsoning face beside him -on the pillow and whispered in his ear: - -“Freckles, I--I'm trying to make love to you. Oh, can't you help me only -a little bit? It's awful hard all alone! I don't know how, when I really -mean it, but Freckles, I love you. I must have you, and now I guess--I -guess maybe I'd better kiss you next.” - -She lifted her shamed face and bravely laid her feverish, quivering lips -on his. Her breath, like clover-bloom, was in his nostrils, and her hair -touched his face. Then she looked into his eyes with reproach. - -“Freckles,” she panted, “Freckles! I didn't think it was in you to be -mean!” - -“Mean, Angel! Mean to you?” gasped Freckles. - -“Yes,” said the Angel. “Downright mean. When I kiss you, if you had any -mercy at all you'd kiss back, just a little bit.” - -Freckles' sinewy fist knotted into the coverlet. His chin pointed -ceilingward while his head rocked on the pillow. - -“Oh, Jesus!” burst from him in agony. “You ain't the only one that was -crucified!” - -The Angel caught Freckles' hand and carried it to her breast. - -“Freckles!” she wailed in terror, “Freckles! It is a mistake? Is it that -you don't want me?” - -Freckles' head rolled on in wordless suffering. - -“Wait a bit, Angel?” he panted at last. “Be giving me a little time!” - -The Angel arose with controlled features. She bathed his face, -straightened his hair, and held water to his lips. It seemed a long time -before he reached toward her. Instantly she knelt again, carried his -hand to her breast, and leaned her cheek upon it. - -“Tell me, Freckles,” she whispered softly. - -“If I can,” said Freckles in agony. “It's just this. Angels are -from above. Outcasts are from below. You've a sound body and you're -beautifulest of all. You have everything that loving, careful raising -and money can give you. I have so much less than nothing that I don't -suppose I had any right to be born. It's a sure thing--nobody wanted me -afterward, so of course, they didn't before. Some of them should have -been telling you long ago.” - -“If that's all you have to say, Freckles, I've known that quite a -while,” said the Angel stoutly. “Mr. McLean told my father, and he told -me. That only makes me love you more, to pay for all you've missed.” - -“Then I'm wondering at you,” said Freckles in a voice of awe. “Can't you -see that if you were willing and your father would come and offer you -to me, I couldn't be touching the soles of your feet, in love--me, whose -people brawled over me, cut off me hand, and throwed me away to freeze -and to die! Me, who has no name just as much because I've no RIGHT to -any, as because I don't know it. When I was little, I planned to find me -father and mother when I grew up. Now I know me mother deserted me, and -me father was maybe a thief and surely a liar. The pity for me suffering -and the watching over me have gone to your head, dear Angel, and it's me -must be thinking for you. If you could be forgetting me lost hand, where -I was raised, and that I had no name to give you, and if you would be -taking me as I am, some day people such as mine must be, might come upon -you. I used to pray ivery night and morning and many times the day to -see me mother. Now I only pray to die quickly and never risk the sight -of her. 'Tain't no ways possible, Angel! It's a wildness of your dear -head. Oh, do for mercy sake, kiss me once more and be letting me go!” - -“Not for a minute!” cried the Angel. “Not for a minute, if those are -all the reasons you have. It's you who are wild in your head, but I can -understand just how it happened. Being shut in that Home most of your -life, and seeing children every day whose parents did neglect and desert -them, makes you sure yours did the same; and yet there are so many other -things that could have happened so much more easily than that. There are -thousands of young couples who come to this country and start a family -with none of their relatives here. Chicago is a big, wicked city, and -grown people could disappear in many ways, and who would there ever be -to find to whom their little children belonged? The minute my father -told me how you felt, I began to study this thing over, and I've made up -my mind you are dead wrong. I meant to ask my father or the Bird Woman -to talk to you before you went away to school, but as matters are right -now I guess I'll just do it myself. It's all so plain to me. Oh, if I -could only make you see!” - -She buried her face in the pillow and presently lifted it, transfigured. - -“Now I have it!” she cried. “Oh, dear heart! I can make it so plain! -Freckles, can you imagine you see the old Limberlost trail? Well when -we followed it, you know there were places where ugly, prickly thistles -overgrew the path, and you went ahead with your club and bent them back -to keep them from stinging through my clothing. Other places there were -big shining pools where lovely, snow-white lilies grew, and you waded -in and gathered them for me. Oh dear heart, don't you see? It's this! -Everywhere the wind carried that thistledown, other thistles sprang up -and grew prickles; and wherever those lily seeds sank to the mire, the -pure white of other lilies bloomed. But, Freckles, there was never -a place anywhere in the Limberlost, or in the whole world, where the -thistledown floated and sprang up and blossomed into white lilies! -Thistles grow from thistles, and lilies from other lilies. Dear -Freckles, think hard! You must see it! You are a lily, straight through. -You never, never could have drifted from the thistle-patch. - -“Where did you find the courage to go into the Limberlost and face its -terrors? You inherited it from the blood of a brave father, dear heart. -Where did you get the pluck to hold for over a year a job that few men -would have taken at all? You got it from a plucky mother, you bravest -of boys. You attacked single-handed a man almost twice your size, and -fought as a demon, merely at the suggestion that you be deceptive and -dishonest. Could your mother or your father have been untruthful? Here -you are, so hungry and starved that you are dying for love. Where -did you get all that capacity for loving? You didn't inherit it from -hardened, heartless people, who would disfigure you and purposely leave -you to die, that's one sure thing. You once told me of saving your big -bullfrog from a rattlesnake. You knew you risked a horrible death when -you did it. Yet you will spend miserable years torturing yourself with -the idea that your own mother might have cut off that hand. Shame on -you, Freckles! Your mother would have done this----” - -The Angel deliberately turned back the cover, slipped up the sleeve, and -laid her lips on the scars. - -“Freckles! Wake up!” she cried, almost shaking him. “Come to your -senses! Be a thinking, reasoning man! You have brooded too much, and -been all your life too much alone. It's all as plain as plain can be to -me. You must see it! Like breeds like in this world! You must be some -sort of a reproduction of your parents, and I am not afraid to vouch for -them, not for a minute! - -“And then, too, if more proof is needed, here it is: Mr. McLean says -that you never once have failed in tact and courtesy. He says that you -are the most perfect gentleman he ever knew, and he has traveled the -world over. How does it happen, Freckles? No one at that Home taught -you. Hundreds of men couldn't be taught, even in a school of etiquette; -so it must be instinctive with you. If it is, why, that means that it is -born in you, and a direct inheritance from a race of men that have been -gentlemen for ages, and couldn't be anything else. - -“Then there's your singing. I don't believe there ever was a mortal with -a sweeter voice than yours, and while that doesn't prove anything, there -is a point that does. The little training you had from that choirmaster -won't account for the wonderful accent and ease with which you sing. -Somewhere in your close blood is a marvelously trained vocalist; we -every one of us believe that, Freckles. - -“Why does my father refer to you constantly as being of fine perceptions -and honor? Because you are, Freckles. Why does the Bird Woman leave her -precious work and come here to help look after you? I never heard of her -losing any time over anyone else. It's because she loves you. And why -does Mr. McLean turn all of his valuable business over to hired men and -watch you personally? And why is he hunting excuses every day to spend -money on you? My father says McLean is full Scotch-close with a dollar. -He