initial commit of ebook 14079HEADmain

14 files changed, 18562 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/14079-8.txt b/old/14079-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bceb1d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6453 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Sandy
+
+Author: Alice Hegan Rice
+
+Release Date: November 18, 2004  [eBook #14079]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 14079-h.htm or 14079-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h/14079-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h.zip)
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana
+      Digital Library. See http://kdl.kyvl.org
+
+
+
+
+
+SANDY
+
+by
+
+ALICE HEGAN RICE
+
+Author of _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_
+
+New York, The Century Co.
+
+1905
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long
+tan coat and a whit tam-o'-shanter"]
+
+
+
+TO MY AUNT
+
+MISS MARY A. HEGAN
+WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES
+THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ CHAPTER
+
+       I THE STOWAWAY
+      II ON SHIPBOARD
+     III THE CURSE OF WEALTH
+      IV SIDE-TRACKED
+       V SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS
+      VI HOLLIS FARM
+     VII CONVALESCENCE
+    VIII AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER
+      IX TRANSITION
+       X WATERLOO
+      XI "THE LIGHT THAT LIES"
+     XII ANTICIPATION
+    XIII THE COUNTY FAIR
+     XIV A COUNCIL OF WAR
+      XV HELL AND HEAVEN
+     XVI THE NELSON HOME
+    XVII UNDER THE WILLOWS
+   XVIII THE VICTIM
+     XIX THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER
+      XX THE IRONY OF CHANCE
+     XXI IN THE DARK
+    XXII AT WILLOWVALE
+   XXIII "THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"
+    XXIV THE PRIMROSE WAY
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a
+white tam-o-shanter" Frontispiece
+
+"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption"
+
+"He smiled away his debt of gratitude"
+
+"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"
+
+"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"
+
+"Sandy saw her waver"
+
+"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE STOWAWAY
+
+
+An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half
+enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their
+moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim
+determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the
+morning.
+
+But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise stopped.
+The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented by the
+temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and everybody
+seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length on the quay
+and earnestly studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make
+up its mind which way to point.
+
+He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by the
+tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his legs were
+crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness in the face
+of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes too large, was
+held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, and his trousers
+were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of yellow twine. The
+indolence of his position, however, was not indicative of the state of
+his mind; for under his weather-beaten old cap, perched sidewise on a
+tousled head, was a commotion of dreams and schemes, ambitions and
+plans, whose activities would have put to shame the busiest wharf in
+the world.
+
+"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a
+brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You
+don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind
+every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"
+
+The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of thought
+that descended upon him when he was actually face to face with his
+decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell through his
+brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most insistent, but he
+brushed them aside.
+
+The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of the
+lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and inside was
+the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames went roaring
+up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and fairies held high
+carnival. There was a big chair on each side the hearth, and between
+them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on the arms of it. That
+was the clearest of all. There were persons in the large chairs, one a
+silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, must have been his father,
+and the other--oh, tricky memory that faltered when he wanted it to be
+so clear!--was the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came
+back to haunt a lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that
+her eyes were blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear
+the ring of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft
+drone of her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who
+told him about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the
+peat-flames. He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek
+against it when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go
+out, like a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could
+make it come back, and sometimes he could not.
+
+After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held the
+silent father and the merry mother and the little white house on the
+heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary homes with
+relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools and unceasing
+work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded by some
+injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and struck out
+alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been a rough
+experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; but
+through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his mouth.
+
+For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up jobs
+here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be accommodated,
+making many friends and little money. He had had no thought of
+embarking until the big English liner _Great Britain_ arrived in port
+after breaking all records on her homeward passage. She was to start
+on her second trip to-day, and an hour later her rival, the steamship
+_America_, was to take her departure. The relative merits of the two
+vessels had been the talk of the wharf for days.
+
+Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was
+happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had answered
+the call of fire at midnight, and tramped ten miles to see the finish
+of a great regatta. But something was about to take place which seemed
+entirely beyond his attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the
+problem.
+
+"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied a
+stick at Sandy's shins.
+
+Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a smile
+that waited for an answer and usually got it--a smile so brimming over
+with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a lover of a friend
+and a friend of an enemy.
+
+"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as he
+jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and may
+the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'."
+
+He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his
+pockets, executed a brief but brilliant _pas seul_, and then went
+whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, his rags
+fluttering, his chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one
+direction, and the weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their
+minds.
+
+The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little
+chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his head
+for everybody."
+
+The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never come to
+naught."
+
+Two days later, the _America_, cutting her way across the Atlantic,
+carried one more passenger than she registered. In the big life-boat
+swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, snugly concealed by
+the heavy canvas covering.
+
+He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, and had
+boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light housekeeping. The
+apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, for the only light
+came through a tiny aperture where the canvas was tucked back. At this
+end Sandy attended to his domestic duties.
+
+Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law requires
+every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to these was
+Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of bread, a bag
+of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the boat was
+utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving as the bed,
+and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as a pillow.
+
+There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an energetic,
+restless youngster who had never been in one place so long before in
+his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to lie down or
+crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all his life, and
+this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. Besides, he could
+steal out at night and, by being very careful and still, manage to
+avoid the night watch.
+
+The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin deck
+and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he was too much
+afraid of discovery to listen to what they were saying, but later his
+interest outweighed his fear. For they were evidently lovers, and
+Sandy was at that inflammable age when to hear mention of love is
+dangerous and to see a manifestation of it absolute contagion. When
+the great question came, his heart waited for the answer. Perhaps it
+was the added weight of his unspoken influence that turned the scale.
+She said yes. During the silence that followed, Sandy, unable to
+restrain his joy, threw his arms about a life-preserver and embraced
+it fervently.
+
+When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On the
+deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, and on
+the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest of his
+life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one that he
+found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay behind the
+peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning he read it,
+with his head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can.
+Twice he reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where
+he had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the
+golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more peep.
+
+It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels passing
+fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. Story after
+story he devoured, until he came to the best one of all. It told of a
+beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who was girt with a
+cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she might not be
+delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing good name both of
+his lands and deeds. And after that all the great knights had striven
+in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a poor knight, poorly
+arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay it, but was abashed. At
+last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to
+ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel,
+worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and
+worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the
+sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily.
+
+And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner,
+and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer,
+and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below.
+Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like the head of
+a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled him for a moment,
+then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. There, just ahead,
+was the _Great Britain_ under full way, valiantly striving to hold her
+record against the oncoming steamer.
+
+Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, her
+smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. The
+Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. There
+were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every
+minute. Inch by inch the _America_ gained upon her, until they were
+bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from both
+steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of handkerchiefs.
+Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner." Sandy
+gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes floating overhead,
+and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped to his feet in the
+boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, waved the tattered banner
+in the face of the vanquished _Great Britain_, as he sent up yell
+after yell of victory for the land of his adoption.
+
+[Illustration: "He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of
+his adoption"]
+
+Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the deck.
+Over him stood the deck steward.
+
+"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I guess
+the cap'n will be wantin' to see you."
+
+Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned from the height of patriotic
+frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck steward not been familiar
+with stowaways, he doubtless would have been moved by the flood of
+eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought to bear.
+
+As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the long
+line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage deck,
+where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay there until
+he was sent for.
+
+Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at from
+above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his nails until
+the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the tears. He was
+cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of sinister
+thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing.
+
+Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking up, he
+saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white
+tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He only knew that her eyes
+were brown and that she was sorry for him, but it changed his world.
+He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an ardent smile of gratitude
+that she melted from the railing like a snowflake under the kiss of
+the sun.
+
+Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new
+interest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ON SHIPBOARD
+
+
+The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat heavily upon
+the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the joys of society.
+Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not be allowed to land,
+but would be sent back by the first steamer, were made all the more
+unbearable by his first experience with illness. He had accepted his
+fate and prepared to die when the ship's surgeon found him.
+
+The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded Sandy
+to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little man; and
+when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen suit, his face
+beaming from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was
+not unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their
+sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through.
+
+He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his right
+hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit broken
+and his courage low.
+
+"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?"
+
+"Sandy Kilday."
+
+"Scotch, eh?"
+
+"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy.
+
+"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get some
+air, and then go back and do it right."
+
+He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him against
+the railing. That was when he laughed.
+
+"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right soon; we
+have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester."
+
+"A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag its tail so gay," said
+Sandy, trying to smile.
+
+The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want something to
+eat?"
+
+Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all the
+authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was Jonah I
+used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the whale."
+
+The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a
+sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even more
+to prolong the friendly conversation.
+
+"How many more days have we got, sir?"
+
+"Five; but there's the return trip for you."
+
+Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' back!" he
+cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched forward. "I'm goin'
+to be an American. I am goin'--" Further declarations as to his
+future policy were cut short.
+
+From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even took up
+a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His professional
+services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a speedy recovery
+from his maritime troubles.
+
+"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on his
+rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before."
+
+The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to get a
+boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who promptly
+embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the profession
+as well. He entered into his new work with such energy and enthusiasm
+that by the end of the week he knew every man below the cabin deck. So
+expeditious did he become that he found many idle moments in which to
+cultivate acquaintances.
+
+His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage,
+selected not for congeniality, but for his unlimited knowledge of all
+things terrestrial, from the easiest way of making a fortune to the
+best way of spending it. He was a short, heavy-set fellow of some
+eighteen years. His hair grew straight up from an overhanging
+forehead, under which two small eyes seemed always to be furtively
+watching each other over the bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips
+met with difficulty across large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks
+Wilson, the most unprepossessing soul on board the good ship
+_America_.
+
+"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the
+smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a
+wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I
+lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in
+my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to New York,
+works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and gits enough
+dough to pay my way back. Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they
+ain't even on to street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home
+than I do in a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we
+land?"
+
+Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said.
+
+Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer.
+
+"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't hop
+the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to say."
+
+"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than ever,
+now that he was sure of an ally.
+
+"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer.
+
+Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've just
+lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on that I'm
+after."
+
+"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?"
+
+"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it ain't in me to give 'em the
+slip now I know 'em. Then there's the doctor--"
+
+"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. Goes
+round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as mean as
+the--"
+
+Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled in
+Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and
+pommeled him soundly.
+
+"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' and
+makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one time
+more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to break
+every bone in your skin!"
+
+There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller boy
+off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the second
+mate.
+
+Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious glance at
+the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since that first
+day, of looking up; but this was the first time that he was glad she
+was not there. Only once had he caught sight of a white tam and a tan
+coat, and that was when they were being conducted hastily below by a
+sympathetic stewardess.
+
+But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already had.
+On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a secluded
+corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards with the
+green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. The fact
+that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's surgeon in
+no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding forth into the
+world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel in distress.
+
+So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making
+rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always
+rhymed with skies--and they were brown.
+
+Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck and
+sing. A black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would
+strike a pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German
+would remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty
+drinking-song. Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle
+joined in the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing
+with the loudest and telling his story with the best.
+
+"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a woman
+one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was taken up and
+repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to
+the front. Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an
+acute attack of stage fright.
+
+"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him.
+
+"Can't ye remember none?" asked another.
+
+"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end
+first."
+
+Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood
+nervously picking at the strings. He might have been standing there
+still had not the moon come to his rescue. It climbed slowly out of
+the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across
+the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot himself and the crowd. The
+stream of mystical romance that flows through the veins of every true
+Irishman was never lacking in Sandy. His heart responded to the
+beautiful as surely as the echo answers the call.
+
+He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, faltering
+fingers, sang:
+
+    "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted,
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the refrain to
+an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in the very
+essence of mystery and love.
+
+    "As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!--
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the
+bright red of her lips as they framed the words:
+
+    "Wan was her cheek which hung on my shoulder;
+    Chill was her hand, no marble was colder;
+    I felt that again I should never behold her;
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came from
+the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He did not
+know why, but he was sorry he had sung.
+
+The next morning the _America_ sailed into New York harbor, band
+playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a
+jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over
+what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the steerage
+all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the disembarking.
+
+Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and
+distressed as a young hound restrained from the hunt. It is something
+to accept punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can
+be avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and
+grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him in
+brave array across the water lay the promised land--and, like Moses,
+he was not to reach it.
+
+"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon as he
+came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of it?"
+
+"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, amazed.
+
+"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked the
+doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his cheeks.
+
+"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word of
+honor I'd give you that I'd come back."
+
+"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still smiling.
+
+In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't a
+liar!"
+
+The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my man;
+not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?"
+
+Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one ambition of
+his life.
+
+"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New York.
+He's a good fellow. He'd put you through--give you work and put you in
+the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like that?"
+
+"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go back!"
+
+The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your passage."
+
+Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was taken in,
+then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted him off his
+feet.
+
+"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding earnestly: "It
+ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay it back, so help me
+bob!"
+
+At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and crowded impatiently as
+they waited for the cabin passengers to go ashore. Among them was
+Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, laughing and shoving with the
+best of them, hanging over the railing, and keeping up a fire of
+merriment at the expense of the crowd below. In his hand was a letter
+of recommendation to the physician in charge at the City Hospital, and
+in his inside pocket a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that
+had not a care in the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one
+of the bubbles that are apt to come to the top.
+
+"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson,
+resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then
+git a payin' job at the racetrack."
+
+"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" asked
+Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome.
+
+On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship.
+Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted.
+Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the
+damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big
+drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely
+tied at the back of her neck.
+
+Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born lover,
+lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon
+whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm just to stand aside
+and look. He liked the way she carried her head; he liked the way her
+eyes went up a little at the outer corners, and the round, soft curve
+of her chin. She was gazing steadfastly ahead of her down the
+gang-plank, and he ventured a step nearer and continued his
+observations. As he did so, he made a discovery. The soft white of her
+cheek was gradually becoming pinker and pinker; the color which began
+under her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes,
+which still gazed determinedly before her.
+
+Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as little
+idea of having caused it.
+
+The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank.
+Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. On
+one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, U.S.A."
+He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned eagerly back
+into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized Ricks by the arm.
+
+"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you to
+Kentucky!"
+
+So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the will-o'-the-wisp
+love, and started joyously forth upon his quest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE CURSE OF WEALTH
+
+
+It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity there
+is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no exception to
+any rule which went to prove the frailty of human nature. The sudden
+acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a whirlpool of temptation
+from which he made little effort to escape.
+
+"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in my
+goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me."
+
+Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and
+unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down the
+street. After all, it was rather pleasant to associate with
+sophistication.
+
+"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and I'll
+mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show or two.
+It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me along."
+
+Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of the
+day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's condescension.
+
+"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they stopped
+under a street light to take stock.
+
+Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece.
+
+"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said as he
+curiously eyed the strange money.
+
+"One, two,--two and a half," counted Ricks.
+
+"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed.
+
+Ricks nodded.
+
+"And have I blowed all that to-day?"
+
+"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar
+with a bill like the one you had!"
+
+"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy,
+incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally
+conducted tour of the Bowery.
+
+"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on settin'
+up biz with what's left."
+
+Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. "Now I
+ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said.
+
+"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know
+mighty quick what to do."
+
+"What?" said Sandy, eagerly.
+
+"Buy a dawg."
+
+"A dog? I ain't goin' blind."
+
+"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I s'pose
+you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon."
+
+"Oh, you mean a fighter?"
+
+"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game she
+went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's money
+in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time."
+
+Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon going
+in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming the proud
+owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately into the
+position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note.
+
+The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far to
+realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought in
+partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer days
+the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and by night
+they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an opponent could
+be found.
+
+Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly
+sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the sale of
+blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling testimonials
+in his wake.
+
+But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be said
+of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog failed
+to keep up his enthusiasm.