is a hard-headed business man, Freckles, and he is doing it because -he finds you worthy of it. Worthy of all we all can do and more than we -know how to do, dear heart! Freckles, are you listening to me? Oh! won't -you see it? Won't you believe it?” - -“Oh, Angel!” chattered the bewildered Freckles, “are you truly maning -it? Could it be?” - -“Of course it could,” flashed the Angel, “because it just is!” - -“But you can't prove it,” wailed Freckles. “It ain't giving me a name, -or me honor!” - -“Freckles,” said the Angel sternly, “you are unreasonable! Why, I did -prove every word I said! Everything proves it! You look here! If you -knew for sure that I could give you a name and your honor, and prove -to you that your mother did love you, why, then, would you just go to -breathing like perpetual motion and hang on for dear life and get well?” - -A bright light shone in Freckles' eyes. - -“If I knew that, Angel,” he said solemnly, “you couldn't be killing me -if you felled the biggest tree in the Limberlost smash on me!” - -“Then you go right to work,” said the Angel, “and before night I'll -prove one thing to you: I can show you easily enough how much your -mother loved you. That will be the first step, and then the remainder -will all come. If my father and Mr. McLean are so anxious to spend some -money, I'll give them a chance. I don't see why we haven't comprehended -how you felt and so have been at work weeks ago. We've been awfully -selfish. We've all been so comfortable, we never stopped to think what -other people were suffering before our eyes. None of us has understood. -I'll hire the finest detective in Chicago, and we'll go to work -together. This is nothing compared with things people do find out. We'll -go at it, beak and claw, and we'll show you a thing or two.” - -Freckles caught her sleeve. - -“Me mother, Angel! Me mother!” he marveled hoarsely. “Did you say -you could be finding out today if me mother loved me? How? Oh, Angel! -Nothing matters, IF ONLY ME MOTHER DIDN'T DO IT!” - -“Then you rest easy,” said the Angel, with large confidence. “Your -mother didn't do it! Mothers of sons such as you don't do things like -that. I'll go to work at once and prove it to you. The first thing to -do is to go to that Home where you were and get the clothes you wore the -night you were left there. I know that they are required to save those -things carefully. We can find out almost all there is to know about your -mother from them. Did you ever see them?” - -“Yis,” he replied. - -“Freckles! Were they white?” she cried. - -“Maybe they were once. They're all yellow with laying, and brown with -blood-stains now” said Freckles, the old note of bitterness creeping in. -“You can't be telling anything at all by them, Angel!” - -“Well, but I just can!” said the Angel positively. “I can see from the -quality what kind of goods your mother could afford to buy. I can see -from the cut whether she had good taste. I can see from the care she -took in making them how much she loved and wanted you.” - -“But how? Angel, tell me how!” implored Freckles with trembling -eagerness. - -“Why, easily enough,” said the Angel. “I thought you'd understand. -People that can afford anything at all, always buy white for little new -babies--linen and lace, and the very finest things to be had. There's a -young woman living near us who cut up her wedding clothes to have fine -things for her baby. Mothers who love and want their babies don't buy -little rough, ready-made things, and they don't run up what they make on -an old sewing machine. They make fine seams, and tucks, and put on lace -and trimming by hand. They sit and stitch, and stitch--little, even -stitches, every one just as careful. Their eyes shine and their faces -glow. When they have to quit to do something else, they look sorry, and -fold up their work so particularly. There isn't much worth knowing about -your mother that those little clothes won't tell. I can see her putting -the little stitches into them and smiling with shining eyes over your -coming. Freckles, I'll wager you a dollar those little clothes of yours -are just alive with the dearest, tiny handmade stitches.” - -A new light dawned in Freckles' eyes. A tinge of warm color swept into -his face. Renewed strength was noticeable in his grip of her hands. - -“Oh Angel! Will you go now? Will you be hurrying?” he cried. - -“Right away,” said the Angel. “I won't stop for a thing, and I'll hurry -with all my might.” - -She smoothed his pillow, straightened the cover, gave him one steady -look in the eyes, and went quietly from the room. - -Outside the door, McLean and the surgeon anxiously awaited her. McLean -caught her shoulders. - -“Angel, what have you done?” he demanded. - -The Angel smiled defiance into his eyes. - -“'What have I done?'” she repeated. “I've tried to save Freckles.” - -“What will your father say?” groaned McLean. - -“It strikes me,” said the Angel, “that what Freckles said would be to -the point.” - -“Freckles!” exclaimed McLean. “What could he say?” - -“He seemed to be able to say several things,” answered the Angel -sweetly. “I fancy the one that concerns you most at present was, that if -my father should offer me to him he would not have me.” - -“And no one knows why better than I do,” cried McLean. “Every day he -must astonish me with some new fineness.” - -He turned to the surgeon. “Save him!” he commanded. “Save him!” he -implored. “He is too fine to be sacrificed.” - -“His salvation lies here,” said the surgeon, stroking the Angel's -sunshiny hair, “and I can read in the face of her that she knows how she -is going to work it out. Don't trouble for the boy. She will save him!” - -The Angel laughingly sped down the hall, and into the street, just as -she was. - -“I have come,” she said to the matron of the Home, “to ask if you will -allow me to examine, or, better yet, to take with me, the little clothes -that a boy you called Freckles, discharged last fall, wore the night he -was left here.” - -The woman looked at her in greater astonishment than the occasion -demanded. - -“Well, I'd be glad to let you see them,” she said at last, “but the -fact is we haven't them. I do hope we haven't made some mistake. I was -thoroughly convinced, and so was the superintendent. We let his people -take those things away yesterday. Who are you, and what do you want with -them?” - -The Angel stood dazed and speechless, staring at the matron. - -“There couldn't have been a mistake,” continued the matron, seeing the -Angel's distress. “Freckles was here when I took charge, ten years ago. -These people had it all proved that he belonged to them. They had -him traced to where he ran away in Illinois last fall, and there they -completely lost track of him. I'm sorry you seem so disappointed, but it -is all right. The man is his uncle, and as like the boy as he possibly -could be. He is almost killed to go back without him. If you know where -Freckles is, they'd give big money to find out.” - -The Angel laid a hand along each cheek to steady her chattering teeth. - -“Who are they?” she stammered. “Where are they going?” - -“They are Irish folks, miss,” said the matron. “They have been in -Chicago and over the country for the past three months, hunting him -everywhere. They have given up, and are starting home today. They----” - -“Did they leave an address? Where could I find them?” interrupted the -Angel. - -“They left a card, and I notice the morning paper has the man's picture -and is full of them. They've advertised a great deal in the city papers. -It's a wonder you haven't seen something.” - -“Trains don't run right. We never get Chicago papers,” said the Angel. -“Please give me that card quickly. They may escape me. I simply must -catch them!” - -The matron hurried to the secretary and came back with a card. - -“Their addresses are there,” she said. “Both in Chicago and at their -home. They made them full and plain, and I was to cable at once if I -got the least clue of him at any time. If they've left the city, you can -stop them in New York. You're sure to catch them before they sail--if -you hurry.” - -The matron caught up a paper and thrust it into the Angel's hand as she -ran to the street. - -The Angel glanced at the card. The Chicago address was Suite Eleven, -Auditorium. She laid her hand on her driver's sleeve and looked into his -eyes. - -“There is a fast-driving limit?” she asked. - -“Yes, miss.” - -“Will you crowd it all you can without danger of arrest? I will pay -well. I must catch some people!” - -Then she smiled at him. The hospital, an Orphans' Home, and the -Auditorium seemed a queer combination to that driver, but the Angel was -always and everywhere the Angel, and her methods were strictly her own. - -“I will take you there as quickly as any man could with a team,” he said -promptly. - -The Angel clung to the card and paper, and as best she could in the -lurching, swaying cab, read the addresses over. - -“O'More, Suite Eleven, Auditorium.” - -“'O'More,'” she repeated. “Seems to fit Freckles to a dot. Wonder if -that could be his name? 'Suite Eleven' means that you are pretty well -fixed. Suites in the Auditorium come high.” - -Then she turned the card and read on its reverse, Lord Maxwell O'More, -M. P., Killvany Place, County Clare, Ireland. - -The Angel sat on the edge of the seat, bracing her feet against the one -opposite, as the cab pitched and swung around corners and past vehicles. -She mechanically fingered the pasteboard and stared straight ahead. Then -she drew a deep breath and read the card again. - -“A Lord-man!” she groaned despairingly. “A Lord-man! Bet my hoecake's -scorched! Here I've gone and pledged my word to Freckles I'd find him -some decent relatives, that he could be proud of, and now there isn't a -chance out of a dozen that he'll have to be ashamed of them after all. -It's too mean!” - -The tears of vexation rolled down the tired, nerve-racked Angel's -cheeks. - -“This isn't going to do,” she said, resolutely wiping her eyes with the -palm of her hand and gulping down the nervous spasm in her throat. “I -must read this paper before I meet Lord O'More.” - -She blinked back the tears and spreading the paper on her knee, read: -“After three months' fruitless search, Lord O'More gives up the quest of -his lost nephew, and leaves Chicago today for his home in Ireland.” - -She read on, and realized every word. The likeness settled any doubt. It -was Freckles over again, only older and well dressed. - -“Well, I must catch you if I can,” muttered the Angel. “But when I do, -if you are a gentleman in name only, you shan't have Freckles; that's -flat. You're not his father and he is twenty. Anyway, if the law will -give him to you for one year, you can't spoil him, because nobody could, -and,” she added, brightening, “he'll probably do you a lot of good. -Freckles and I both must study years yet, and you should be something -that will save him. I guess it will come out all right. At least, I -don't believe you can take him away if I say no.” - -“Thank you; and wait, no matter how long,” she said to her driver. - -Catching up the paper, she hurried to the desk and laid down Lord -O'More's card. - -“Has my uncle started yet?” she asked sweetly. - -The surprised clerk stepped back on a bellboy, and covertly kicked him -for being in the way. - -“His lordship is in his room,” he said, with a low bow. - -“All right,” said the Angel, picking up the card. “I thought he might -have started. I'll see him.” - -The clerk shoved the bellboy toward the Angel. - -“Show her ladyship to the elevator and Lord O'More's suite,” he said, -bowing double. - -“Aw, thanks,” said the Angel with a slight nod, as she turned away. - -“I'm not sure,” she muttered to herself as the elevator sped upward, -“whether it's the Irish or the English who say: 'Aw, thanks,' but it's -probable he isn't either; and anyway, I just had to do something to -counteract that 'All right.' How stupid of me!” - -At the bellboy's tap, the door swung open and the liveried servant -thrust a cardtray before the Angel. The opening of the door created a -current that swayed a curtain aside, and in an adjoining room, lounging -in a big chair, with a paper in his hand, sat a man who was, beyond -question, of Freckles' blood and race. - -With perfect control the Angel dropped Lord O'More's card in the tray, -stepped past his servant, and stood before his lordship. - -“Good morning,” she said with tense politeness. - -Lord O'More said nothing. He carelessly glanced her over with amused -curiosity, until her color began to deepen and her blood to run hotly. - -“Well, my dear,” he said at last, “how can I serve you?” - -Instantly the Angel became indignant. She had been so shielded in the -midst of almost entire freedom, owing to the circumstances of her life, -that the words and the look appeared to her as almost insulting. She -lifted her head with a proud gesture. - -“I am not your 'dear,'” she said with slow distinctness. “There isn't a -thing in the world you can do for me. I came here to see if I could do -something--a very great something--for you; but if I don't like you, I -won't do it!” - -Then Lord O'More did stare. Suddenly he broke into a ringing laugh. -Without a change of attitude or expression, the Angel stood looking -steadily at him. - -There was a silken rustle, then a beautiful woman with cheeks of satiny -pink, dark hair, and eyes of pure Irish blue, moved to Lord O'More's -side, and catching his arm, shook him impatiently. - -“Terence! Have you lost your senses?” she cried. “Didn't you understand -what the child said? Look at her face! See what she has!” - -Lord O'More opened his eyes widely and sat up. He did look at the -Angel's face intently, and suddenly found it so good that it was -difficult to follow the next injunction. He arose instantly. - -“I beg your pardon,” he said. “The fact is, I am leaving Chicago sorely -disappointed. It makes me bitter and reckless. I thought you one more of -those queer, useless people who have thrust themselves on me constantly, -and I was careless. Forgive me, and tell me why you came.” - -“I will if I like you,” said the Angel stoutly, “and if I don't, I -won't!” - -“But I began all wrong, and now I don't know how to make you like me,” - said his lordship, with sincere penitence in his tone. - -The Angel found herself yielding to his voice. He spoke in a soft, -mellow, smoothly flowing Irish tone, and although his speech was -perfectly correct, it was so rounded, and accented, and the sentences so -turned, that it was Freckles over again. Still, it was a matter of the -very greatest importance, and she must be sure; so she looked into the -beautiful woman's face. - -“Are you his wife?” she asked. - -“Yes,” said the woman, “I am his wife.” - -“Well,” said the Angel judicially, “the Bird Woman says no one in the -whole world knows all a man's bignesses and all his littlenesses as his -wife does. What you think of him should do for me. Do you like him?” - -The question was so earnestly asked that it met with equal earnestness. -The dark head moved caressingly against Lord O'More's sleeve. - -“Better than anyone in the whole world,” said Lady O'More promptly. - -The Angel mused a second, and then her legal tinge came to the fore -again. - -“Yes, but have you anyone you could like better, if he wasn't all -right?” she persisted. - -“I have three of his sons, two little daughters, a father, mother, and -several brothers and sisters,” came the quick reply. - -“And you like him best?” persisted the Angel with finality. - -“I love him so much that I would give up every one of them with dry eyes -if by so doing I could save him,” cried Lord O'More's wife. - -“Oh!” cried the Angel. “Oh, my!” - -She lifted her clear eyes to Lord O'More's and shook her head. - -“She never, never could do that!” she said. “But it's a mighty big thing -to your credit that she THINKS she could. I guess I'll tell you why I -came.” - -She laid down the paper, and touched the portrait. - -“When you were only a boy, did people call you Freckles?” she asked. - -“Dozens of good fellows all over Ireland and the Continent are doing it -today,” answered Lord O'More. - -The Angel's face wore her most beautiful smile. - -“I was sure of it,” she said winningly. “That's what we call him, and he -is so like you, I doubt if any one of those three boys of yours are -more so. But it's been twenty years. Seems to me you've been a long time -coming!” - -Lord O'More caught the Angel's wrists and his wife slipped her arms -around her. - -“Steady, my girl!” said the man's voice hoarsely. “Don't make me think -you've brought word of the boy at this last hour, unless you know -surely.” - -“It's all right,” said the Angel. “We have him, and there's no chance -of a mistake. If I hadn't gone to that Home for his little clothes, and -heard of you and been hunting you, and had met you on the street, or -anywhere, I would have stopped you and asked you who you were, just -because you are so like him. It's all right. I can tell you where -Freckles is; but whether you deserve to know--that's