+
+"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your trouble.
+When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and listened at a'
+ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley."
+
+Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was so.
+
+Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the outskirts of
+a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy discovered Ricks
+judiciously administering a sedative to the enemy's dog.
+
+Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. With a
+valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled himself
+through the crowd and fell upon Ricks.
+
+An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along
+through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly ignorant
+of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was indeed in sorry
+plight.
+
+He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, cool
+grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the ground. A
+gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star peeped out,
+then another and another. Before he knew it, he was listening to the
+frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were talking about. He
+ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and gave himself up to the
+delicious, drowsy peace that was all about him. For, child of nature
+that he was, he had turned to the only mother he knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SIDE-TRACKED
+
+
+The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate cattleman
+was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of live stock
+which was on its way to a great exposition in a neighboring city. The
+man he had counted on had not appeared, and the train was about due.
+
+As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his elbow.
+Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance that
+resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one cheek
+was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of drawing, the
+eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun from behind the
+clouds. But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the
+less courageous.
+
+Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring farm-house,
+had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, and was ready
+for the next round in the fight of life.
+
+"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said pleasantly.
+
+The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent.
+
+"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the cattle.
+My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think you can do
+it?"
+
+"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I can!"
+
+So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great city
+with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the morning.
+
+Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he sought a
+cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking
+lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and
+suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the
+ceiling.
+
+"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little
+and the lid so tight!"
+
+He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the
+sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, cabs and
+cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights marking the
+thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big station, and above and
+below and through it all a dull monotonous roar, like the faraway
+unceasing cry of a hungry beast.
+
+He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look came
+into his eyes.
+
+"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. I'm just
+me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down his grimy
+cheek, then another and another. He brushed them impatiently away with
+the cap he still held in his hand.
+
+Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of
+the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the chimney,
+and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection in a small
+mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had left undone
+the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that the boy he knew
+as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to America to seek his
+fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated horror at that other boy in
+the mirror. Before he had been afraid to be by himself, now he was
+afraid of himself.
+
+He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four flights
+of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of people were
+crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, ever a straw in
+the current, joined them. Once more down among his fellow-men, he
+began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid his entrance fee
+with one of the two silver coins in his pocket.
+
+The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first
+picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it all
+the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and oblivious
+to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge canvas
+represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at last found
+friends.
+
+All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until he
+reached his room that the former loneliness returned.
+
+But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered around
+the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for admittance. It was
+plainly Providence that guided that thin and ill-treated kitten to
+Sandy's window. The welcome it received must have completely restored
+its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as he was, Sandy went out and
+bought some milk. He wanted to establish a firm friendship; for if he
+was to stay in this lonely city, he must have something to love, if
+only a prodigal kitten of doubtful pedigree.
+
+During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully at the
+depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly irksome after
+the bohemian life on the road.
+
+The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great to
+enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of the
+Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of wonderful
+pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a natural
+curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the names of the
+artists he liked best, and the bits of biography attached to each. He
+would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little
+hot-box of a room.
+
+One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big
+building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it was a
+great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play. With his
+cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle
+and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to
+be coming from his own heart.
+
+"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the
+aisle."
+
+A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow.
+
+"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether he
+was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that he
+could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a shiver of
+joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's turn.
+
+When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer lady:
+
+"Do they do it every night?"
+
+She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays."
+
+"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if you come first do you save me
+a seat, and I'll do the same by you."
+
+From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on two
+scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts.
+
+But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon became
+irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily upon him,
+he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As he tramped
+back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of him. There
+was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the peddler's pack
+strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy bounded after Ricks
+Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be once more with some
+one he knew.
+
+Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye.
+
+Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, Ricks; a
+miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's straight home
+with me you are goin'; and if we can get the two feet of you into me
+bit of a room, we'll have a dinner that's fit for a king."
+
+On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going to
+the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks.
+
+The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of
+hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly
+demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy
+extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment.
+
+"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll get ye
+filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the cat, Ricks.
+She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give me the wink on
+the sly."
+
+Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became
+eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and outlined
+marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to make a
+short cut to fame and glory.
+
+When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For
+two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had to
+go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound rating
+for his belated appearance.
+
+"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully.
+
+"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky."
+
+The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly swung
+it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little maid of his
+dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds and followed
+the vision.
+
+Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a bundle,
+and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he gladly followed
+Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, along the white and
+shining roads that lead over the hills to Kentucky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS
+
+
+"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly night in
+late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack and settled
+up their weekly accounts.
+
+"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a quarter fer
+you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin split it."
+
+"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, hopefully, as
+he pulled his coat collar about his ears and shivered. "The man as
+sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain entirely. He thought
+there was money in 'em."
+
+"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. "It's like the man what gulled
+us on the penknives. I lay to git even with him, all right."
+
+"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said Sandy.
+
+Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it before
+him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine good
+turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all out. I got
+to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes me all my
+life."
+
+"But don't you forget to remember?"
+
+"Not me. I ain't that kind."
+
+Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter himself
+from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made him
+sensitive to the changes in the weather.
+
+"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, trying
+to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them have
+three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard.
+
+Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to
+remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict
+principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate.
+
+"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of a
+more cheerful companion.
+
+"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of this
+here doin's."
+
+"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by the
+hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had accepted
+Ricks's ambition as his own.
+
+"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks.
+
+Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in the
+hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to
+catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.
+
+It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through
+village after village.
+
+They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were
+soaked to the skin.
+
+Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could
+look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of
+a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling
+through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in
+every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and
+in every pane of glass that faced the west.
+
+"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the
+matter with the feller?"
+
+A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between
+the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to
+rise.
+
+"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy
+stopped.
+
+"Get a fall?" he asked.
+
+The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have
+ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head
+against a tree and closed his eyes.
+
+Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his
+riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting.
+
+"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting the
+horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?"
+
+Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle.
+
+"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a lift to
+the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and before Ricks
+had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I believe I will
+take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the contents and then
+handed a coin to Ricks.
+
+"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank you
+very much."
+
+"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks.
+
+"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from backing.
+
+"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks.
+
+"Circus, I believe."
+
+"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried Sandy.
+"Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!"
+
+Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow before,
+Ricks?"
+
+"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet yer
+life he knowed how to hit the bottle."
+
+"He was sick," urged Sandy.
+
+"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom.
+
+The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that they
+decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the street
+corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while Sandy
+stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the show had
+been of short duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed
+to be buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp
+clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head against
+the wall.
+
+"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the counter, as
+she tied up his small package.
+
+"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said Sandy
+through chattering teeth.
+
+"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You wait
+here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee."
+
+She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with a
+small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a
+half, then he asked the price.
+
+"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't know
+which side of the Ohio River you're on!"
+
+Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and started on
+his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he found Ricks,
+who had rented a stand and was already arranging his wares. Sandy
+knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket.
+
+"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he exclaimed
+ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the microscopes, Ricks."
+
+"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," said
+Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round."
+
+As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, and a
+purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in the
+proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently to
+enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes.
+
+At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. The
+light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks Wilson,
+black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full on Sandy,
+who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his broad,
+straight shoulders and on his shining tumbled hair; but it was not
+the light of the torch that gave the brightness to his eyes and the
+flush to his cheek. His head was throbbing, but he felt a curious
+sense of elation. He felt that he could stand there and talk the rest
+of his life. He made the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it
+buy. He told stories and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until
+only a few microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with
+silver.
+
+"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought to have
+a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make a dime
+look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold piece. Step
+right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two looks, and fifteen
+for the microscope."
+
+Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized two
+faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in feature
+and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the afternoon was
+impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind him
+was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer
+corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene.
+
+"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this
+Kentucky?"
+
+"Yep; we crossed the line to-day."
+
+"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. I'm
+sick."
+
+It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and making
+him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never been born. It
+was shame and humiliation, and all because of the look on the face of
+the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in the shadow of the big box
+and fought his fight. The coffee and the excitement no longer kept him
+up; he was faint, and his breath came short. Above him he heard
+Ricks's rasping voice still talking to the few customers who were
+left. He knew, without glancing up, just how Ricks looked when he said
+the words; he knew how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his
+restless little eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce
+repulsion swept over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself.
+
+"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I can't
+ever speak to a girl like that!"
+
+Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to follow the
+circus, which was to be in the next town on the following day.
+
+"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready to open
+early in the morning."
+
+Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed instructions.
+His head was getting queerer all the time, and he could not remember
+whether it was day or night. About a mile from Clayton he sank down by
+the road.
+
+"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' peddlin'."
+
+"What you goin' to do?"
+
+"I'm goin' to school."
+
+If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes and
+being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more
+astonished.
+
+"What?" he asked in genuine doubt.
+
+"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, passionately.
+"This ain't the way you get to be the right sort."
+
+Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' along
+of me or not?"
+
+"I can't," said Sandy, weakly.
+
+Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a backward
+look he left his business partner of three months lying by the
+roadside, and tramped away in the darkness.
+
+Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no
+strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew there
+was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking about
+microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again that he
+couldn't ever speak to a girl like that.
+
+After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must have
+gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a great black
+witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt about in the grass
+for the tender, soft hand which he used to press against his cheek. He
+found instead the hand of the witch herself, and he drew back in
+terror.
+
+"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a kindly
+voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent over him,
+her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her shoulders.
+
+"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him anxiously.
+
+Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap and
+microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he was
+talking at random, but he could not say the things he thought.
+
+"Where'd you come from, boy?"
+
+"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, aghast.
+"I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif yer Aunt
+Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my shoulder; dat's
+right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer bundle. It ain't
+fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side of de hill. Dey calls
+it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber would 'a' thought of
+puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer mammy. I'll git dem old
+cunjers outen you."
+
+Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the dark, up
+a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then into a tiny
+log cabin, where he dropped exhausted.
+
+Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the room,
+and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all so queer
+and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left off and the
+real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to
+the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned on
+the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise and fall
+with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with the pain in
+his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the chant changed
+into a soothing murmur:
+
+"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. She
+gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; she'll
+git dem old cunjers out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HOLLIS FARM
+
+
+Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the
+enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the north,
+but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go around.
+
+Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple boughs,
+was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term applied to
+all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were designated by
+the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist church," "the
+street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to Judge Hollis's," or
+"the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In the heart of the town
+was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the new and
+formidable jail, the post-office and church.
+
+For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged over
+the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed with
+never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When any one
+was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the doctor, who was
+as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a familiar joke in
+Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and that the wheels always
+ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter Nelson had taken too much
+egg-nog and his aunt thought he had spinal meningitis, the usual route
+had been reversed, and again when the blacksmith's triplets were born.
+But these were especial occasions. It was a matter for investigation
+when the doctor's buggy went over the bridge before noon.
+
+"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller.
+
+The doctor stopped the buggy to explain.
+
+He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The
+hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing
+contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great
+catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling
+arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short volleys,
+in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a megaphone.
+
+"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?"
+
+"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that there boy
+has got anything ketchin'?"
+
+"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he
+demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one of
+smallpox--that's my record, sir!"
+
+"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller,
+apologetically.
+
+A little farther on the doctor was stopped again--this time by a
+maiden in a pink-and-white gingham, with a mass of light curls
+bobbing about her face.
+
+"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you g-going,
+dad?"
+
+The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but she
+pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled herself up
+on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face through the
+window at the back.
+
+"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen years
+old, and a tomboy! Get down!"
+
+"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed.
+
+"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!"
+
+Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the small
+window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his side.
+
+The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As a colonel of the Confederacy
+he had exacted strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, but he
+now found himself ignominiously reduced to the ranks, and another
+Fenton in command.
+
+At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and
+loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. He
+wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers elaborately
+embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features were softened
+by an expression of indulgent interest toward the world at large.
+
+"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this morning?"
+
+"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the fence.
+
+"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good
+Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought him
+to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever."
+
+"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and the
+bridge last night."
+
+"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged from the
+buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light hair? Or is he
+b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?"
+
+The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about the
+boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have noticing the
+color of a peddler's eyes?"
+
+Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls noticed
+him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart and f-funny
+as could be."
+
+"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a grim
+laugh.
+
+The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door
+they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed
+protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were
+drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a
+gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise
+to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company,
+since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one
+eye-tooth of one color and the other of another.
+
+"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No,
+don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business
+for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general
+cleaning-day, too?"
+
+"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge,
+playfully.
+
+"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to
+the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:
+
+"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I
+can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a
+hospital."
+
+"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad
+out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have
+to stay."
+
+"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.
+
+But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question
+about it.
+
+"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he
+gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved
+now."
+
+"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would
+let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs.
+Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and
+the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and
+never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs
+mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!"
+
+Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway,
+looking very grave.
+
+"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs.
+Hollis.
+
+The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly
+verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about
+the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress
+ripped at the belt, her hair flying.
+
+"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could
+manage her all right."
+
+The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth,
+to the flying figure on the lawn.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette.
+
+That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room,
+she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.
+
+"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?"
+
+"The what?"
+
+"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I
+knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."
+
+"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of
+nursing and bother for me."
+
+The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, "you
+needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, and I will
+look after him at night."
+
+Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing her
+mind.
+
+"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively.
+
+"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis.
+
+After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a steaming bowl
+of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her first step had
+been to have the patient bathed and combed and made presentable for
+the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been with rebellion of
+spirit that she placed him there, but the judge had taken one of those
+infrequent stands which she knew it was useless to resist. She put the
+tray on a table near the big four-poster bed, and leaned over to look
+at the sleeper.
+
+Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips
+parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred.
+
+"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in spite
+of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped her arm
+under the pillow and raised his head.
+
+"You must eat," she said kindly.
+
+He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness flitted over
+his face, a vague realization that he was being cared for. He put up a
+hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, rallying all his
+strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It was over in a
+moment, and he sank back unconscious.
+
+[Illustration: "He smiled away his debt of gratitude"]
+
+Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the bed,
+nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless woman can
+know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the judge slept in
+peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a series of long, loud,
+and unmelodious snores.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CONVALESCENCE
+
+
+"Is that the Nelson phaëton going out the road?" asked Mrs. Hollis as
+she peered out through the dining-room window one morning. "I
+shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson making her yearly
+visits, and here my bricks haven't been reddened."
+
+Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the first
+time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his close-cropped
+head. All through his illness he had been tortured by the thought that
+he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses could not have dragged
+forth a question concerning her.
+
+"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the sideboard
+with some unsavory furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here,
+you be sure to put on your white apron before you open the door; and
+for pity sake don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better
+than to stick out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you
+about that last week."
+
+Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, dat's
+right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de judge is
+got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade yer Miss Sue
+not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid
+dat ole sunbonnet on?'"
+
+"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do
+them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to
+let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech
+work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha
+walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it."
+
+"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the
+side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a
+book with the other."
+
+"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she
+even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and
+smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a
+hypocrite."
+
+Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long
+convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little
+room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors.
+When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired
+to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he
+would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door.
+
+Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of
+needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one
+ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her
+shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness.
+
+Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to
+have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was
+three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by
+wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to
+his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would
+see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny
+broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist
+Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open
+gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It
+had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was
+the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons.
+When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm
+and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow
+to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little
+man lovingly on the head and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha
+walk with him to the gate and throw kisses after him until he turned
+the curve in the road.
+
+Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and a
+long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when she
+came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and kissed her
+on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of watching for her
+at the side window where she came to study. He leaned forward now to
+see if she were there.
+
+"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There
+comes the Nelson phaëton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron.
+I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door."
+
+"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors.
+
+"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy,
+nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the
+front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I
+b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she
+an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to
+speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his
+grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze
+outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like
+none ob dem Nelsons; she favors her maw. She's quality inside an'
+out."
+
+A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. Aunt
+Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. At the
+front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the Nelsons in
+calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her acceptance.
+Too late she remembered her instructions.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, "ef I ain't done fergit
+dat pan ag'in!"
+
+Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every nerve
+a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she was here
+under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding through his
+veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket behind him, made
+his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up the back stairs.
+
+Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new suit of
+clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had bought him two
+days before. He had sat before it in speechless admiration; he had
+hung it in every possible light to get the full benefit of its beauty;
+he had even in the night placed it on a chair beside the bed, so that
+he could put out his hand in the dark and make sure it was there. For
+it was the first new suit of clothes that he remembered ever to have
+possessed. He had not intended to wear it until Sunday, but the
+psychological moment had arrived.
+
+With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his toilet.
+He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with pride. The
+suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his shaven head
+gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy the reflection
+was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to be lacking. He
+meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, picked up a small linen
+doily from the dresser, and carefully folding it, placed it in his
+breast-pocket, with one corner just visible.
+
+Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back steps,
+skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the house just
+as the Nelson phaëton rolled out of the yard. Before he had time to
+give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon,
+for the phaëton stopped, and there was evidently something the matter.
+Sandy did not wait for it to be remedied. He ran down the road with
+all the speed he could muster.
+
+Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a
+slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaëton had slipped over the
+edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, sitting
+indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had evidently
+attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and unexpected
+seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic architecture; a
+massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic eyebrows which
+flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. Her mouth, with its
+drooping corners, completed the series of arches, and the whole
+expression was one of aspiring melancholy and injured majesty.
+
+Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from her
+hands, was Ruth Nelson.
+
+"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving breathless.
+
+The girl looked up and shook her head in smiling protest, but the
+Gothic lady promptly suffered a relapse.
+
+"I am--I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, and my
+glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!"
+
+Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy.
+
+"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the seat."
+
+Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the object of
+his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft ball he drew it
+forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman nose.
+
+She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh startled
+her.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to
+restrain her mirth.
+
+Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition would
+permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may be
+internally injured." She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that
+phaëton back on the road?"
+
+Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the background,
+came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made several ineffectual
+efforts to lift it back to the road.
+
+"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from above.
+"Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a little more
+strength?"
+
+Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still
+smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it had
+been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and finally, with
+a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in the mud and
+lifted the phaëton back on the road.
+
+Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and
+struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him.
+
+"Why--why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in dismay.
+
+Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's me
+bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps.
+
+Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaëton, and taking a piece of money
+from her purse, held it out to him.
+
+"That will amply repay you," she said.
+
+Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip,
+heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. Angry,
+impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step forward. Then
+he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had just stepped into
+the phaëton. She shot a quick, indignant look at her aunt, then turned
+around and smiled a good-by to him.
+
+He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs.
+Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the avenue.
+
+Sandy went wearily back to the house. He had made his first trial in
+behalf of his lady fair, but his soul knew no elation. His beautiful
+new armor had sustained irreparable injury, and his vanity had
+received a mortal wound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER
+
+
+It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west from
+Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached the
+barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clung
+to the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of a
+tree.
+
+In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair,
+and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting the
+revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed
+tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the
+water to boil.
+
+"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start him
+in plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up
+right along."
+
+"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said
+Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. They
+say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."
+
+"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it over
+Miss Sue lak he done."
+
+"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint color
+coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descanting
+upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he would
+help him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only a
+little while before he was up with the other boys."
+
+"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he's
+going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"
+
+Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was he
+ever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him
+somewhere, and I can't think where."
+
+"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliest
+face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back of
+the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up over
+the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and he
+swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse."
+
+"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--he
+was a peddler."
+
+"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it's
+no sign I am not g-going to."
+
+Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair of
+squeaking old bellows.
+
+Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what's
+going to happen?" she asked timidly.
+
+"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she was
+g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her aunt
+died and left her a turquoise-ring!"
+
+"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light her
+pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what made
+me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit.
+I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazed
+with fixed eyes out of the window.
+
+"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.
+
+"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards in
+my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little green
+lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit,
+Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowed
+better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dream
+say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in a
+barrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so
+I done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my
+purple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de
+lizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."
+
+"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves.
+Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! She
+kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' as
+putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burned
+down now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fust
+come here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know no
+more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus'
+tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will
+fergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married.
+George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an'
+sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."
+
+"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.
+
+"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from the
+crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then with
+great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the water
+over them.
+
+Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drained
+the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.
+
+"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blue
+eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."
+
+Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be a
+farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwine
+raise chickens an' chillun."
+
+"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?"
+
+Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he's
+sorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said.
+
+"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."
+
+"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly.
+
+"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few broken
+leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune.
+Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey say
+ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death."
+
+"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.
+
+"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn you
+to carry dat good-luck bag all de time."
+
+"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile.
+
+For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep
+consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with
+fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a
+sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.
+
+"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an old
+maid?"
+
+"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the
+superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I
+see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!"
+
+"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.
+
+Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space,
+swaying and moaning.
+
+"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lak
+dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de two
+poles an' de cross-beam."
+
+Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.
+
+"Is it for me?"
+
+"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit's
+in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."
+
+By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Her
+face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness and
+slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered.
+
+"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness.
+Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged,
+any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."
+
+Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwine
+make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holds
+water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 't
+ain't safe."
+
+And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost to
+view behind the hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+TRANSITION
+
+
+The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a
+struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the
+strange language, were baffling.
+
+The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him to
+inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the
+astonishing report that she was sixty-one.
+
+"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified.
+
+Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he declared.
+
+Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he
+said, to bring a smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he
+sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings.
+
+"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. "De
+same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some
+day."
+
+"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head.
+Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me
+figurin'."
+
+"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's what I
+always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. Nelson's. I
+done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter say, 'You fool
+nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you don't ax
+questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, umph; you
+don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense I ain't
+got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet an' go
+switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob
+buttermilk."
+
+"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. Moseley
+was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week when ye
+went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went round the
+other."
+
+Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day outen de
+week? Where'd he say you lost it at?"
+
+Sandy shook his head in perplexity.
+
+"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se
+s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem
+teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you pay
+'em no mind."
+
+But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice about
+asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition until he
+mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to distinguish the
+difference between himself and those about him. The words and phrases
+that had passed current on the street seemed to ring false here. He
+watched the judge covertly and took notes.
+
+His progress at the academy was a singular succession of triumphs and
+failures. His natural quickness, together with an enthusiastic
+ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place among the boys
+of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits and an inordinate
+love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit side of his school
+ledger. There were many times when he exasperated the judge to the
+limit of endurance, for he was reckless and impulsive, charged to the
+exploding-point with vitality, and ever and always the victim of his
+last caprice; but when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a
+question fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right,
+even though it proved him guilty.
+
+At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining on the
+farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a heretofore
+unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and efficiently
+attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of toil";
+and when he despatched his various chores and did even more than was
+required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated.
+
+It was something more, however, than his ability and service that won
+her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy around her, as a
+rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, exuberant nature made no
+distinction: he swept over her, sharp edges and all; he teased her,
+coaxed her, petted her, laughed at her, turned her tirades with a bit
+of blarney, and in the end won her in spite of herself.
+
+"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared him
+puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den I
+knows dey are learnin' somethin'."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+WATERLOO
+
+
+It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached his
+junior year that his real achievement was put to the test.
+
+After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had seen
+Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at boarding-school,
+and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She was still the
+divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that always brought
+him back to the straight course. He looked upon her possible
+recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward in heaven.
+In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by less distant
+joys.
+
+The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he
+was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his
+reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it.
+
+One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with their
+books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward toward
+vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha relentlessly,
+beating out her frail strength, and leaving her weaker to combat each
+incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored hair lay smooth about her
+delicate face, and in her eyes was the strained look of one who seeks
+but is destined never to attain.
+
+"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, "just
+to make sure you understand."
+
+"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in the
+grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin and
+the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here.
+Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?"
+
+She nodded, and he went on:
+
+"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even think out
+in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the river, I'd
+never be minding the Latin again."
+
+Martha looked at him half timidly.
+
+"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; you are
+always thinking the things the poets write about."
+
+"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the grass
+beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing rhymes, now,
+in a minute."
+
+"Why not?" she urged.
+
+"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. They
+work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win the
+scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come to be
+a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; and if I
+win out in the end, it will be for the love of some one--some one who
+cares more for that than for anything else in the world."
+
+She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird as it
+wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio and took
+from it a little sketch.
+
+"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all week," she
+said, with a deprecatory laugh.
+
+"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the shadows are
+slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell me? Are there
+more?"
+
+He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and
+exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in
+drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a vague
+instinct for the essence of things.
+
+"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, but
+they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just hear
+the water going over those stones."
+
+Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For a year she had reached
+forward blindly toward some outlet for her cramped, limited existence,
+and suddenly a way seemed open toward the light.
+
+"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am never
+going to show them to any one but you and mother and father."
+
+"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great
+artist you'll be some day."
+
+She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like a
+little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful
+garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never get
+to them."
+
+"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making money
+some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the country; and
+you will be getting well and strong, and we'll go--"
+
+Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. "Studying
+for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The judge tells me
+that you have a good chance to win the scholarship."
+
+"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, Mr.
+Meech, do ye think the same?"
+
+"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish the
+work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, stands an
+excellent chance."
+
+Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be in me,
+it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he swung his
+books across his shoulder and started home.
+
+Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a backward
+look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed in sailing a
+broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to drop her
+basket and start after him in hot pursuit.
+
+That evening the judge glanced across the table with great
+satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The
+boy, after all, was a student; he was justifying the money and time
+that had been spent upon him; he was proving a credit to his
+benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge of human nature.
+
+"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke in
+Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration.
+
+"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to wonder
+again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying.
+
+"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. Moseley, the
+principal of the academy.
+
+Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter ponderously. He
+regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth to dispose of any
+subject in words of less than three syllables.
+
+"Your protégé, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous proposition. He possesses
+invention and originality, but he is sadly lacking in sustained
+concentration."
+
+"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win it?"
+
+Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a
+problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most
+insidious enemy with which he has to contend."
+
+"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously.
+
+"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky solemnity,
+"the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!"
+
+It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon after
+reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting for all
+his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had crossed the
+ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for.
+
+There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of
+concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work
+during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the great
+mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel rate
+during the years he had spent out of school. He was making gallant
+progress when a catastrophe occurred.
+
+The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in Lexington
+between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set for June 2.
+And June 2 was the day which cruel fate--masked as the board of
+trustees--had set for the academy examinations. Sandy was the only
+member of the team who attended the academy, and upon him alone rested
+the full agony of renunciation. His disappointment was so utterly
+crushing that it affected the whole family.
+
+"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge.
+
+"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could play,"
+said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in the
+bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me place!"
+
+For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The one
+topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found the
+strain too great to be borne. The team was to go to Lexington on the
+noon train with a mighty company of loyal followers. Every boy and
+girl who could meet the modest expenses was going, save the
+unfortunate victims of the junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton
+had even had a dress made in the Clayton colors.
+
+As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like a
+rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a cool
+little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny banner
+of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was having a
+final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, glorious in
+new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of campaign. Little
+boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to come out and give a
+bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting warriors. Maidens in
+crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons fluttered about in a tremor of
+anticipation.
+
+Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over his eyes, went up Back street.
+If he could not make the devil get behind him, he at least could get
+behind the devil. Without a moment's hesitation he would have given
+ten years of sober middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth
+on the Lexington diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the
+grand stand to be won.
+
+He tried not to keep step with the music--he even tried to think of
+quadratic equations--as he marched heroically on to the academy. His
+was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing life for a good but
+hopeless cause.
+
+Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked around to
+the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and wanted, if
+possible, to find out the result of the examination before going home.
+The report of the scholarship won would reconcile him to his
+disappointment.
+
+At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a queer
+smile. They both asked the same question:
+
+"Where's Sandy?"
+
+As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street leading
+down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious crowd;
+bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while shrill girlish
+voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in the air on the
+shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and success, sat the
+delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved itself into one mighty
+cheer:
+
+    "Kilday, Kilday!
+    Won the day.
+    Hooray!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+"THE LIGHT THAT LIES"
+
+
+During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his
+failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent of
+abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown
+by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and
+groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.
+
+"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had
+set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. I had
+counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the
+academy."
+
+"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if
+ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever
+stir out of them!"
+
+So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law
+with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing could
+have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his
+feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire.
+
+Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not listen at
+all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter
+absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of
+the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously receiving a life-imprint of
+the old judge's native nobility.
+
+From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the
+post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon on
+board the steamship _America_. But since then his funds had run rather
+low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result was a chronic
+state of bankruptcy.
+
+"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It is
+not easy to live within an income."
+
+"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from deep
+experience.
+
+After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; when he
+did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed.
+
+"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and disconsolate
+on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep her this long.
+The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's so patient it's
+enough to break your heart."
+
+Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and back,
+in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. Then he
+wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that it brought
+the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the basket with the
+note and left them at her door, after which he promptly forgot all
+about her. For his whole purpose in life these days, aside from
+assisting the government in the distribution of mail and reading a
+musty old volume of Blackstone, was learning to dance.
+
+In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had received
+an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the social
+excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into society,
+and he was determined to acquit himself with credit.
+
+He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the
+post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried elaborate
+and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the mildest "reel
+chune" a direct communication from the devil. The moment the
+post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where Annette was
+taking him through a course of private lessons.
+
+Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. Opening
+the door, one passed into a small square hall where the Confederate
+flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On every side
+were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive
+battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull
+Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the unreconstructed
+little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his gray felt hat, which
+he removed only when he ate and slept.
+
+Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was doing
+sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with Annette,
+and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim sheet known as
+"The Confederate Veteran."
+
+It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In fact, the
+doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was occasionally
+guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with Annette.
+
+"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the 'Veteran.'
+Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! That's his
+picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever pulled a
+trigger."
+
+"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy.
+
+The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! I
+never knew a rebel."
+
+"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, trying to
+cover his blunder.
+
+"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll be
+buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a farm.
+Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by mistake. Ever
+look over these maps? This was the battle of--"
+
+A door opened and a light head was thrust out.
+
+"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and over.
+Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy."
+
+A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's voice
+was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy went
+through violent contortions in his efforts to waltz. He had his
+tongue firmly between his teeth and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he
+revolved in furniture--destroying circles about the small parlor.
+
+"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You d-dance
+with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano."
+
+"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the chair at
+the piano, but I'll dance with no chair."
+
+Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked up at
+him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look more like a
+child than ever.
+
+"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many feet!"
+
+"The more of me to love ye."
+
+"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking at him
+sidewise.
+
+"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the warning
+never to look at me when you fix your mouth like that?"
+
+She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that _g_'s were fatal.
+
+A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended dudgeon,
+while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other.
+
+"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without the
+asking! I'll be good now--honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll shut me
+eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. Won't ye
+be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must do?"
+
+Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. She used
+them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, fastened her
+belt, and on state occasions even adorned her shoe-buckles.
+
+"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to
+everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one
+g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting out."
+
+"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the intricacies
+of society are manifold.
+
+"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you like
+dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the man's
+shoulder, and then she d-dances with you."
+
+"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding at all
+why he should have the preference.
+
+"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl so
+m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little corner
+and talk to her than to d-dance with her."
+
+"That'll never be me," cried Sandy--"not while the band plays."
+
+"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and
+scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion on
+his, they struggled onward toward success.