another matter!” - -Lord O'More did not hear her. He dropped in his chair, and covering his -face, burst into those terrible sobs that shake and rend a strong man. -Lady O'More hovered over him, weeping. - -“Umph! Looks pretty fair for Freckles,” muttered the Angel. “Lots of -things can be explained; now perhaps they can explain this.” - -They did explain so satisfactorily that in a few minutes the Angel was -on her feet, hurrying Lord and Lady O'More to reach the hospital. “You -said Freckles' old nurse knew his mother's picture instantly,” said the -Angel. “I want that picture and the bundle of little clothes.” - -Lady O'More gave them into her hands. - -The likeness was a large miniature, painted on ivory, with a frame of -beaten gold. Surrounded by masses of dark hair was a delicately cut -face. In the upper part of it there was no trace of Freckles, but -the lips curving in a smile were his very own. The Angel gazed at it -steadily. Then with a quivering breath she laid the portrait aside and -reached both hands to Lord O'More. - -“That will save Freckles' life and insure his happiness,” she said -positively. “Thank you, oh thank you for coming!” - -She opened the bundle of yellow and brown linen and gave only a glance -at the texture and work. Then she gathered the little clothes and the -picture to her heart and led the way to the cab. - -Ushering Lord and Lady O'More into the reception room, she said to -McLean, “Please go call up my father and ask him to come on the first -train.” - -She closed the door after him. - -“These are Freckles' people,” she said to the Bird Woman. “You can find -out about each other; I'm going to him.” - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -Wherein Freckles Finds His Birthright and the Angel Loses Her Heart - -The nurse left the room quietly, as the Angel entered, carrying the -bundle and picture. When they were alone, she turned to Freckles and saw -that the crisis was indeed at hand. - -That she had good word to give him was his salvation, for despite the -heavy plaster jacket that held his body immovable, his head was lifted -from the pillow. Both arms reached for her. His lips and cheeks flamed, -while his eyes flashed with excitement. - -“Angel,” he panted. “Oh Angel! Did you find them? Are they white? Are -the little stitches there? OH ANGEL! DID ME MOTHER LOVE ME?” - -The words seemed to leap from his burning lips. The Angel dropped the -bundle on the bed and laid the picture face down across his knees. -She gently pushed his head to the pillow and caught his arms in a firm -grasp. - -“Yes, dear heart,” she said with fullest assurance. “No little clothes -were ever whiter. I never in all my life saw such dainty, fine, little -stitches; and as for loving you, no boy's mother ever loved him more!” - -A nervous trembling seized Freckles. - -“Sure? Are you sure?” he urged with clicking teeth. - -“I know,” said the Angel firmly. “And Freckles, while you rest and be -glad, I want to tell you a story. When you feel stronger we will look at -the clothes together. They are here. They are all right. But while I -was at the Home getting them, I heard of some people that were hunting -a lost boy. I went to see them, and what they told me was all so exactly -like what might have happened to you that I must tell you. Then you'll -understand that things could be very different from what you always have -tortured yourself with thinking. Are you strong enough to listen? May I -tell you?” - -“Maybe 'twasn't me mother! Maybe someone else made those little -stitches!” - -“Now, goosie, don't you begin that,” said the Angel, “because I know -that it was!” - -“Know!” cried Freckles, his head springing from the pillow. “Know! How -can you know?” - -The Angel gently soothed him back. - -“Why, because nobody else would ever sit and do it the way it is done. -That's how I know,” she said emphatically. “Now you listen while I tell -you about this lost boy and his people, who have hunted for months and -can't find him.” - -Freckles lay quietly under her touch, but he did not hear a word that -she was saying until his roving eyes rested on her face; he immediately -noticed a remarkable thing. For the first time she was talking to him -and avoiding his eyes. That was not like the Angel at all. It was the -delight of hearing her speak that she looked one squarely in the face -and with perfect frankness. There were no side glances and down-drooping -eyes when the Angel talked; she was business straight through. Instantly -Freckles' wandering thoughts fastened on her words. - -“--and he was a sour, grumpy, old man,” she was saying. “He always had -been spoiled, because he was an only son, so he had a title, and a big -estate. He would have just his way, no matter about his sweet little -wife, or his boys, or anyone. So when his elder son fell in love with a -beautiful girl having a title, the very girl of all the world his -father wanted him to, and added a big adjoining estate to his, why, that -pleased him mightily. - -“Then he went and ordered his younger son to marry a poky kind of a -girl, that no one liked, to add another big estate on the other side, -and that was different. That was all the world different, because the -elder son had been in love all his life with the girl he married, and, -oh, Freckles, it's no wonder, for I saw her! She's a beauty and she has -the sweetest way. - -“But that poor younger son, he had been in love with the village -vicar's daughter all his life. That's no wonder either, for she was more -beautiful yet. She could sing as the angels, but she hadn't a cent. She -loved him to death, too, if he was bony and freckled and red-haired--I -don't mean that! They didn't say what color his hair was, but his -father's must have been the reddest ever, for when he found out about -them, and it wasn't anything so terrible, HE JUST CAVED! - -“The old man went to see the girl--the pretty one with no money, of -course--and he hurt her feelings until she ran away. She went to London -and began studying music. Soon she grew to be a fine singer, so she -joined a company and came to this country. - -“When the younger son found that she had left London, he followed her. -When she got here all alone, and afraid, and saw him coming to her, why, -she was so glad she up and married him, just like anybody else would -have done. He didn't want her to travel with the troupe, so when they -reached Chicago they thought that would be a good place, and they -stopped, while he hunted work. It was slow business, because he never -had been taught to do a useful thing, and he didn't even know how to -hunt work, least of all to do it when he found it; so pretty soon things -were going wrong. But if he couldn't find work, she could always sing, -so she sang at night, and made little things in the daytime. He didn't -like her to sing in public, and he wouldn't allow her when he could -HELP himself; but winter came, it was very cold, and fire was expensive. -Rents went up, and they had to move farther out to cheaper and -cheaper places; and you were coming--I mean, the boy that is lost was -coming--and they were almost distracted. Then the man wrote and told his -father all about it; and his father sent the letter back unopened with -a line telling him never to write again. When the baby came, there was -very little left to pawn for food and a doctor, and nothing at all for -a nurse; so an old neighbor woman went in and took care of the young -mother and the little baby, because she was so sorry for them. By that -time they were away in the suburbs on the top floor of a little wooden -house, among a lot of big factories, and it kept growing colder, with -less to eat. Then the man grew desperate and he went just to find -something to eat and the woman was desperate, too. She got up, left the -old woman to take care of her baby, and went into the city to sing for -some money. The woman became so cold she put the baby in bed and went -home. Then a boiler blew up in a big factory beside the little house and -set it on fire. A piece of iron was pitched across and broke through -the roof. It came down smash, and cut just one little hand off the poor -baby. It screamed and screamed; and the fire kept coming closer and -closer. - -“The old woman ran out with the other people and saw what had happened. -She knew there wasn't going to be time to wait for firemen or anything, -so she ran into the building. She could hear the baby screaming, and she -couldn't stand that; so she worked her way to it. There it was, all hurt -and