+
+In the midst of the lesson there was a low whistle at the side
+window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and put her finger to her lips.
+
+"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come here."
+
+"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy.
+
+Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden fruit. She
+tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few inches.
+
+At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate face,
+over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on every
+feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there
+was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed back the
+shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was an easy
+grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes that would
+have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than the one who
+smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains.
+
+He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her hair.
+
+"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?"
+
+She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the
+interior of the room.
+
+At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy
+Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed monster
+whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he composed a few
+comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended to bestow upon
+Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness was a thing not to
+be tolerated. She had confessed her preference for him over all
+others; she must and should prove it. Just when his indignation had
+reached the exploding-point, he heard his name called.
+
+"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home!
+Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been gone
+nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my life."
+
+Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without
+apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the street.
+
+When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was leaning
+against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of the tail of
+his eye he watched the passengers alight.
+
+There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with
+children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl with
+curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops.
+
+Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a saint
+in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, with a bit
+of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was not the little
+girl he was looking for, but he transferred his devotion at a bound;
+for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered her tenfold more
+worshipful than before.
+
+He watched her descend from her pedestal, bestow an affectionate kiss
+upon her brother, then look eagerly around for other familiar faces.
+In one heart-suspending instant her eyes met his, she hesitated in
+confusion, then blushed and bowed.
+
+Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town pump
+wore a halo of glorified rosy mist.
+
+At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a sudden
+descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of
+violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited
+her breathless upon the milk-bench.
+
+"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who
+had watched the performance with great glee.
+
+"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure.
+"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's
+powerful hot."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ANTICIPATION
+
+
+The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the
+post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the
+festivities to come.
+
+Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation
+and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he
+rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had
+each counted upon it for the coming hop.
+
+With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread
+the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a
+necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired.
+
+"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with
+delight.
+
+His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost
+much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the
+mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for he foresaw
+the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for dingy every-day
+garments.
+
+Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts in the
+kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval.
+
+"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed past
+the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, ef
+you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn 'em?
+Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was wearin'
+'em!"
+
+Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a
+"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the black
+sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get religion and
+the untiring efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year
+after year she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and
+failing each time to "come th'u'."
+
+This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and
+produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen.
+
+Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome there.
+Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her one
+dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. Every year
+she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, beaten
+biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the blue
+ribbon.
+
+"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's stifling,
+but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on in the
+house?"
+
+Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if they
+were not a part of the house.
+
+"Can't ye tell me something that's good for the sunburn?" asked
+Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be
+resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes."
+
+"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she placed
+the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.
+
+Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one
+charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there were
+none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner.
+
+"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the
+dining-room with his hat on.
+
+"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. "And
+if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just washed my
+hair, and I want it to dry straight."
+
+The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the
+brim of the stiff hat and smiled.
+
+"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many pages of
+Blackstone to-day?"
+
+Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she betrayed him.
+
+"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would think he
+was going to get married."
+
+"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily.
+
+The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. "You
+mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine progress, and
+I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; I'll help you to
+the top if you'll keep a steady head."
+
+"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old Moseley's
+promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't climb the
+ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, then I'm not
+much of a chicken--I mean I'm not much."
+
+"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. Hollis
+as she moved the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the
+gate, and we don't have any peace until you know who it is."
+
+"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a corn-dodger
+and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the friendship that's
+sprung up between Annette Fenton and young Nelson. I don't know what
+the doctor's thinking about to let it go on. Nelson is hitting a
+pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll never live to reap his wild
+oats, though. He came into the world with consumption, and I don't
+think he will be long getting out of it. He's always getting into
+difficulty. I have had to fine him twice in the past month for
+gambling. Do you see anything of him, Sandy?"
+
+"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more than
+once at Carter's condescension.
+
+"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs blinds
+have been closed all day."
+
+Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at his
+special request.
+
+"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the table.
+
+When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his hand.
+
+"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis.
+
+"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's
+coughing her life away. It's a shame--and a shame!" he cried in hot
+rebellion.
+
+All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy taking
+place next door. He paced back and forth between the two houses,
+begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of impossible
+things.
+
+When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, at
+first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and more
+interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve about a
+case that was decided in a previous century.
+
+When he rose it was almost dusk, and he came back to the present
+world with a start. His first thought was of Ruth and the rapturous
+prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a swift doubt followed as to
+whether a white tie or a black one was proper; then a sudden fear that
+he had forgotten how to dance. He jumped to his feet, took a couple of
+steps--when he remembered Martha.
+
+The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the
+sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy
+was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the door
+to the parlor.
+
+The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was carefully
+wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers hung on the
+walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper table. In the
+dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a room.
+
+Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper piano,
+untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and began to sing in
+an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his heart since they
+were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, stirred and awoke.
+The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; but the singer, with hat
+over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, sang on as only a poet and
+lover can. His rich, full voice lingered on the soft Celtic syllables,
+dwelt tenderly on the diminutive endearments, while his heart,
+overcharged with sorrow and joy and romance and dreams, spilled over
+in an ecstasy of song.
+
+Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final
+flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the twilight,
+listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel choir.
+
+"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the light to
+her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, and life
+itself could give no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE COUNTY FAIR
+
+
+The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as completely and
+evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air floated that sweetest
+of all music to the childish ear--the unceasing wail of expiring
+balloons; and childish souls were held together in one sticky ecstasy
+of molasses candy and pop-corn balls.
+
+Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of the
+lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, though
+constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the charging
+steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his tight
+Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same procession at
+every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb and
+loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the strangers and
+invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. Hollis reveled in
+a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted Mr. Moseley, sending
+search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in order to discover the
+academy boys who might be wasting their time upon unlettered
+femininity.
+
+At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was the
+courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side met to
+measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the races.
+
+In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, but
+this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from the
+boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, bade
+him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of his
+irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With hands in
+pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared gloomily over the crowd.
+Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, but he did not turn.
+
+Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with Carter
+Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and the
+largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert countenance
+of Sid Gray.
+
+Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a Spartan
+hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the flames.
+
+This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for opportunity
+of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was slipping away,
+and she did not even know he was there.
+
+He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his stoutness
+and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had slipped up at
+the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the back of the seat;
+it was plump and white. Sandy held out his own broad, muscular palm,
+hardened and roughened by work. Then he put it in his pocket again and
+sighed.
+
+The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons and
+stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming with
+laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should he
+allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of escape?
+He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising abruptly,
+he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the
+courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. It
+was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock
+almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she had
+spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the rest in
+his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his hand.
+
+The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the bass
+drum performed a solo inside his head during the moment that
+followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of bright brown
+eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in his.
+
+This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the
+promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some one
+was pushing roughly through the crowd.
+
+"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!"
+
+A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His suit of
+broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud were
+strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, and bushy
+hair were hatefully familiar.
+
+Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the stranger
+looked at him and said:
+
+"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!"
+
+Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the
+courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never
+occurred to him to be angry.
+
+"What brought you back?" he asked huskily.
+
+"Hosses."
+
+"Are you going to drive this afternoon?"
+
+"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he added,
+"he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know him?"
+
+"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to be rid
+of his companion.
+
+"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the races
+straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. Say,
+he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows me when
+he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good these days?"
+
+"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently.
+
+"You ain't goin' to school yet?"
+
+"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds out."
+
+"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be hikin'
+back. The next is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!"
+
+He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until it was
+lost in the crowd.
+
+That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed a
+wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged
+inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her hand,
+and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, had not
+the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at that moment.
+
+The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary way. He
+had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange manoeuvers
+about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When he saw Sandy
+he opened fire.
+
+"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she talks
+to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not looking,
+sir, she talks to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking
+his finger impressively, "that little girl is as slick as--a blame
+Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take
+her home."
+
+Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the doctor
+had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the watch-dog
+for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter Nelson gets a
+word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how to talk."
+
+"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. I'd
+rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's wilful,
+Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little pink toes
+curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her shoes when she
+wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, with a gruff
+chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've got."
+
+Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the
+courting-box. Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not
+look up as he passed.
+
+He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the indignation of
+little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's patronizing
+tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the turn of his
+head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth.
+
+Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely too
+limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew from past
+experience that Sandy and Carter were much better matched. If Sid Gray
+had been there also, she would have been quite happy. In Annette's
+estimation it was all a mistake about love being a game for two.
+
+"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy.
+
+"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly.
+
+Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I believe?"
+
+"Before he was yours," said Sandy.
+
+This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even thinking
+about her.
+
+"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked Sandy.
+
+"The first four."
+
+She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?"
+
+"The last four."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"But it is. Let me see."
+
+"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking
+advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand.
+
+"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!"
+
+She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of himself
+sewed on one of the slats.
+
+"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I knew
+it, you rascal, you rogue!"
+
+"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding.
+"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's chagrin, she
+opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a picture of Nelson.
+
+But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole attention
+was centered on the ring, where the most important event of the day
+was about to take place.
+
+It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There were
+four entries--two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little thoroughbred
+"Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the ring under Ricks's
+skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from the bays, but the
+sorrel was a close competitor.
+
+"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band struck up
+"Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just c-coming, with the
+ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't he?"
+
+Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace.
+
+The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third brought
+the grand stand to its feet. Even the revolving procession halted
+breathless.
+
+"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they g-go!
+Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the sorrel's
+ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's g-going to smash
+in--Oh, look!"
+
+There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women
+screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got
+there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who lay
+in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised head; it
+was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and indignation.
+
+The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,--the big, easy-going
+judge,--whose passion, once roused, was a thing to be reckoned with.
+
+"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw what
+he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to the full
+extent of the law."
+
+Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously
+around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but
+Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and
+instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You know
+it wasn't none of my fault."
+
+Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the sight
+of Ricks so much as at that moment.
+
+"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge--"the boy I used to
+peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. I'll--I'll go his bail
+if you'll be letting him go."
+
+"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money you've
+saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this rascal, this
+half murderer!"
+
+The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. Ricks was
+not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a lively skirmish
+ensued.
+
+As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his
+fist in the judge's face.
+
+"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to hell
+fer it!"
+
+The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart with
+troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A COUNCIL OF WAR
+
+
+While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the festivities
+of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave and thoughtful
+contingent, which acts as ballast in every community, was idle.
+
+Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against
+dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed to
+preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening of the
+hop.
+
+They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of the
+Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a Jove of
+righteousness dispensing thunderbolts of indignation to his
+satellites. A fringe of scant hair retreated respectfully from the
+unadorned dome which crowned his personal edifice. His manner was most
+serious and his every utterance freighted with importance.
+
+Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist
+preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a way
+of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical imitation of
+a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in the history of
+the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly concord. For the
+last few days the united war upon a common enemy had knitted their
+souls in a bond of brotherly affection.
+
+When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose with
+dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the occasion is
+one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is one which has
+menaced our community for generations--a viper to be seized and
+throttled with a firm hand. The waltz, the--the Highland fling,
+the--the--"
+
+"German?" suggested some one faintly.
+
+"Yes, the german--are all invasions of the Evil One. The crowded
+rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and debasing. I am glad
+to report one young soul who has turned from temptation and told me
+only to-day of his intention of refraining from partaking in the
+unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, brethren, was the nephew
+of my pastor."
+
+The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light cast from
+the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He was
+contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making the
+lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming
+examinations at the academy.
+
+Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was just
+concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he cried.
+"Who can behold and not shudder?"
+
+Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder,
+ventured a timid inquiry:
+
+"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?"
+
+Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer the
+window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?"
+
+With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to which
+the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped
+apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow of
+Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official
+occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the
+shrinking habit established by its predecessors.
+
+"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my shoulder."
+
+Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious apprehensions
+as to the revelations to follow.
+
+"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your waist--thus."
+
+"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment.
+
+But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And the
+other hand--" He stopped in grave deliberation. The Methodist brother,
+who had been growing more and more overcharged with suppressed
+knowledge, could contain himself no longer.
+
+"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't hook
+your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw it up and
+down--like this."
+
+He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, and
+humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to the
+consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet under
+their chairs.
+
+Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, stumbled
+on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In his downfall
+he carried his instructor with him, and a deluge of tracts from the
+table above followed.
+
+In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church next
+door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was the
+opening hymn for prayer-meeting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HELL AND HEAVEN
+
+
+The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were soon
+dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed right of
+way over every other thought.
+
+By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had been
+ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; but he
+was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as fixed as the
+numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should attend prayer-meeting
+as usual before the dance.
+
+In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had assembled
+and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He appeared
+singularly flushed and breathless, and caused some confusion by
+giving out the hymn which had just been sung. It was not until he
+became stirred by the power of his theme that he gained composure.
+
+In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next to
+him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, sat
+Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful frame of
+mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes riveted on
+the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, stationary though he
+was, he was really giving himself the benefit of a final rehearsal,
+and mentally performing steps of intricate and marvelous variety.
+
+"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my dress."
+
+"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" asked
+Sandy, anxiously.
+
+Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in plaintive
+reproach.
+
+Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing
+length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and Sandy
+had escaped to their reward.
+
+The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room with
+a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced
+instruments and notes that had never met before.
+
+To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses moved
+to the music of the spheres.
+
+"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and a
+slide. "I could just d-die dancing."
+
+"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy.
+
+"That's to keep the stags b-back."
+
+"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication.
+
+"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay b-back of
+the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on right away.
+There's your d-dressing-room over there. Don't bother about my card;
+it's been filled a week. Is there anyb-body you want to dance with
+especially?"
+
+Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the
+center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else.
+
+Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped,
+bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with
+buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept impatient
+time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and she swayed
+and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves dancing.
+
+It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had belonged
+to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her round white
+throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in waiting to a queen
+of France. He only knew she meant everything beautiful in the world to
+him,--music and springtime and dawn,--and that when she smiled it was
+sunlight in his heart.
+
+"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, following
+his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find out, if you
+w-want me to."
+
+"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then he
+stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think she'll be
+caring to dance with a boy like me?"
+
+"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget to
+count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to try it
+before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you to bump
+into now, and there will be a hundred after a while."
+
+O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he could
+dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears and boldly
+launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was breathless,
+carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful uncertainty he
+settled into the step and glided away over the shining floor,
+counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward
+behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons.
+
+He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met to
+dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in
+imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him the
+last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment until
+that magic hour should arrive.
+
+But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails were set
+and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster which promptly
+relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not dance!
+
+When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and
+vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a
+very long time.
+
+"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out of
+the crowd, and have a nice long talk."
+
+Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered
+helplessly.
+
+"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I
+have heard _so_ much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just
+want to know all about it."
+
+As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the
+best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and
+helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with
+the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears.
+
+She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly
+started the pendulum.
+
+"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear
+place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my
+men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to
+keep them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love
+men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"
+
+He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit
+of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers.
+
+"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just
+a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of
+them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the
+States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I
+love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary.
+One's going to India,--he's a blond,--and one to Africa. Just between
+us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make
+up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things,
+Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You
+understand, don't you?"
+
+He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for
+he did not want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.
+
+"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt
+that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of
+magnetism."
+
+Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable
+realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence.
+
+After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the
+drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette.
+
+"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you
+didn't like to sit out d-dances."
+
+He smiled feebly.
+
+"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk
+better than to dance, it's our own affair."
+
+Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned,
+they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering
+them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he
+resented.
+
+"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the
+voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had.
+His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always
+that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all
+the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but
+he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he
+got back."
+
+Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own sad
+fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied him his
+state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the dancers
+beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no relief in
+view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water again, after
+which they returned to their seats.
+
+"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a pleased
+laugh. "I oughtn't to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly
+fatal for a girl to show such preference for one man. But we are so
+congenial, and you do remind me--"
+
+"If it's embarrassing to you--" began Sandy, grasping the straw with
+both hands.
+
+"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good
+confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little
+girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling you, I
+met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me right off--"
+
+On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank in
+his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking ever
+since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, and that
+all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He watched the
+flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the boys their wilted
+collars! After eons and eons of time the band played "Home, Sweet
+Home."
+
+"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't you sorry? We've had a
+perfectly divine time--" She got no further, for her partner, faithful
+through many numbers, had deserted his post at last.
+
+Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at Ruth's
+side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, her cheeks
+flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling across her bare
+shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the words, too long
+confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a blockade.
+
+She looked up and saw him--saw the longing and doubt in his eyes, and
+came to his rescue.
+
+"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half
+timidly.
+
+In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully practised bow,
+and the omission brought such chagrin that he started out with the
+wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, and a quarter of a yard
+of lace trailed from the hem of his partner's skirt.
+
+"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning consternation
+that Ruth laughed.
+
+"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to pin it
+up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss the music."
+
+He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. The
+blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably sweet.
+
+She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, three).
+Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, two,
+three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, three)--or fall?
+
+He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he forgot all
+about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had that morning on
+shipboard when the _America_ passed the _Great Britain_. All the joy
+of boyhood resurged through his veins, and he danced in a wild
+abandonment of bliss; for the band was playing "Home, Sweet Home,"
+and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her shining eyes
+his gipsy soul had found its final home.
+
+[Illustration: "Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"]
+
+When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, at
+the dressing-room door, Ruth said:
+
+"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!"
+
+"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me before!"
+
+When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled.
+
+"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly horrid
+time you've had!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE NELSON HOME
+
+Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the river,
+just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom of fields
+and meadows.
+
+It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows and
+verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and sheltered by a
+wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded both approval and
+disapproval over many generations of Nelsons.
+
+In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was laid for
+three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, while at the
+head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second biscuit. It was
+vulgar, in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two
+biscuits at a meal.
+
+When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk of
+his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance to his
+eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to take charge
+of Ruth until that young lady should become of age.
+
+Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The prospect
+of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the social
+labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties that had
+long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and obedient young
+person began to develop tastes of her own that she found the burden
+irksome.
+
+Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the remaining
+three she insisted upon spending in the old home at Clayton, where
+Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his summers. Hitherto Mrs.
+Nelson had compromised with her. By adroit management she contrived
+to keep her, for weeks at a time, at various summer resorts, where she
+expected her to serve a sort of social apprenticeship which would fit
+her for her future career.
+
+At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. Nelson
+confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had existed in
+embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her first summer out
+of school, the foolish girl announced her intention of going to
+Willowvale for an indefinite stay.
+
+It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. Nelson to
+lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of civilization; there
+was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too much out of doors. She
+disliked nature in its crude state; she preferred it softened and
+toned down to drawing-room pitch.
+
+She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the hall.
+
+"Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she said to the colored
+girl at her side.
+
+Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore her
+riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning canter.
+
+"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did the
+mare behave herself?"
+
+"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old mill-dam,
+'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm perfectly
+famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, and--and
+everything you have."
+
+Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them
+carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept after
+being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one roll
+brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon."
+
+"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to miss
+a half-day."
+
+"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter.
+
+"Why, yes--" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her:
+
+"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You aren't
+well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on her face.
+It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses will be worse
+than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to do in this
+stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all summer."
+
+This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two young
+people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained to address
+her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the big,
+old-fashioned room and sighed.
+
+"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried
+here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that
+the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age!
+What _do_ you suppose your dear grandfather _could_ have been
+thinking of?"
+
+This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended
+in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention.
+
+"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the
+place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it."
+
+Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day
+it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other
+going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."
+
+"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.
+
+He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've
+bothered your head about me ever since you were born."
+
+She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at
+him wistfully.
+
+"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he
+said, with a curl of the lip.
+
+"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.
+
+"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place else. I
+don't think I could ever bear to sell it."
+
+"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't be
+sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your début, you'll feel
+very different about things. Of course the place must be sold: it
+can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to spend another
+summer in Clayton. You could not stay here alone."
+
+Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of the
+window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden of
+Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded little
+hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been allowed to
+grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. The glamour
+of those old days still clung to the place, and made her love
+everything connected with it. The front gate, with its wide white
+posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year her
+grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. The huge
+green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where she and
+Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a burying-ground
+when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice house, with its
+steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing experience when she was
+six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn gown, and bade her do it
+again.
+
+It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they were
+friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into all
+sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with a
+heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and pretend
+to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, where a
+coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the other. She
+had often built a romance about them as she watched them peeping at
+each other through the leaves.
+
+Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away to
+the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above the
+lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the flowers. And
+the fields and the river and the house and the trees were hers,--hers
+and Carter's,--and neither could sell without the consent of the
+other. She took a deep breath of satisfaction. The prospect of living
+alone in the old homestead failed to appal her.
+
+"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the crest on
+the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She wants us to
+spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a handsome
+cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. Warrenton,
+Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton."
+
+"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him--the one that didn't have any
+neck."
+
+Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience;
+then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, that it is
+absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you to meet
+people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to start on
+Wednesday?"
+
+"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having such a
+good time, and--" she broke off impulsively. "But I know it's dull for
+you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with Carter. I'll do
+everything you say if you will only let me stay."
+
+Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life was to
+cultivate Clayton--the distinguished, exclusive, aristocratic society
+of Clayton."
+
+She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: "Please
+don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to stay. You
+know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. They think I
+am queer. I can't be happy where they are."
+
+Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my opinions
+are of no weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most
+impolitic to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into
+the most desirable set; and even if she is a little--" she searched a
+moment for a word--"a little liberal in her views, one can overlook
+that on account of her generosity. She is a very influential woman,
+Ruth, and a very wealthy one."
+
+Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt Clara;
+and I don't want you to ask me to go there."
+
+Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very well,"
+she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point out your
+duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak about, and that
+is your associating so familiarly with these townspeople. They are
+impertinent; they take advantages, and forget who we are. Why, the
+blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the dear major as 'Bob.'"
+
+"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and he
+shook hands with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'"
+
+"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you _any_ family
+pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to visit the
+Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled skilfully, and its
+summary dismissal was a sore trial to her.
+
+In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, Aunt
+Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll try--"
+
+Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to
+Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given every
+advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon throwing away
+her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no longer to be
+consulted--no longer to be considered." She sought the seclusion of
+her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour swayed with emotion.
+
+Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. This
+discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by
+repetition. Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable?
+
+"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She will have
+more sense when she is older. She's just got her little head turned by
+all the attention she has had since coming home. There isn't a boy in
+the county who wouldn't make love to her at the drop of her eyelash.
+She was the belle of the hop last night; had the boys about her three
+deep most of the time."
+
+"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one eye.
+"Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! What do
+you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance in a public
+hall!"
+
+"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, pouring
+himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and stupid."
+
+"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when they
+played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could have begun and gone right through
+it again."
+
+"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with that
+Kilday boy?"
+
+"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"
+
+"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."
+
+Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly
+alert.
+
+"Who, pray, is Kilday?"
+
+"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he
+would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge
+thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular
+burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he
+interferes he'll hear from me."
+
+"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.
+
+"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete,
+and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you
+know--an Irish peddler; came here three or four years ago with a pack
+on his back."
+
+"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with
+horror.
+
+Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why
+shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I
+told you he was drinking."
+
+"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you actually
+danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, this must
+never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. I will
+accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need never
+recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing you!"
+
+A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and spoke
+to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my habit," she
+called.
+
+"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed locks.
+
+Ruth paused at the door. There was a slight tremor about her lips,
+but her eyes flashed their first open declaration of independence.
+
+"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the river."
+
+There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, during
+which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed indignantly
+at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell.
+
+"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get her
+veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the boat-house
+at once."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+UNDER THE WILLOWS
+
+
+Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the bluest of
+summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern way. Tall blue
+lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in the reflections of
+the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of goldenrod, advance-guard
+of the autumn, stood apart, a silent warning to the summer idlers.
+
+Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed his
+love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, no less
+impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that was bursting
+his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly with the pulsing of
+the stream.
+
+For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land
+of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden hills
+to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the real world
+of the King Arthur days--the world that was lighted by a strange and
+wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a knight, waiting and
+longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his lady fair.
+
+Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons and
+towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from which
+he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits--he would brave them all.
+Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands clasped about his
+knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of awkward silence that
+seemed to possess him.
+
+[Illustration: "Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"]
+
+They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the sun,
+and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough.
+
+Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her hand
+in the cool water and watching the little circles that followed her
+fingers. Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it
+through the leaves, was almost the color of her eyes.
+
+But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his
+intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he thought,
+they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of the stream;
+sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that sparkled in
+the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the shadows. They were
+deep as his love and bright as his hope.
+
+Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question.
+
+"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he exclaimed
+contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of them. Do they
+keep changing color like that all the time?"
+
+Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously.
+
+"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly under
+here, isn't it? So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I
+came."
+
+"You cross?"
+
+She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, and
+totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her shortcomings
+on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical imitation of her aunt.
+
+"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, with such
+ardor that she fled to another subject.
+
+"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She was very
+weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed happy."
+
+"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy.
+
+"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. It
+was a copy of one of Turner's."
+
+"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born in
+London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851."
+
+She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he laughed.
+
+"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the ones I
+liked best years ago."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At the Olympian Exposition."
+
+"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from Europe.
+Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you somewhere before
+you came here."
+
+"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the water.
+
+A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, and
+one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled there for
+a long rest.
+
+"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!"
+
+"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," said
+Sandy.
+
+They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and pretended
+to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had not learned
+that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips refrained from
+echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less discreet.
+
+"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of one
+discovering a continent.
+
+"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's evidence.
+
+The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to
+lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than moonlight
+fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones behind them
+with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was crushed by the
+prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic perfume.
+
+Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his eyes
+in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring back the
+dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in the girlish
+cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain breath as her
+heart tried not to catch beat with his own.
+
+"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton says
+you know all sorts of quaint old songs."
+
+"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing me in
+the old country."
+
+"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth.
+
+Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he began:
+
+    "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted,
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!
+    As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!--
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with puzzled
+eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the moon was
+shining. I remember the refrain perfectly."
+
+Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he felt himself an impostor and a
+cheat. He had stumbled into the Enchanted Land, but he had no right to
+be there. He buried his head in his hands and felt the dream-world
+tottering about him.
+
+"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth.
+
+"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you remember
+the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe in?"
+
+"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing by the
+railing one night and heard some one singing it in the steerage. I was
+just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that 'Savourneen
+deelish,' nor the way he sang it."
+
+"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily.
+
+"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was a
+boy--a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal his way in a
+life-boat."
+
+"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. "He
+stole on board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He
+sneaked his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When
+they found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little
+lady looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the
+years from then to now to thank her for it."
+
+Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a moment.
+Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on:
+
+"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and peddled,
+and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad to eat the
+scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a kind, good
+man--God prosper his soul!--saw fit to give me a home and an
+education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a gentleman!"
+
+For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her
+family threw up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil.
+
+"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked.
+
+"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. "Because I
+saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I came here for the
+chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure there was something
+good and beautiful in the world to offset all the bad I'd seen. Every
+page I've learned has been for you, every wrong thought I've put out
+of me mind has been to make more room for you. I don't even ask ye to
+be my friend; I only ask to be yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to
+you, and to keep ye first in my heart and to serve ye to the end."
+
+The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above them.
+
+Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had never seen
+a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and troubled her. All
+the petty artifices which the world had taught her seemed useless
+before this shining candor.
+
+"And--and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, with a
+little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared like that."
+
+"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your
+friend?"
+
+She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In an
+instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the summer
+rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away.
+
+"Oh! but I'll take it back--I never meant it," cried Sandy, wild with
+remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, that was all.
+You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow seize me if I ever
+ask for more!"
+
+At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of song
+that they both looked up and smiled.
+
+"He doesn't think you mean it," said Ruth; "but you must mean it,
+else I can't ever be your friend."
+
+Sandy shook his fist at the bird.
+
+"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of the
+tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the wind
+to the tree-tops. No--I don't mean that. As the stream to the shore.
+No-"
+
+He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make him
+break his word.
+
+Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering
+strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out
+into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the
+vireo still hopping about among the branches.
+
+"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be near
+the post-office."
+
+Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up to the
+moon if she would only stay there between him and the sun, with her
+hair forming a halo about her face. But they were going down-stream,
+and all too soon he was stepping out of the canoe to earth again.
+
+"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he asked,
+with his hand on the boat.
+
+"To-morrow? Not until Sunday."
+
+"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?"
+
+"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.
+
+"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye
+come yourself, if I lose my position for it."
+
+Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with
+mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she
+said.
+
+"Then you'll come?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He
+climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had to use a maple
+branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material
+possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth.
+
+"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going
+up-town? I'll give you a lift."
+
+Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of
+other people in the world seemed an intrusion.
+
+"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor,
+wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.
+
+"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm.
+
+"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four
+o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE VICTIM
+
+
+Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to
+Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up
+a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel
+to the flames that were consuming him. The one absorbing necessity of
+his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy,
+forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well
+for his future ability at the bar.
+
+In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented
+all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly. But with
+the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly
+forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag
+of truce.
+
+With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit
+himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she let
+fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and
+profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy
+of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his eyes to
+the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were vain.
+
+Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The judge
+attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine grief and
+his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed an old
+suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him
+accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and
+diagnosed his case correctly.
+
+"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she said one
+evening as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first
+fire of the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep
+a man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food."
+
+Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled.
+
+"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?"
+
+Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across the
+fireplace to start the blaze.
+
+"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool dis
+heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young folks in
+dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm gwine tell
+on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near die ef he
+knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent meetin's wif Carter
+Nelson 'most ever' day."
+
+"Is Sandy after Annette, too?"
+
+"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" until
+they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at high game. He's
+fix' his eyeball on de shore-'nough quality."
+
+"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her scissors
+sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she would look at
+him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only aristocratic people that
+ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid less attention to their
+ancestors and more to their descendants, they might have had a better
+showing."
+
+"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the doorway;
+"but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't."
+
+"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid down
+his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a girl as
+I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is always glad to
+see everybody when she comes back. Some of old Evan's geniality must
+have come down to her."
+
+"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy and
+soda. He was just as snobbish as the rest of them when he was sober.
+If she has any good in her, it's from her mother's side of the house."
+
+"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge,
+thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his taste
+for what he could get. How long has it been going on, Sue?"
+
+"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the time.
+He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and sits up
+half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out all those
+silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn all over the
+house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all round the
+margin!"
+
+"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he read the
+title.
+
+"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where he has
+turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and nonsense!"
+
+The judge took the book from her hand and read with a reminiscent
+smile:
+
+    "When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved,
+      Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then;
+    Or if from their slumber the veil be removed,
+      Weep o'er them in silence and close it again.
+    And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far
+      From the pathway of light he was tempted to roam,
+    Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
+      That arose on his darkness and guided him home."
+
+The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I think
+I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him the good
+news myself. You haven't spoken of it?"
+
+"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he spends
+his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the malaria,
+too, you mark my words."
+
+It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At the
+judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood dazed by the
+sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and dejected, and he
+suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of youth.
+
+"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights."
+
+Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the light.
+
+"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the judge.
+"One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever since that
+affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes away with
+reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am holding his
+trial over until January, when the fact is I have been trying to get
+him released on your account. It is of no use, though; he will have to
+wait his turn."