bleeding. Then she was almost scared to death over thinking what its -mother would do to her for going away and leaving it, so she ran to a -Home for little friendless babies, that was close, and banged on the -door. Then she hid across the street until the baby was taken in, and -then she ran back to see if her own house was burning. The big factory -and the little house and a lot of others were all gone. The people there -told her that the beautiful lady came back and ran into the house to -find her baby. She had just gone in when her husband came, and he went -in after her, and the house fell over both of them.” - -Freckles lay rigidly, with his eyes on the Angel's face, while she -talked rapidly to the ceiling. - -“Then the old woman was sick about that poor little baby. She was afraid -to tell them at the Home, because she knew she never should have left -it, but she wrote a letter and sent it to where the beautiful woman, -when she was ill, had said her husband's people lived. She told all -about the little baby that she could remember: when it was born, how it -was named for the man's elder brother, that its hand had been cut off in -the fire, and where she had put it to be doctored and taken care of. She -told them that its mother and father were both burned, and she begged -and implored them to come after it. - -“You'd think that would have melted a heart of ice, but that old man -hadn't any heart to melt, for he got that letter and read it. He hid it -away among his papers and never told a soul. A few months ago he died. -When his elder son went to settle his business, he found the letter -almost the first thing. He dropped everything, and came, with his wife, -to hunt that baby, because he always had loved his brother dearly, and -wanted him back. He had hunted for him all he dared all these years, but -when he got here you were gone--I mean the baby was gone, and I had to -tell you, Freckles, for you see, it might have happened to you like that -just as easy as to that other lost boy.” - -Freckles reached up and turned the Angel's face until he compelled her -eyes to meet his. - -“Angel,” he asked quietly, “why don't you look at me when you are -telling about that lost boy?” - -“I--I didn't know I wasn't,” faltered the Angel. - -“It seems to me,” said Freckles, his breath beginning to come in sharp -wheezes, “that you got us rather mixed, and it ain't like you to be -mixing things till one can't be knowing. If they were telling you so -much, did they say which hand was for being off that lost boy?” - -The Angel's eyes escaped again. - -“It--it was the same as yours,” she ventured, barely breathing in her -fear. - -Still Freckles lay rigid and whiter than the coverlet. - -“Would that boy be as old as me?” he asked. - -“Yes,” said the Angel faintly. - -“Angel,” said Freckles at last, catching her wrist, “are you trying to -tell me that there is somebody hunting a boy that you're thinking might -be me? Are you belavin' you've found me relations?” - -Then the Angel's eyes came home. The time had come. She pinioned -Freckles' arms to his sides and bent above him. - -“How strong are you, dear heart?” she breathed. “How brave are you? Can -you bear it? Dare I tell you that?” - -“No!” gasped Freckles. “Not if you're sure! I can't bear it! I'll die if -you do!” - -The day had been one unremitting strain with the Angel. Nerve tension -was drawn to the finest thread. It snapped suddenly. - -“Die!” she flamed. “Die, if I tell you that! You said this morning that -you would die if you DIDN'T know your name, and if your people were -honorable. Now I've gone and found you a name that stands for ages of -honor, a mother who loved you enough to go into the fire and die for -you, and the nicest kind of relatives, and you turn round and say you'll -die over that! YOU JUST TRY DYING AND YOU'LL GET A GOOD SLAP!” - -The Angel stood glaring at him. One second Freckles lay paralyzed and -dumb with astonishment. The next the Irish in his soul arose above -everything. A laugh burst from him. The terrified Angel caught him in -her arms and tried to stifle the sound. She implored and commanded. When -he was too worn to utter another sound, his eyes laughed silently. - -After a long time, when he was quiet and rested, the Angel commenced -talking to him gently, and this time her big eyes, humid with tenderness -and mellow with happiness, seemed as if they could not leave his face. - -“Dear Freckles,” she was saying, “across your knees there is the face of -the mother who went into the fire for you, and I know the name--old and -full of honor--to which you were born. Dear heart, which will you have -first?” - -Freckles was very tired; the big drops of perspiration ran together on -his temples; but the watching Angel caught the words his lips formed, -“Me mother!” - -She lifted the lovely pictured face and set it in the nook of his arm. -Freckles caught her hand and drew her beside him, and together they -gazed at the picture while the tears slid over their cheeks. - -“Me mother! Oh, me mother! Can you ever be forgiving me? Oh, me -beautiful little mother!” chanted Freckles over and over in exalted -wonder, until he was so completely exhausted that his lips refused to -form the question in his weary eyes. - -“Wait!” cried the Angel with inborn refinement, for she could no more -answer that question than he could ask. “Wait, I will write it!” - -She hurried to the table, caught up the nurse's pencil, and on the back -of a prescription tablet scrawled it: “Terence Maxwell O'More, Dunderry -House, County Clare, Ireland.” - -Before she had finished came Freckles' voice: “Angel, are you hurrying?” - -“Yes,” said the Angel; “I am. But there is a good deal of it. I have to -put in your house and country, so that you will feel located.” - -“Me house?” marveled Freckles. - -“Of course,” said the Angel. “Your uncle says your grandmother left your -father her dower house and estate, because she knew his father would cut -him off. You get that, and all your share of your grandfather's property -besides. It is all set off for you and waiting. Lord O'More told me so. -I suspect you are richer than McLean, Freckles.” - -She closed his fingers over the slip and straightened his hair. - -“Now you are all right, dear Limberlost guard,” she said. “You go to -sleep and don't think of a thing but just pure joy, joy, joy! I'll keep -your people until you wake up. You are too tired to see anyone else just -now!” - -Freckles caught her skirt as she turned from him. - -“I'll go to sleep in five minutes,” he said, “if you will be doing just -one thing more for me. Send for your father! Oh, Angel, send for him -quick! How will I ever be waiting until he comes?” - -One instant the Angel stood looking at him. The next a crimson wave -darkly stained her lovely face. Her chin began a spasmodic quivering and -the tears sprang into her eyes. Her hands caught at her chest as if she -were stifling. Freckles' grasp on her tightened until he drew her beside -him. He slipped his arm around her and drew her face to his pillow. - -“Don't, Angel; for the love of mercy don't be doing that,” he implored. -“I can't be bearing it. Tell me. You must tell me.” - -The Angel shook her head. - -“That ain't fair, Angel,” said Freckles. “You made me tell you when it -was like tearing the heart raw from me breast. And you was for making -everything heaven--just heaven and nothing else for me. If I'm so much -more now than I was an hour ago, maybe I can be thinking of some way to -fix things. You will be telling me?” he coaxed, moving his cheek against -her hair. - -The Angel's head moved in negation. Freckles did a moment of intent -thinking. - -“Maybe I can be guessing,” he whispered. “Will you be giving me three -chances?” - -There was the faintest possible assent. - -“You didn't want me to be knowing me name,” guessed Freckles. - -The Angel's head sprang from the pillow and her tear-stained face flamed -with outraged indignation. - -“Why, I did too!” she cried angrily. - -“One gone,” said Freckles calmly. “You didn't want me to have relatives, -a home, and money.” - -“I did!” exclaimed the Angel. “Didn't I go myself, all alone, into the -city, and find them when I was afraid as death? I did too!” - -“Two gone,” said Freckles. “You didn't want the beautifulest girl in the -world to be telling me.