+
+"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up.
+
+"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling against
+me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him at the fall
+trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about getting him off.
+What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very ugly in my office
+yesterday, and made various threats about making me regret any
+interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one else; but Carter
+is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the time he was born.
+He came into the world with a mortal illness, and I doubt if he ever
+had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, Sandy; he's bearing the
+sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. We have to be patient with
+men like that; we have to look on them as we do on the insane."
+
+He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair in
+confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. "However,
+that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a surprise for you. I
+couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about
+your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he
+is confident--"
+
+Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.
+
+"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've
+made up me mind to enlist."
+
+"Enlist! In the army?"
+
+"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back;
+and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!"
+
+"Is it money matters?"
+
+A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently
+Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye
+must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body
+to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me
+purpose; I enlist on the morrow."
+
+The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he
+asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?"
+
+Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have
+discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of
+miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings
+mastered all other considerations.
+
+"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let
+me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I
+break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see her.
+The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb."
+
+"And you think you would be better if you were out of her sight?"
+
+"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked Sandy,
+fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. It's breaking
+her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the face, and I'll
+put it out of her sight."
+
+"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge.
+
+Sandy assented with bowed head.
+
+The judge got up and stood before the fire.
+
+"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that you
+were not in her--that is, that she was not of your--"
+
+Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth.
+
+"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have stretched out
+my arms to her still!"
+
+Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought the
+judge to his side.
+
+"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously.
+
+"Four years!"
+
+"Before you came here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You followed her here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his
+vocabulary.
+
+Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it,
+breaking down at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness
+and the sorrow his misery had caused her.
+
+When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was bestowing
+large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and shoulders.
+
+"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy.
+Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go under,
+sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always wanted--"
+he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, then went on--"the
+one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed to me there was nothing
+else in the world would make up to me for that lack. I had money more
+than enough, and health and friends; but I wanted a boy. When you came
+I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a while just to see how it would feel.'
+It's been worth while, Sandy; you have done me credit. It almost
+seemed as if the Lord didn't mean me to be disappointed, after all.
+And to-day, when Mr. Moseley said you ought to have a year or two at
+the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my own. I'll send
+him this year and next, and then he can come home and be a comfort to
+me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was sitting up to tell you,
+Sandy; but now--"
+
+"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere you
+say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to stay
+here?"
+
+"Not now, Sandy; not for a while."
+
+"Never!--so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow between her
+and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord gives me
+strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I live!"
+
+"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you off to
+the university next week."
+
+"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust meself
+over the week."
+
+"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both go to
+bed."
+
+Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in
+his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the
+valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His
+muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in
+the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse of
+home to a sailor who expected never to return.
+
+Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a worn old
+copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness of other
+days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a half-quizzical,
+half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover once, and Sandy's
+romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that sent up a faint perfume
+of memory.
+
+"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too:
+
+    "Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
+       That arose on his darkness and guided him home."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER
+
+
+By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be old and
+mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He had even
+yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter from
+Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to delay the
+letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages under the
+stamp when she wrote to other people.
+
+During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy handed
+his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once a week,
+following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal crumbs of
+interest the judge might let fall while perusing them. The supremacy
+which Sandy had established in the base-ball days had lent him a
+permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys of Clayton. "Letter
+from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, adding somewhat
+anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?"
+
+The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently gratified
+Jimmy's curiosity.
+
+"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through with
+athletics."
+
+"Does he like it up there?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would
+answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard."
+
+"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy,
+thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly
+killed him."
+
+"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he sighed.
+
+Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute curiosity the second
+winter--about the time the Nelsons returned to Clayton after a long
+absence.
+
+On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's
+handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. The
+next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss Nelson.
+After that it became a regular occurrence.
+
+Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one person as a
+danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to fever-heat. He even went
+so far as to weigh the letters, and roughly to calculate the number of
+pages in each. Once or twice he felt something hard inside, and upon
+submitting the envelop to his nose, he distinguished the faint
+fragrance of pressed flowers. It was perhaps a blessing in disguise
+that the duty of sorting the outgoing mail did not fall to his lot.
+One added bit of information would have resulted in spontaneous
+combustion.
+
+By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they
+culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter which
+bristled under the importance of its extra stamp.
+
+The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the
+Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss Nelson,
+but I thought they started for California this morning."
+
+"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the message
+out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both go out by
+the same boy."
+
+When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow slip,
+which was innocent of envelop.
+
+     Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain.
+
+     S.K.
+
+For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message in
+the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not want
+her to read it? Why didn't he want her to read it? Questions buzzed
+about him like bees.
+
+Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. Jimmy's
+stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this explosive
+material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat deprived of
+action.
+
+After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. When
+he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he propped
+up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a manner acquired
+at school, and hiding behind this improvised screen, he carefully took
+from his pocket a small bottle of gasolene. Pouring a little on his
+handkerchief, he applied it to the envelop of the special-delivery
+letter.
+
+As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent
+applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the
+following:
+
+     --like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it will not be still.
+     Heart, body, and soul will call to you, Ruth, so long as the
+     breath is in my body. I have not the courage to be your friend.
+     I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor
+     write you again. God bless you,  my--
+
+A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette
+Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited.
+
+"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught
+eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't
+you want to do something for me?"
+
+Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept everything
+that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen.
+
+"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about
+uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until
+after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't get
+it before nine o'clock?"
+
+Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette.
+
+"Why, it's from you!"
+
+"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried sharply; then she changed her
+tactics and looked up appealingly through the little square window.
+
+"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a
+scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?"
+
+Jimmy surrendered on the spot.
+
+"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the d-down
+train starts, and if it's on time."
+
+"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting the
+telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow.
+Expecting somebody?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Going to the city yourself?"
+
+"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with
+unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she added:
+"G-guess who has come home?"
+
+"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears.
+
+"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody look so g-grand. He's gotten to
+be a regular swell, and he walks like this."
+
+Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, and
+swung bravely across the room.
+
+"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his
+pocket. "Where's he at?"
+
+"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour coming
+two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on down to
+the b-blacksmith's twins."
+
+"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious.
+
+Annette stepped to the window.
+
+"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash and,
+snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she sailed
+out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from below, which
+whirled past her and shattered itself against the wall.
+
+"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of loose
+snow from the window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then
+the door burst open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the
+threshold.
+
+"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old work, I
+see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when I first
+sold stamps?"
+
+Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The interesting
+tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, and he resorted
+instinctively to nature's first law. With an agitated countenance, he
+sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's letter behind him in a
+frantic effort to banish, if possible, the odor of his guilt.
+
+Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the window and
+asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite Jimmy she
+scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his brain. With
+crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the letter, forgetting
+that telegrams existed.
+
+He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; he
+saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, to
+his everlasting credit, he saw no more.
+
+When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was empty. He
+made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a back window,
+he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it savagely against
+the brick wall opposite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE IRONY OF CHANCE
+
+
+The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the morning,
+developed into a storm by afternoon.
+
+Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a
+dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat was
+pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. Now and
+again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch.
+
+It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train with the
+fixed intention of committing suicide.
+
+The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had resulted
+disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had read his letter, his
+common sense took flight. Instead of a supplicant, he became an
+invader, and stormed the citadel with such hot-headed passion and
+fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the innermost chamber of her
+maidenhood, and there, barred and barricaded, withstood the siege.
+
+His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had read
+his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his eyes on
+this gray, impossible world.
+
+He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was strange
+and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy skeletons
+that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of ragweed were
+covered with a pall; and the river--his dancing, singing river--was a
+black and sullen stream that closed remorselessly over the dying
+snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his river,--they knew him not; he
+stared at them blankly and they stared back at him.
+
+A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes and
+went bounding down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round
+little cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary
+diversion; but he did not want to be diverted.
+
+With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced himself to
+face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he was only
+twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction was it to have
+won first honors at the university? There was but one thing in the
+world that made life worth living, and that was denied him. Perhaps
+after he was gone she would love him.
+
+This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to himself
+her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in spirit his
+own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still face.
+Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train.
+
+Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road below
+the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. Slipping
+behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. The horse
+was evidently walking, and the voices came to him distinctly.
+
+"I'm not a coward--any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have c-come, in
+the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round,
+C-Carter,--please!"
+
+There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its faltering
+speech.
+
+Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had Annette
+out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter Nelson?
+
+He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving buggy.
+
+"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, trying
+to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? He goes to
+California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie to-day? And
+she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her say it with her
+own lips?"
+
+He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, now
+crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly alert; his eyes
+never left the buggy for a moment.
+
+When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically to
+one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and begrudging
+the time he lost while the train went by. It was not until an hour
+later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit suicide.
+
+Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced now
+that they meant to take the down train which would pass the Clayton
+train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be done to save
+Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy of the
+irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He waited until
+he was slightly in advance before he descended abruptly upon them.
+
+Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter was
+evidently trying to reassure her.
+
+As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and Carter
+reached for the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy
+had swung himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning
+back against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was
+making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her
+eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp little
+string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; he struck
+straight out from the shoulder.
+
+"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, Nettie.
+I'm here."
+
+Carter stopped his horse.
+
+"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily.
+
+"After you," said Sandy.
+
+Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy promptly
+followed.
+
+"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to explain what
+you mean."
+
+Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when
+he spoke it was to her.
+
+"If it's your wish to go on, say the word."
+
+The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable,
+but declined to make any remarks.
+
+"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said Carter,
+striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement.
+"We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference is not only
+impudent--it's useless. I know perfectly well who sent you: it was
+Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we left town. Just
+return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler
+and a fool!"
+
+"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll be
+wanting his coffee by now."
+
+"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot off
+that step or I'll--" He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy
+caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver.
+
+"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it good-by,
+Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that you've left him
+now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand for old times'
+sake."
+
+Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the
+solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man
+clings to a spar.
+
+"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad this
+way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!"
+
+Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling from
+head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord.
+He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. At Annette's
+words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.
+
+"You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that
+he will meet me as soon as we get back to town."
+
+"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance at her
+bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. Oh, why
+d-did I come?"
+
+"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your
+disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you
+back."
+
+"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, too.
+I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at home,
+and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents."
+
+She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled.
+
+"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. You
+have just three minutes to make up your mind."
+
+[Illustration: "Sandy saw her waver"]
+
+Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the second at
+Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick bound, he was
+in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.
+
+"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically.
+"Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."
+
+"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the
+horse's back.
+
+Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while
+the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be
+suicide.
+
+The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk.
+For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own
+thoughts.
+
+Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at
+something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure
+on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.
+
+"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?"
+
+"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!"
+
+"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"
+
+"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you
+suppose he was hiding?"
+
+"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up
+in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness.
+
+"Why, he's in jail!"
+
+"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't
+Ricks!"
+
+When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all
+efforts to fix it were in vain.
+
+"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home
+b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."
+
+"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far
+for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for
+help?"
+
+"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.
+
+Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not
+one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get
+home?"
+
+Annette was not without resources.
+
+"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?"
+
+"And you?" asked Sandy.
+
+"I'll ride behind."
+
+They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly
+resented a double burden.
+
+When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom,
+and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at
+their destination.
+
+"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled
+companion to the ground.
+
+"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I
+lost every hair-pin but one."
+
+At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.
+
+"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take
+care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another
+hoss."
+
+The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright
+red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside,
+and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.
+
+Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly
+warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper,
+but he had grown silent and preoccupied.
+
+The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary
+narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched
+consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have
+forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to
+think of anything else.
+
+"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.
+
+"What?"
+
+"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."
+
+"Neither did I."
+
+Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the
+track, Sandy?"
+
+The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.
+
+"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go
+out in the cold ag'in."
+
+Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not hungry.
+He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared out into
+the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? Was that
+restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his heart
+forever?
+
+Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his shoulder
+and bits of the conversation broke in upon him.
+
+"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long
+sweetening or short?"
+
+"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted anything so g-good. Sandy,
+what's the matter with you? I never saw you when you weren't hungry
+b-before. Look! Won't you try this s-sizzly one?"
+
+Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite.
+
+The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip after
+trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to admire her
+guests.
+
+"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for
+another one?"
+
+"Lemme give you _both_ a clean plate and some pie," suggested the
+eager housewife.
+
+Sandy looked at her and smiled.
+
+"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and--and more hoe-cakes."
+
+When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, Annette
+developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about while the
+men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by her fire of
+questions.
+
+After they started, Sandy leaned back in the buggy, lost in the fog
+of his unhappiness. Off in the distance he could see the twinkling
+lights of Clayton. One was apart from the rest; that was Willowvale.
+
+A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He
+patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder.
+
+"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning."
+
+"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything ab-b-bout
+being in love."
+
+Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish heart
+knew of the depths through which he was passing.
+
+"Do you love him very much?" he asked.
+
+She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged to."
+
+"He's not worth it."
+
+"He is!"
+
+A strained silence, then he said:
+
+"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's truth?"
+
+"Don't you suppose dad's kept me p-posted about his faults? Why, he
+would walk a mile to find out something b-bad about Carter Nelson."
+
+"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all his
+fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's the
+wise man to try to keep you from being his wife."
+
+"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to
+d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were so
+mean."
+
+"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in the
+morning?"
+
+"Indeed, I won't!"
+
+Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do."
+
+She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she declared
+she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched her start
+angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing back.
+
+"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me home."
+
+"And you promise?"
+
+She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the very
+m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, and
+I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever s-speak to
+you as long as I live."
+
+At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full of
+people and great excitement prevailed.
+
+"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long
+silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?"
+
+Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement would not
+cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of the buggy and
+called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! What's the matter?"
+
+Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge
+question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers.
+
+"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge Hollis. It
+was at half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They
+say the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go
+after Wilson."
+
+At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge shot!
+Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I must go to
+the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back in less. Don't
+you be letting them start without me, Jimmy."
+
+Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the
+crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike.
+
+Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering anxiously out
+into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly against the light of
+the room behind her, but Sandy did not see her.
+
+His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts tore at
+his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the other was
+to capture Ricks Wilson.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+IN THE DARK
+
+
+An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the avenue.
+The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a half-mysterious light
+to the quiet scene.
+
+He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly lighted
+hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their faces grave
+with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, Sandy hurried to
+the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn the knob, Dr.
+Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on his lips, came out,
+cautiously closing the door behind him.
+
+"You can't go in," he whispered; "the slightest excitement might
+finish him. He's got one chance in a hundred, boy; we've got to nurse
+it."
+
+"Does he know?"
+
+"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming into
+the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window."
+
+"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw him
+hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction."
+
+The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said significantly:
+
+"Have they started?"
+
+"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going with
+them."
+
+"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a minute,
+Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to see my
+Nettie since noon?"
+
+"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness broke.
+She's home now."
+
+"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson."
+
+Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the steps
+when he heard his name spoken.
+
+"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been habin' de
+terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down wifout bein'
+notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I knowed somepin' was
+gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore daybreak; dey ain't no luck
+worser den to dream 'bout a tooth fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I
+hope he ain't gwine die!"
+
+"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?"
+
+"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de doctor. She
+won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets off her
+feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head and swayed
+and sobbed.
+
+As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking
+furtively around she fumbled in her pocket for something which she
+thrust into his hand.
+
+"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to nobody
+else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done drap it
+'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, honey? You
+won't tell nobody?"
+
+He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, he
+hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in hot
+haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he had
+laid on the table.
+
+It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He looked
+at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen it before
+that afternoon.
+
+"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But
+Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?"
+
+He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his temples,
+tried to force the events to take their proper sequence.
+
+"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it must
+have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took the train
+back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I saw Ricks out
+the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. The doctor said
+the judge was shot at a quarter of six."
+
+A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He sprang to
+his feet and tramped up and down the small room.
+
+"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with excitement.
+"Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't have even driven
+back in that time."
+
+He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he took
+the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side door.
+
+The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond it.
+The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers keeping
+well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to obliterate
+them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single
+trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe.
+Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He jumped
+to his feet and started for the house, then turned back irresolute.
+
+When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had been
+effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly about him.
+On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's writing, and
+opened it mechanically.
+
+There were only three lines:
+
+     I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come to-night.
+
+The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother that
+had shot the judge--the brother whom she had defended and protected
+all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, Sandy Kilday,
+was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary temptation
+seized him to hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time
+enough to tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name
+might not matter.
+
+But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. Would
+he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such burning rage
+against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in fury.
+
+Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a heaven of
+promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for him now.
+Everything might be different when he saw her again.
+
+All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his way,
+and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted and
+formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a kaleidoscope.
+
+Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over the
+mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying figure
+on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an instant all
+the floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it.
+
+The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down
+without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one thing
+to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the
+consequences.
+
+Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he
+hurried down-stairs.
+
+On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her hands
+were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her body.
+
+In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He isn't
+dead?" he whispered fearfully.
+
+Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken since
+we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?"
+
+"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively.
+
+She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with
+vindictiveness.
+
+"Don't let them stop till they've caught him, Sandy. I hope they will
+hang him to-night!"
+
+A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried out
+to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate.
+
+He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees,
+started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had
+labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play
+tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he
+heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At
+infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness.
+
+He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The groan
+came again, and he followed the sound.
+
+At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. He
+held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, and,
+as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the snow
+beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried to sit
+up. As he did so, the light from Sandy's lantern fell full on the
+dazed and swollen face of Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for
+a space, then Sandy asked him sharply what he did there.
+
+"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the tree.
+"I'm sick. Get me some whisky."
+
+"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is Kilday--Sandy
+Kilday."
+
+Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled contemptuously.
+"_Mr._ Kilday," he said, and smiled scornfully. "The least said about
+_Mr._ Kilday the better."
+
+Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with
+Annette Fenton?"
+
+"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the--"
+
+"Do you remember coming home on the train?"
+
+Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was evidently
+trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the train? Yes; I
+came home on train."
+
+"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking
+intently in his eyes.
+
+"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then--"
+
+"And then?" repeated Sandy.
+
+Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered.
+
+"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?"
+
+"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your eyes. You
+left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis farm, didn't
+you?"
+
+"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go there."
+
+"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the snow on
+the ground and the light inside the window?"
+
+Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive face
+was vacant and perplexed.
+
+Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on with
+subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his heart that Carter
+was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a pistol was fired--"
+
+"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to my
+head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. Where was
+it--Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?"
+
+For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did you
+have that this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where did
+you get it, Kilday?"
+
+"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been shot."
+
+"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?"
+
+Sandy again looked at the pistol.
+
+"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I--" He cowered back
+against the tree and shook from head to foot. "Kilday!" he cried
+presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his long, delicate hands,
+"does any one else know?"
+
+Sandy shook his head.
+
+"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I was
+doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he--"
+
+"He's not dead yet."
+
+Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing seized
+him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he held to his
+mouth was red with blood.
+
+Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while with
+closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched convulsively.
+
+A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must take some
+decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in the square for
+him now. He must stop them at any cost.
+
+Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them.
+
+"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay you
+anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was doing.
+For the Lord's sake, don't give me up! I haven't long to live at
+best. I can't disgrace the family. I--I am the last of the line--last
+Nelson--" His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were
+glassy and fixed.
+
+Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought it out
+with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal considerations
+were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to do right. But what
+was right? He groped blindly about in the darkness of his soul, and no
+guiding light showed him the way.
+
+With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the first
+real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and formless,
+just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of need.
+
+The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the
+frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind.
+
+"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of his
+fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on the insane."
+They were the judge's own words.
+
+Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting Carter,
+persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he would not give
+him up.
+
+At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then turned
+and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square he found
+only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, discussing
+the events of the day.
+
+"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to start
+from here?"
+
+An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned.
+
+"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's got dat
+low-down rascal hanged by now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+AT WILLOWVALE
+
+
+There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat at the
+big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time
+came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.
+
+Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able
+to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from
+recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming
+back. That fact seemed to make everything right.
+
+She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her
+heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive
+as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the
+clock.
+
+"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in
+upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her
+round, good-humored face comically serious.
+
+"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.
+
+"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd
+know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"
+
+Ruth smiled and nodded.
+
+"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but
+dat nigger knows I can't read."
+
+"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."
+
+Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she
+said.
+
+Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was
+divided into many tight braids, each of which was wrapped with a bit
+of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and
+handed it to Ruth.
+
+"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it
+no place 'cept in my head."
+
+Ruth unfolded the note and read:
+
+     "DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore
+     dollars to git a devorce.
+
+     "_George_."
+
+Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety
+deepening on her face.
+
+"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.
+
+"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."
+
+"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has one
+wife."
+
+"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one arm,
+neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?"
+
+"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of him."
+
+"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but she
+held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its crumpled
+edges.
+
+Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide hall to
+the library.
+
+It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which simpered or
+frowned a long row of her ancestors.
+
+She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and
+earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her
+father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the full
+bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of him, and
+when she did her eyes filled with tears.
+
+A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, brave in a
+high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a bibulous past
+radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating nose.
+
+Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. Ruth
+recalled a tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for
+climbing upon the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips.
+
+She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and uniforms,
+and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched nose, brilliant
+dark eyes, and small, weak mouth.
+
+On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she passed it.
+It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and weakness of the
+surrounding portraits.
+
+She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two
+pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a small
+old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, singularly
+pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it with reverent
+fingers.
+
+"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself.
+
+Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap
+photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's
+chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at
+sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his head
+was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood like a
+half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap store-clothes, and a
+turn-down collar which rested upon a ready-made tie of enormous
+proportions. It was a picture he had had taken in his first new
+clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth had found it in an old book
+of Annette's.
+
+How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the elegant
+figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire to get the
+light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of tenderness.
+
+The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an
+unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the
+fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. The
+eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and the
+honest smile that hovered on his lips seemed to be in frank amusement
+at his own sorry self.
+
+Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the picture
+to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with hesitating
+shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it there.
+
+A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a little
+start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden desire to
+run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors thrilling her and
+her heart beating high. She was sure she heard wheels. She went to the
+window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. A buggy was standing at the
+gate, but no one got out.
+
+A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail and
+opened the front door.
+
+"Carter," she called softly out into the night--"Carter, is it you?"
+
+There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed the
+door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, and she
+pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and peered
+anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her emphasized the
+darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim outline of the
+buggy.
+
+Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she
+resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed down
+the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and the
+pavement was cold to her slippered feet.
+
+"Carter," she called again and again--"Carter, is it you?"
+
+At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in the
+buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. She
+looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would hear
+if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter as she
+had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely opened the
+gate and went forward.
+
+At her first touch Carter started up wildly and pushed her from him.
+"You said you wouldn't give me up; you promised," he said.
+
+"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! Nobody
+shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder--there! Step down a little
+farther!"
+
+With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the keen
+wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the lace
+falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the elbow.
+
+Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll have
+to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour."
+
+"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We are
+going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I am
+getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?"
+
+Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to bed.
+The blood on his handkerchief told its own story.
+
+She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire,
+and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep
+sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, silent
+sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness of her
+only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and blame,
+shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought valiantly
+against his weakness, but her meager strength had been pitted against
+the accumulated intemperance of generations.
+
+She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she tenderly
+smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then she caught
+up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, motherly gesture.
+
+"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any more."
+
+At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the dainty
+gown she had put on for Sandy's coming.
+
+For long hours she lay in her great canopied bed with wide-open eyes.
+The night was a noisy one, for there was a continual passing on the
+road, and occasional shouts came faintly to her.
+
+With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's room.
+She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and listen for
+the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every sound on the
+road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She could scarcely
+remember the time when she had not waited for Carter at night.
+
+Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her uncles, and
+he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. After that she
+had kept things to herself.
+
+There was but one other person in the world to whom she had spoken,
+and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to her there
+was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? Sandy's face,
+as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, hopeless, rose before
+her. But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender,
+she could make him understand if she could only see him.
+
+Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into numerous
+forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? Had her
+seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he not sent her
+a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on the early train,
+that there would be no chance to speak with her alone in the morning.
+
+A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She watched it
+deepen to rose.
+
+By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the bed and
+peeped through the curtains.
+
+"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town last
+night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?"
+
+"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in bed.
+
+"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town
+went out to ketch him. Dey been gone all night."
+
+"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she
+thought of the judge.
+
+"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?"
+
+"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is a-comin'
+up from de city to prode fer de bullet."
+
+"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the dear old
+judge is so good and kind to everybody?"
+
+"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, as
+she coaxed the kindling into a blaze.
+
+Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt was
+the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his
+benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what prompt
+action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to follow honor
+every time.
+
+"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" cried Rachel from the window. "I's
+gwine down to de road an' ax 'em if dey ketched him."
+
+"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my traveling-coat--there on
+the trunk. What can I put on my head? My hat is in auntie's room."
+
+Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white
+tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any
+noise, but come."
+
+They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. It was
+still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them suspiciously as
+they hurried down to the road. Every branch and twig was covered with
+ice, and the snow crackled under their feet.
+
+"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss Rufe,"
+said Rachel.
+
+"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the world
+except right here."
+
+"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses."
+
+Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped in
+her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the half-light.
+
+On came the riders, three abreast.
+
+"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to de
+sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up--I shorely is. He's
+hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed."
+
+Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and as she
+did so he lifted his head.
+
+It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, and
+his lips compressed info a straight, determined line.
+
+Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to him. She
+did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he was in
+trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. In the one
+moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of compassion
+and sympathy. It was the same message a little girl had sent years
+ago over a ship's railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below.
+
+The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking after
+them.
+
+"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider drew
+rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted.
+
+"Tell me what's happened!" she cried.
+
+He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs of a
+hard night.
+
+"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked.
+
+She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee.
+
+"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly.
+
+"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to the
+blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong trail
+till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a clue,
+and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far as
+Ellersberg."
+
+"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering.
+
+"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say
+anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't
+be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We
+surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing
+up on horseback."
+
+"Yes?" cried Ruth.
+
+"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding
+like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him
+before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to
+talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that
+Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the
+Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he
+was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."
+
+"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.
+
+"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on
+Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the
+mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."
+
+"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and
+her lips apart.
+
+"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that
+good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his
+father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!"
+
+"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.
+
+"To jail for resisting an officer."
+
+"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel
+from the hall.
+
+Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself.
+
+"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel,
+tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be
+disturbed until it is time to start."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"
+
+
+Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the
+little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of
+bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number
+of prisoners that had escaped its walls.
+
+In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had
+sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.
+
+The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of
+escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on
+the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy
+ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was
+concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis.
+
+Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of resisting an
+officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing to tell what he
+knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to answer to the grand
+jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of day only through the
+deep, narrow opening of one small window.
+
+At first he had had visitors--indignant, excited visitors who came in
+hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton had charged in
+upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In stentorian tones he
+rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending him, he pointed out his
+generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's heinous ingratitude. Mr.
+Moseley had arrived with arguments and reasons and platitudes, all
+expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. Mr. Meech had come many times
+with prayers and petitions and gentle rebuke.
+
+To them all Sandy gave patient, silent audience, wincing under the
+blame, but making no effort to defend himself. All he would say was
+that Ricks Wilson had not done the shooting, and that he could say no
+more.
+
+A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who was
+not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life held that
+all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound to act bad
+sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's moral welfare and
+devoted herself to his physical comfort.
+
+With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, and lard
+from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her little cabin
+at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, and pies for her
+"po' white chile."
+
+Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she brought, and
+one day asked her where she made them.
+
+"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook nuffin'
+fer you on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is.
+She 'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she
+lives."
+
+"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy.
+
+"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went back
+to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it might
+throw him into a political stroke."
+
+Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's stood
+by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot."
+
+"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter hear de
+way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in town 'ceptin'
+me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced a card covered
+with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little collection fer de
+church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin th'u' one ob dem dots to
+sorter certify it."
+
+"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some small
+change.
+
+Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she acknowledged
+reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before long. I's done
+j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."
+
+"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.
+
+"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and
+sets up wid de sick."
+
+"Have you seen Miss Annette?"
+
+"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was
+shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run
+off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed
+'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put
+dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at
+fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an'
+make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she
+gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes
+tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she
+says."
+
+Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head
+knowingly.
+
+"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die,
+an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid
+Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from
+shinin' her eyes at de boys!"
+
+"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.
+
+"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak tuberoses.
+Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to Californy. Dey
+stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' which. He took de
+fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed nothin' since."
+
+After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned against the
+bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home
+from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on
+their way from the post-office. Every figure that passed, black or
+white, was familiar to him. Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed
+down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips.
+
+How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had
+been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life
+of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger
+to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a
+great tenement and had been afraid to be alone.
+
+"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be wanting
+me here after this."
+
+It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice of a
+negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly:
+
+    "We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de coon,
+      On de medder, de hill, an' de shoah.
+    We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de moon,
+      On de bench by de old cabin doah.
+
+    "De days go by like de shadow on do heart,
+      Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright;
+    De time am come when do darkies hab to part--
+      Den, my ole Kaintucky home, good night."
+
+Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon it.
+Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It was of
+Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the
+half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her
+great eyes full of wondering compassion.
+
+But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's life
+still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in a
+distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by his
+sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and Ruth.
+
+With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and burst
+into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his race
+swept him along like a feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy,
+was elemental.
+
+When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the cold
+iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to Ruth. He
+thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her intense love
+and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to bless her, and
+the thought of what she had been spared brought him peace.
+
+Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all
+thoughts of the future and of self.
+
+These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, hallowed
+and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, blending the
+blackness of despair with the white light of perfect love. Here his
+thoughts would often turn even in the stress and strain of the daily
+life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and steps within the dim
+cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on his way.
+
+The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, and
+from that on there was no more idling or dreaming.
+
+Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the judge
+had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening readings
+in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of forty years'
+experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to the letter.
+
+For the first time in his life he learned the power of concentration.
+Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or interruption, brought
+splendid results. He knew the outline of the course at the university,
+and he forged ahead with feverish energy.
+
+Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving.
+
+One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard the
+key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up.
+Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting his
+eyes, he saw Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be
+but the substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his
+attention, and he started to his feet.
+
+"Carter?" he cried--"is he--"
+
+Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows lay
+about her eyes.
+
+"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she went
+on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, 'Hurry
+back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon as I can
+travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't know
+whether it was right or wrong,--what you did,--but it was merciful: if
+you could have seen him that last week, crying all the time like a
+little child, afraid of the shadows on the wall, afraid to be alone,
+afraid to live, afraid to die--"
+
+Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.
+
+Sandy started forward, then he paused and gripped the chair-back
+until his fingers were white.
+
+"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll break
+the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I can take
+you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak the word;
+but, by the saints--"
+
+"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture she
+laid her hands in his.
+
+For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he cried,
+searching her face, "nor gratitude!"
+
+She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul.
+
+"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the first."
+
+[Illustration: "'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"]
+
+Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the jail
+into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth had told
+her story and the news had spread; public favor was rapidly turning in
+his direction.
+
+He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun
+and is blinded to everything else.
+
+"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. "Where
+do you want to go?"
+
+Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one breath.