----” - -Down went the Angel's face and a heavy sob shook her. Freckles' clasp -tightened around her shoulders, while his face, in its conflicting -emotions, was a study. He was so stunned and bewildered by the miracle -that had been performed in bringing to light his name and relatives that -he had no strength left for elaborate mental processes. Despite all -it meant to him to know his name at last, and that he was of honorable -birth--knowledge without which life was an eternal disgrace and burden -the one thing that was hammering in Freckles' heart and beating in his -brain, past any attempted expression, was the fact that, while nameless -and possibly born in shame, the Angel had told him that she loved him. -He could find no word with which to begin to voice the rapture of his -heart over that. But if she regretted it--if it had been a thing done -out of her pity for his condition, or her feeling of responsibility, if -it killed him after all, there was only one thing left to do. Not for -McLean, not for the Bird Woman, not for the Duncans would Freckles have -done it--but for the Angel--if it would make her happy--he would do -anything. - -“Angel,” whispered Freckles, with his lips against her hair, “you -haven't learned your history book very well, or else you've forgotten.” - -“Forgotten what?” sobbed the Angel. - -“Forgotten about the real knight, Ladybird,” breathed Freckles. “Don't -you know that, if anything happened that made his lady sorry, a real -knight just simply couldn't be remembering it? Angel, darling little -Swamp Angel, you be listening to me. There was one night on the trail, -one solemn, grand, white night, that there wasn't ever any other like -before or since, when the dear Boss put his arm around me and told me -that he loved me; but if you care, Angel, if you don't want it that -way, why, I ain't remembering that anyone else ever did--not in me whole -life.” - -The Angel lifted her head and looked into the depths of Freckles' honest -gray eyes, and they met hers unwaveringly; but the pain in them was -pitiful. - -“Do you mean,” she demanded, “that you don't remember that a brazen, -forward girl told you, when you hadn't asked her, that she”--the -Angel choked on it a second, but she gave a gulp and brought it out -bravely--“that she loved you?” - -“No!” cried Freckles. “No! I don't remember anything of the kind!” - -But all the songbirds of his soul burst into melody over that one little -clause: “When you hadn't asked her.” - -“But you will,” said the Angel. “You may live to be an old, old man, and -then you will.” - -“I will not!” cried Freckles. “How can you think it, Angel?” - -“You won't even LOOK as if you remember?” - -“I will not!” persisted Freckles. “I'll be swearing to it if you want me -to. If you wasn't too tired to think this thing out straight, you'd be -seeing that I couldn't--that I just simply couldn't! I'd rather give it -all up now and go into eternity alone, without ever seeing a soul of me -same blood, or me home, or hearing another man call me by the name I was -born to, than to remember anything that would be hurting you, Angel. I -should think you'd be understanding that it ain't no ways possible for -me to do it.” - -The Angel's tear-stained face flashed into dazzling beauty. A -half-hysterical little laugh broke from her heart and bubbled over her -lips. - -“Oh, Freckles, forgive me!” she cried. “I've been through so much that -I'm scarcely myself, or I wouldn't be here bothering you when you should -be sleeping. Of course you couldn't! I knew it all the time! I was just -scared! I was forgetting that you were you! You're too good a knight -to remember a thing like that. Of course you are! And when you don't -remember, why, then it's the same as if it never happened. I was almost -killed because I'd gone and spoiled everything, but now it will be all -right. Now you can go on and do things like other men, and I can have -some flowers, and letters, and my sweetheart coming, and when you are -SURE, why, then YOU can tell ME things, can't you? Oh, Freckles, I'm -so glad! Oh, I'm so happy! It's dear of you not to remember, Freckles; -perfectly dear! It's no wonder I love you so. The wonder would be if -I did not. Oh, I should like to know how I'm ever going to make you -understand how much I love you!” - -Pillow and all, she caught him to her breast one long second; then she -was gone. - -Freckles lay dazed with astonishment. At last his amazed eyes searched -the room for something approaching the human to which he could appeal, -and falling on his mother's portrait, he set it before him. - -“For the love of life! Me little mother,” he panted, “did you hear that? -Did you hear it! Tell me, am I living, or am I dead and all heaven come -true this minute? Did you hear it?” - -He shook the frame in his impatience at receiving no answer. - -“You are only a pictured face,” he said at last, “and of course you -can't talk; but the soul of you must be somewhere, and surely in this -hour you are close enough to be hearing. Tell me, did you hear that? I -can't ever be telling a living soul; but darling little mother, who -gave your life for mine, I can always be talking of it to you! Every day -we'll talk it over and try to understand the miracle of it. Tell me, are -all women like that? Were you like me Swamp Angel? If you were, then I'm -understanding why me father followed across the ocean and went into the -fire.” - - - -CHAPTER XX - -Wherein Freckles returns to the Limberlost, and Lord O'More Sails for -Ireland Without Him - -Freckles' voice ceased, his eyes closed, and his head rolled back from -exhaustion. Later in the day he insisted on seeing Lord and Lady O'More, -but he fainted before the resemblance of another man to him, and gave -all of his friends a terrible fright. - -The next morning, the Man of Affairs, with a heart filled with -misgivings, undertook the interview on which Freckles insisted. His -fears were without cause. Freckles was the soul of honor and simplicity. - -“Have they been telling you what's come to me?” he asked without even -waiting for a greeting. - -“Yes,” said the Angel's father. - -“Do you think you have the very worst of it clear to your -understanding?” - -Under Freckles' earnest eyes the Man of Affairs answered soberly: “I -think I have, Mr. O'More.” - -That was the first time Freckles heard his name from the lips of -another. One second he lay overcome; the next, tears filled his eyes, -and he reached out his hand. Then the Angel's father understood, and he -clasped that hand and held it in a strong, firm grasp. - -“Terence, my boy,” he said, “let me do the talking. I came here with -the understanding that you wanted to ask me for my only child. I should -like, at the proper time, to regard her marriage, if she has found the -man she desires to marry, not as losing all I have, but as gaining a man -on whom I can depend to love as a son and to take charge of my affairs -for her when I retire from business. Bend all of your energies toward -rapid recovery, and from this hour understand that my daughter and my -home are yours.” - -“You're not forgetting this?” - -Freckles lifted his right arm. - -“Terence, I'm sorrier than I have words to express about that,” said -the Man of Affairs. “It's a damnable pity! But if it's for me to choose -whether I give all I have left in this world to a man lacking a hand, or -to one of these gambling, tippling, immoral spendthrifts of today, with -both hands and feet off their souls, and a rotten spot in the core, I -choose you; and it seems that my daughter does the same. Put what is -left you of that right arm to the best uses you can in this world, and -never again mention or feel that it is defective so long as you live. -Good day, sir!” - -“One minute more,” said Freckles. “Yesterday the Angel was telling me -that there was money coming to me from two sources. She said that me -grandmother had left me father all of her fortune and her house, because -she knew that his father would be cutting him off, and also that me -uncle had set aside for me what would be me father's interest in his -father's estate. - -“Whatever the sum is that me grandmother left me father, because she -loved him and wanted him to be having it, that I'll be taking. 'Twas -hers from her father, and she had the right to be giving it as she -chose. Anything from the man that knowingly left me father and me mother -to go cold and hungry, and into the fire in misery, when just a little -would have made life so beautiful to them, and saved me this crippled -body--money that he willed from me when he knew I was living, of his -blood and on charity among strangers, I don't touch, not if I freeze, -starve, and burn too! If there ain't enough besides that, and I can't be -earning enough to fix things for the Angel----” - -“We are not discussing money!” burst in the Man of Affairs. “We don't -want any blood-money! We have all we need without it. If you don't feel -right and easy over it, don't you touch a cent of any of it.” - -“It's right I should have what me grandmother intinded for me father, -and I want it,” said Freckles, “but I'd die before I'd touch a cent of -me grandfather's money!” - - -“Now,” said the Angel, “we are all going home. We have done all we can -for Freckles. His people are here. He should know them. They are very -anxious to become acquainted with him. We'll resign him to them. When he -is well, why, then he will be perfectly free to go to Ireland or come to -the Limberlost, just as he chooses. We will go at once.” - -McLean held out for a week, and then he could endure it no longer. -He was heart hungry for Freckles. Communing with himself in the long, -soundful nights of the swamp, he had learned to his astonishment that -for the past year his heart had been circling the Limberlost with -Freckles. He began to wish that he had not left him. Perhaps the -boy--his boy by first right, after all--was being neglected. If the -Boss had been a nervous old woman, he scarcely could have imagined more -things that might be going wrong. - -He started for Chicago, loaded with a big box of goldenrod, asters, -fringed gentians, and crimson leaves, that the Angel carefully had -gathered from Freckles' room, and a little, long slender package. He -traveled with biting, stinging jealousy in his heart. He would not -admit it even to himself, but he was unable to remain longer away from -Freckles and leave him to the care of Lord O'More. - -In a few minutes' talk, while McLean awaited admission to Freckles' -room, his lordship had chatted genially of Freckles' rapid recovery, -of his delight that he was unspotted by his early surroundings, and -his desire to visit the Limberlost with Freckles before they sailed; -he expressed the hope that he could prevail upon the Angel's father to -place her in his wife's care and have her education finished in Paris. -He said they were anxious to do all they could to help bind Freckles' -arrangements with the Angel, as both he and Lady O'More regarded her as -the most promising girl they knew, and one who could be fitted to fill -the high position in which Freckles would place her. - -Every word he uttered was pungent with bitterness to McLean. The swamp -had lost its flavor without Freckles; and yet, as Lord O'More talked, -McLean fervently wished himself in the heart of it. As he entered -Freckles' room he almost lost his breath. Everything was changed. - -Freckles lay beside a window where he could follow Lake Michigan's -blue until the horizon dipped into it. He could see big soft clouds, -white-capped waves, shimmering sails, and puffing steamers trailing -billowing banners of lavender and gray across the sky. Gulls and curlews -wheeled over the water and dipped their wings in the foam. The room was -filled with every luxury that taste and money could introduce. - -All the tan and sunburn had been washed from Freckles' face in sweats -of agony. It was a smooth, even white, its brown rift scarcely showing. -What the nurses and Lady O'More had done to Freckles' hair McLean could -not guess, but it was the most beautiful that he ever had seen. Fine as -floss, bright in color, waving and crisp, it fell around the white face. - -They had gotten his arms into and his chest covered with a finely -embroidered, pale-blue silk shirt, with soft, white tie at the throat. -Among the many changes that had taken place during his absence, the -fact that Freckles was most attractive and barely escaped being handsome -remained almost unnoticed by the Boss, so great was his astonishment at -seeing both cuffs turned back and the right arm in view. Freckles was -using the maimed arm that previously he always had hidden. - -“Oh Lord, sir, but I'm glad to see you!” cried Freckles, almost rolling -from the bed as he reached toward McLean. “Tell me quick, is the Angel -well and happy? Can me Little Chicken spread six feet of wing and -sail to his mother? How's me new father, the Bird Woman, Duncans, and -Nellie--darling little high-stepping Nelie? Me Aunt Alice is going to -choose the hat just as soon as I'm mended enough to be going with her. -How are all the gang? Have they found any more good trees? I've been -thinking a lot, sir. I believe I can find others near that last one. -Me Aunt Alice thinks maybe I can, and Uncle Terence says it's likely. -Golly, but they're nice, ilegant people. I tell you I'm proud to be same -blood with them! Come closer, quick! I was going to do this yesterday, -and somehow I just felt that you'd surely be coming today and I waited. -I'm selecting the Angel's ring stone. The ring she ordered for me is -finished and they sent it to keep me company. See? It's an emerald--just -me color, Lord O'More says.” - -Freckles flourished his hand. - -“Ain't that fine? Never took so much comfort with anything in me life. -Every color of the old swamp is in it. I asked the Angel to have a -little shamrock leaf cut on it, so every time I saw it I'd be thinking -of the 'love, truth, and valor' of that song she was teaching me. Ain't -that a beautiful song? Some of these days I'm going to make it echo. I'm -a little afraid to be doing it with me voice yet, but me heart's tuning -away on it every blessed hour. Will you be looking at these now?” - -Freckles tilted a tray of unset stones from Peacock's that would have -ransomed several valuable kings. He held them toward McLean, stirring -them with his right arm. - -“I tell you I'm glad to see you, sir” he said. “I tried to tell me uncle -what I wanted, but this ain't for him to be mixed up in, anyway, and I -don't think I made it clear to him. I couldn't seem to say the words I -wanted. I can be telling you, sir.” - -McLean's heart began to thump as a lover's. - -“Go on, Freckles,” he said assuringly. - -“It's this,” said Freckles. “I told him that I would pay only three -hundred dollars for the Angel's stone. I'm thinking that with what he -has laid up for me, and the bigness of things that the Angel did for me, -it seems like a stingy little sum to him. I know he thinks I should be -giving much more, but I feel as if I just had to be buying that stone -with money I earned meself; and that is all I have saved of me wages. I -don't mind paying for the muff, or the drexing table, or Mrs. Duncan's -things, from that other money, and later the Angel can have every last -cent of me grandmother's, if she'll take it; but just now--oh, sir, -can't you see that I have to be buying this stone with what I have in -the bank? I'm feeling that I couldn't do any other way, and don't you -think the Angel would rather have the best stone I can buy with the -money I earned meself than a finer one paid for with other money?” - -“In other words, Freckles,” said the Boss in a husky voice, “you don't -want to buy the Angel's ring with money. You want to give for it -your first awful fear of the swamp. You want to pay for it with the -loneliness and heart hunger you have suffered there, with last winter's -freezing on the line and this summer's burning in the sun. You want it -to stand to her for every hour in which you risked your life to fulfill -your contract honorably. You want the price of that stone to be the -fears that have chilled your heart--the sweat and blood of your body.” - -Freckles' eyes were filled with tears and his face quivering with -feeling. - -“Dear Mr. McLean,” he said, reaching with a caress over the Boss's black -hair and his cheek. “Dear Boss, that's why I've wanted you so. I knew -you would know. Now you will be looking at these? I don't want emeralds, -because that's what she gave me.” - -He pushed the green stones into a little heap of rejected ones. Then he -singled out all the pearls. - -“Ain't they pretty things?” he said. “I'll be getting her some of those -later. They are like lily faces, turtle-head flowers, dewdrops in the -shade or moonlight; but they haven't the life in them that I want in the -stone I give to the Angel right now.” - -Freckles heaped the pearls with the emeralds. He studied the diamonds a -long time. - -“These things are so fascinating like they almost tempt one, though they -ain't quite the proper thing,” he said. “I've always dearly loved to be -watching yours, sir. I must get her some of these big ones, too, some -day. They're like the Limberlost in January, when it's all ice-coated, -and the sun is in the west and shines through and makes all you can see -of the whole world look like fire and ice; but fire and ice ain't like -the Angel.” - -The diamonds joined the emeralds and pearls. There was left a little red -heap, and Freckles' fingers touched it with a new tenderness. His eyes -were flashing. - -“I'm thinking here's me Angel's stone,” he exulted. “The Limberlost, and -me with it, grew in mine; but it's going to bloom, and her with it, in -this! There's the red of the wild poppies, the cardinal-flowers, and the -little bunch of crushed foxfire that we found where she put it to save -me. There's the light of the campfire, and the sun setting over Sleepy -Snake Creek. There's the red of the blood we were willing to give for -each other. It's like her lips, and like the drops that dried on her -beautiful arm that first day, and I'm thinking it must be like the -brave, tender, clean, red heart of her.” - -Freckles lifted the ruby to his lips and handed it to McLean. - -“I'll be signing me cheque and you have it set,” he said. “I want you to -draw me money and pay for it with those very same dollars, sir.” - -Again the heart of McLean took hope. - -“Freckles, may I ask you something?” he said. - -“Why, sure,” said Freckles. “There's nothing you would be asking that it -wouldn't be giving me joy to be telling you.” - -McLean's eyes traveled to Freckles' right arm with which he was moving -the jewels. - -“Oh, that!” cried Freckles with a laugh. “You're wanting to know where -all the bitterness is gone? Well sir, 'twas carried from me soul, heart, -and body on the lips of an Angel. Seems that hurt was necessary in the -beginning to make today come true. The wound had always been raw, but -the Angel was healing it. If she doesn't care, I don't. Me dear new -father doesn't, nor me aunt and uncle, and you never did. Why should I -be fretting all me life about what can't be helped. The real truth is, -that since what happened to it last week, I'm so everlastingly proud of -it I catch meself sticking it out on display a bit.” - -Freckles looked the Boss in the eyes and began to laugh. - -“Well thank heaven!” said McLean. - -“Now it's me turn,” said Freckles. “I don't know as I ought to be asking -you, and yet I can't see a reason good enough to keep me from it. It's -a thing I've had on me mind every hour since I've had time to straighten -things out a little. May I be asking you a question?” - -McLean reached over and took Freckles' hand. His voice was shaken with -feeling as he replied: “Freckles, you almost hurt me. Will you never -learn how much you are to me--how happy you make me in coming to me with -anything, no matter what?” - -“Then it's this,” said Freckles, gripping the hand of McLean strongly. -“If this accident, and all that's come to me since, had never happened, -where was it you had planned to send me to school? What was it you meant -for me to do?” - -“Why, Freckles,” answered McLean, “I'm scarcely prepared to state -definitely. My ideas were rather hazy. I thought we would make a -beginning and see which way things went. I figured on taking you to -Grand Rapids first, and putting you in the care of my mother. I had an -idea it would be best to secure a private tutor to coach you for a -year or two, until you were ready to enter Ann Arbor or the Chicago -University in good shape. Then I thought we'd finish in this country at -Yale or Harvard, and end with Oxford, to get a good, all-round flavor.” - -“Is that all?” asked Freckles. - -“No; that's leaving the music out,” said McLean. “I intended to have -your voice tested by some master, and if you really were endowed for a -career as a great musician, and had inclinations that way, I wished to -have you drop some of the college work and make music your chief study. -Finally, I wanted us to take a trip through Europe and clear around the -circle together.” - -“And then what?” queried Freckles breathlessly. - -“Why, then,” said McLean, “you know that my heart is hopelessly in the -woods. I never will quit the timber business while there is timber to -handle and breath in my body. I thought if you didn't make a profession -of music, and had any inclination my way, we would stretch the -partnership one more and take you into the firm, placing your work with -me. Those plans may sound jumbled in the telling, but they have grown -steadily on me, Freckles, as you have grown dear to me.” - -Freckles lifted anxious and eager eyes to McLean. - -“You told me once on the trail, and again when we thought that I was -dying, that you loved me. Do these things that have come to me make any -difference in any way with your feeing toward me?” - -“None,” said McLean. “How could they, Freckles? Nothing could make me -love you more, and you never will do anything that will make me love you -less.” - -“Glory be to God!” cried Freckles. “Glory to the Almighty! Hurry and -be telling your mother I'm coming! Just as soon as I can get on me feet -I'll be taking that ring to me Angel, and then I'll go to Grand Rapids -and be making me start just as you planned, only that I can be paying me -own way. When I'm educated enough, we'll all--the Angel and her father, -the Bird Woman, you, and me--all of us will go together and see me house -and me relations and be taking that trip. When we get back, we'll add -O'More to the Lumber Company, and golly, sir, but we'll make things hum! -Good land, sir! Don't do that! Why, Mr. McLean, dear Boss, dear father, -don't be doing that! What is it?” - -“Nothing, nothing!” boomed McLean's deep bass; “nothing at all!” - -He abruptly turned, and hurried to the window. - -“This is a mighty fine view,” he said. “Lake's beautiful this morning. -No wonder Chicago people are so proud of their city's location on its -shore. But, Freckles, what is Lord O'More going to say to this?” - -“I don't know,” said Freckles. “I am going to be cut deep if he cares, -for he's been more than good to me, and Lady Alice is next to me Angel. -He's made me feel me blood and race me own possession. She's talked to -me by the hour of me father and mother and me grandmother. She's made -them all that real I can lay claim to them and feel that they are mine. -I'm very sorry to be hurting them, if it will, but it can't be changed. -Nobody ever puts the width of the ocean between me and the Angel. From -here to the Limberlost is all I can be bearing peaceable. I want the -education, and then I want to work and live here in the country where I -was born, and where the ashes of me father and mother rest. - -“I'll be glad to see Ireland, and glad especial to see those little -people who are my kin, but I ain't ever staying long. All me heart -is the Angel's, and the Limberlost is calling every minute. You're -thinking, sir, that when I look from that window I see the beautiful -water, ain't you? I'm not. - -“I see soft, slow clouds oozing across the blue, me big black chickens -hanging up there, and a great feather softly sliding down. I see mighty -trees, swinging vines, bright flowers, and always masses of the wild -roses, with the wild rose face of me Ladybird looking through. I see the -swale rocking, smell the sweetness of the blooming things, and the damp, -mucky odor of the swamp; and I hear me birds sing, me squirrels bark, -the rattlers hiss, and the step of Wessner or Black Jack coming; and -whether it's the things that I loved or the things that I feared, it's -all a part of the day. - -“Me heart's all me Swamp Angel's, and me love is all hers, and I have -her and the swamp so confused in me mind I never can be separating them. -When I look at her, I see blue sky, the sun rifting through the leaves -and pink and red flowers; and when I look at the Limberlost I see a pink -face with blue eyes, gold hair, and red lips, and, it's the truth, sir, -they're mixed till they're one to me! - -“I'm afraid it will be hurting some, but I have the feeing that I can be -making my dear people understand, so that they will be willing to let -me come back home. Send Lady O'More to put these flowers God made in the -place of these glass-house ilegancies, and please be cutting the string -of this little package the Angel's sent me.” - -As Freckles held up the package, the lights of the Limberlost flashed -from the emerald on his finger. On the cover was printed: “To the -Limberlost Guard!” Under it was a big, crisp, iridescent black feather. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRECKLES *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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