+He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the buggy; then he
+pulled himself up.
+
+"To Judge Hollis," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE PRIMROSE WAY
+
+
+Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered
+tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely announced
+that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, after a year's
+absence, and opened the old home.
+
+Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had concluded
+to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her place came Miss
+Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, who proved to be to
+the curious public a pump without a handle.
+
+About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the
+university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors under which
+he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had accepted in
+the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the shining new sign,
+"Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the judge's dingy little
+office.
+
+Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come home,
+fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make his way in
+the world,--to make a name for her to share, and a record for her to
+be proud of. The opportunity that had been offered him was one in a
+lifetime. It had taken all his courage and strength and loyalty to
+refuse it, but Ruth had helped him.
+
+"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he lives
+we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world after a
+while."
+
+So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign
+over the office door with his own hand.
+
+The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said,
+rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just
+about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"
+
+"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make
+my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the
+joke to every one he saw that day.
+
+It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive
+facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference.
+There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times,
+when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the
+townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior
+with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high
+and low, rich and poor.
+
+There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of
+the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that
+the sun was shining.
+
+Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him
+pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in
+his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him
+from wearing them all before the wedding.
+
+Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had tarried at
+"Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites over a
+rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom.
+
+The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon
+business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to go
+to the wedding.
+
+Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates stood
+open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the myrtle,
+while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled their
+greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the sunshine
+and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even the
+rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few
+venturesome roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those
+within.
+
+And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded the
+place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the grounds
+in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the shadow of the
+big porches.
+
+In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and presented the
+guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely greetings
+counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits overhead.
+
+Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing
+monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer brook.
+
+Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and nervously
+practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked up for once in
+her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought of a little green
+mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her keep bright with
+flowers.
+
+They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and
+roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with a
+look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a bureau of
+information, giving and soliciting news concerning wedding presents,
+destination of wedding journey, and future plans.
+
+Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through rapturous
+throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made sure the ring
+was in the left pocket of his waistcoat.
+
+From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. The
+warm breath of coming summer stole through the window.
+
+Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass to
+the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at its
+top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he was a
+ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was closing in,
+and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. In quick
+flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,--the days on
+shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at Hollis Farm,
+at the university,--and through them all that golden thread of romance
+that had led him safe and true to the very heart of the enchanted land
+where he was to dwell forever.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer necktie!"
+
+It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these ominous
+words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding breakfast, but
+the events above-stairs had proved too alluring.
+
+Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in great
+excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send Jim, or
+Joe, or Nick--any of the darkies you can find!"
+
+"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. "I's
+gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge."
+
+Messengers were sent in hot haste, one to the farm and one to town,
+while Jimmy Reed was detailed to canvass the guests and see if a white
+four-in-hand might be procured.
+
+"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip
+up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take
+it off."
+
+"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he
+know that nobody will be looking at him?"
+
+Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink.
+
+"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much longer,
+and my hair is coming out of curl."
+
+"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; and
+violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy with
+the original wedding tie.
+
+The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient guests were
+becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief fluttered from the
+landing and Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together.
+
+Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously fidgeting
+under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of his coat,
+began:
+
+"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most
+time-hallowed institution known to man."
+
+Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even his
+necktie, faded from his mind.
+
+A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows he was
+making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm trembled, and
+his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and protection.
+
+"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing
+eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and
+then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her pure
+brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her cheek, led
+her away in trembling joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names,
+their interests, their hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays
+of light, two drops of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss--to part no more
+forever."
+
+Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by sounds
+like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, and all eyes
+were turned in consternation toward the door. Then through the
+stillness rang out a hallelujah from above.
+
+"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de thunder,
+done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done written in de
+Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!"
+
+To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt Melvy,
+after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen this
+inopportune time to "come th'u'."
+
+She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where she
+continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation.
+
+Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr.
+Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale.
+
+Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the beautiful
+bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was served indoors
+and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer that made it a gala
+day for the country around.
+
+When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey,
+followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had
+never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, for the
+railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew
+rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the
+wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the river, dancing,
+murmuring, beckoning.
+
+"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, impulsively.
+"Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead."
+
+"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful freedom.
+
+They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the
+long stretch of smiling valley.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 14079-8.txt or 14079-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions 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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/old/14079-8.zip b/old/14079-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae9a7a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-8.zip
diff --git a/old/14079-h.zip b/old/14079-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a56c7a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h.zip
diff --git a/old/14079-h/14079-h.htm b/old/14079-h/14079-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac8c700
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/14079-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,5656 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice</title>
+<style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    P {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+                 text-indent: 1.25em;
+         margin-bottom: 1.25em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+         margin-top: 2em;
+         margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+    body{margin-left: 8%;
+         margin-right: 8%;
+        }
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
+    .poem .stanza     {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+    .poem span        {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 2em;}
+    .poem span.i3     {display: block; margin-left: 3em;}
+    .poem span.i4     {display: block; margin-left: 4em;}
+    hr.full { width: 100%; }
+	a:link {color:blue;
+			text-decoration:none}
+	link {color:blue;
+			text-decoration:none}
+	a:visited {color:blue;
+			text-decoration:none}
+	a:hover {color:red}
+	pre		{font-size: 8pt;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Sandy</p>
+<p>Author: Alice Hegan Rice</p>
+<p>Release Date: November 18, 2004  [eBook #14079]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="10">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td align="left">
+          Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana
+          Digital Library. See
+	      <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/">
+	      http://kdl.kyvl.org/</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 381px;"><img src=
+"images/cover.gif" width="381" height="630" alt=
+"Book Cover" /></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><!-- Frontispiece -->&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"><a name="fp" id=
+"fp"></a> <img src="images/frontispc.gif" width="444" height="700"
+alt=
+"Illustration: Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter" />
+</div>
+<h1><!-- Title Page -->
+SANDY</h1>
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<h2>ALICE HEGAN RICE</h2>
+<h3>AUTHOR OF</h3>
+<h3>"MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH"</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>NEW YORK</h3>
+<h6>THE CENTURY CO.</h6>
+<h3>1905</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Verso -->
+<!-- Dedication -->
+<p class="center">TO MY AUNT</p>
+<h3>MISS MARY A. HEGAN</h3>
+<p class="center">WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES</p>
+<p class="center">THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Table of Contents. -->
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><b>CHAPTER</b></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I &nbsp; THE
+STOWAWAY</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II &nbsp; ON
+SHIPBOARD</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III &nbsp; THE
+CURSE OF WEALTH</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV &nbsp;
+SIDE-TRACKED</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V &nbsp; SANDY
+RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI &nbsp; HOLLIS
+FARM</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII &nbsp;
+CONVALESCENCE</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII &nbsp;
+AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX &nbsp;
+TRANSITION</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X &nbsp;
+WATERLOO</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI &nbsp; "THE
+LIGHT THAT LIES"</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII &nbsp;
+ANTICIPATION</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII &nbsp;
+THE COUNTY FAIR</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV &nbsp; A
+COUNCIL OF WAR</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV &nbsp; HELL
+AND HEAVEN</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI &nbsp; THE
+NELSON HOME</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII &nbsp;
+UNDER THE WILLOWS</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII &nbsp;
+THE VICTIM</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX &nbsp; THE
+TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX &nbsp; THE
+IRONY OF CHANCE</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI &nbsp; IN
+THE DARK</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII &nbsp; AT
+WILLOWVALE</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII &nbsp;
+"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</a></p>
+<p style="margin-left: 5em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">XXIV &nbsp;
+THE PRIMROSE WAY</a></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p><a href="#fp">"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a
+long tan coat and a white tam-o-shanter"</a> Frontispiece</p>
+<p><a href="#i15">"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the
+land of his adoption"</a></p>
+<p><a href="#i77">"He smiled away his debt of gratitude"</a></p>
+<p><a href="#i173">"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting
+time"</a></p>
+<p><a href="#i195">"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his
+brain"</a></p>
+<p><a href="#i241">"Sandy saw her waver"</a></p>
+<p><a href="#i297">"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the
+first'"</a></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 1 (actual book page number)-->
+<h2>SANDY</h2>
+<!-- Page 2 -->
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> <!-- Page 3 -->
+CHAPTER I</h2>
+<p>THE STOWAWAY</p>
+<p>An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half
+enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their
+moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim
+determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the
+morning.</p>
+<p>But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise
+stopped. The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented
+by the temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and
+everybody seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length
+on the quay and earnestly <!-- Page 4 -->
+studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make up its mind
+which way to point.</p>
+<p>He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by
+the tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his
+legs were crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness
+in the face of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes
+too large, was held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric,
+and his trousers were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of
+yellow twine. The indolence of his position, however, was not
+indicative of the state of his mind; for under his weather-beaten
+old cap, perched sidewise on a tousled head, was a commotion of
+dreams and schemes, ambitions and plans, whose activities would
+have put to shame the busiest wharf in the world.</p>
+<p>"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit
+of a brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea
+air. "You don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin'
+your mind <!-- Page 5 -->
+every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"</p>
+<p>The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of
+thought that descended upon him when he was actually face to face
+with his decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell
+through his brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most
+insistent, but he brushed them aside.</p>
+<p>The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of
+the lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and
+inside was the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames
+went roaring up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and
+fairies held high carnival. There was a big chair on each side the
+hearth, and between them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on
+the arms of it. That was the clearest of all. There were persons in
+the large chairs, one a silent Scotchman who, instinct told him,
+must have been his father, and the other&mdash;oh, tricky memory
+that faltered when he wanted it to be so clear!&mdash;was
+<!-- Page 6 -->
+the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came back to haunt a
+lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that her eyes were
+blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear the ring
+of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft drone of
+her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who told him
+about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the peat-flames.
+He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek against it
+when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go out, like
+a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could make
+it come back, and sometimes he could not.</p>
+<p>After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held
+the silent father and the merry mother and the little white house
+on the heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary
+homes with relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools
+and unceasing work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded
+by <!-- Page 7 -->
+some injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and
+struck out alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been
+a rough experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget;
+but through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his
+mouth.</p>
+<p>For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up
+jobs here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be
+accommodated, making many friends and little money. He had had no
+thought of embarking until the big English liner <i>Great
+Britain</i> arrived in port after breaking all records on her
+homeward passage. She was to start on her second trip to-day, and
+an hour later her rival, the steamship <i>America</i>, was to take
+her departure. The relative merits of the two vessels had been the
+talk of the wharf for days.</p>
+<p>Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was
+happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had
+answered the call of fire at midnight, <!-- Page 8 -->
+and tramped ten miles to see the finish of a great regatta. But
+something was about to take place which seemed entirely beyond his
+attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the problem.</p>
+<p>"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied
+a stick at Sandy's shins.</p>
+<p>Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a
+smile that waited for an answer and usually got it&mdash;a smile so
+brimming over with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a
+lover of a friend and a friend of an enemy.</p>
+<p>"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as
+he jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and
+may the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'."</p>
+<p>He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his
+pockets, executed a brief but brilliant <i>pas seul</i>, and then
+went whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily,
+his rags fluttering, his <!-- Page 9 -->
+chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one direction, and the
+weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their minds.</p>
+<p>The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little
+chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his
+head for everybody."</p>
+<p>The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never
+come to naught."</p>
+<p>Two days later, the <i>America</i>, cutting her way across the
+Atlantic, carried one more passenger than she registered. In the
+big life-boat swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday,
+snugly concealed by the heavy canvas covering.</p>
+<p>He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog,
+and had boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light
+housekeeping. The apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark,
+for the only light came through a tiny aperture where the canvas
+was tucked back. At this end Sandy attended to his domestic
+duties.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 10 -->
+Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law
+requires every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to
+these was Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of
+bread, a bag of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the
+boat was utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving
+as the bed, and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as
+a pillow.</p>
+<p>There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an
+energetic, restless youngster who had never been in one place so
+long before in his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to
+lie down or crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all
+his life, and this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree.
+Besides, he could steal out at night and, by being very careful and
+still, manage to avoid the night watch.</p>
+<p>The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin
+deck and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he
+<!-- Page 11 -->
+was too much afraid of discovery to listen to what they were
+saying, but later his interest outweighed his fear. For they were
+evidently lovers, and Sandy was at that inflammable age when to
+hear mention of love is dangerous and to see a manifestation of it
+absolute contagion. When the great question came, his heart waited
+for the answer. Perhaps it was the added weight of his unspoken
+influence that turned the scale. She said yes. During the silence
+that followed, Sandy, unable to restrain his joy, threw his arms
+about a life-preserver and embraced it fervently.</p>
+<p>When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On
+the deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book,
+and on the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest
+of his life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one
+that he found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay
+behind the peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning
+he read it, with his <!-- Page 12 -->
+head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can. Twice he
+reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where he
+had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the
+golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more
+peep.</p>
+<p>It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels
+passing fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long.
+Story after story he devoured, until he came to the best one of
+all. It told of a beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who
+was girt with a cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she
+might not be delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing
+good name both of his lands and deeds. And after that all the great
+knights had striven in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a
+poor knight, poorly arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay
+it, but was abashed. At last, however, when the damsel was
+departing, he plucked up courage to ask if he might try; and when
+she hesitated <!-- Page 13 -->
+he said: "Fair damsel, worthiness and good deeds are not only in
+arrayment, but manhood and worship are hid within man's person."
+Then the poor knight took the sword by the girdle and sheath and
+drew it out easily.</p>
+<p>And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no
+dinner, and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the
+steamer, and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck
+below. Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like
+the head of a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled
+him for a moment, then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying.
+There, just ahead, was the <i>Great Britain</i> under full way,
+valiantly striving to hold her record against the oncoming
+steamer.</p>
+<p>Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea,
+her smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters.
+The Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff.
+There <!-- Page 14 -->
+were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every
+minute. Inch by inch the <i>America</i> gained upon her, until they
+were bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from
+both steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of
+handkerchiefs. Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled
+Banner." Sandy gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes
+floating overhead, and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped
+to his feet in the boat, and tearing the blouse from his back,
+waved the tattered banner in the face of the vanquished <i>Great
+Britain</i>, as he sent up yell after yell of victory for the land
+of his adoption.</p>
+<!-- Page 15 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i15" id=
+"i15"></a> <img src="images/026.gif" width="700" height="500" alt=
+"Illustration: He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption" />
+</div>
+<!-- Page 16 (blank facing page) -->
+<p>Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the
+deck. Over him stood the deck steward.</p>
+<p>"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I
+guess the cap'n will be wantin' to see you."</p>
+<p>Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned <!-- Page 17 -->from the
+height of patriotic frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck
+steward not been familiar with stowaways, he doubtless would have
+been moved by the flood of eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought
+to bear.</p>
+<p>As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the
+long line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage
+deck, where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay
+there until he was sent for.</p>
+<p>Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at
+from above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his
+nails until the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the
+tears. He was cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of
+sinister thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing.</p>
+<p>Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking
+up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white
+tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He <!-- Page 18 -->only
+knew that her eyes were brown and that she was sorry for him, but
+it changed his world. He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an
+ardent smile of gratitude that she melted from the railing like a
+snowflake under the kiss of the sun.</p>
+<p>Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new
+interest.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 19 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<p>ON SHIPBOARD</p>
+<p>The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat
+heavily upon the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the
+joys of society. Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not
+be allowed to land, but would be sent back by the first steamer,
+were made all the more unbearable by his first experience with
+illness. He had accepted his fate and prepared to die when the
+ship's surgeon found him.</p>
+<p>The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded
+Sandy to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little
+man; and when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen
+suit, his face beaming <!-- Page 20 -->
+from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was not
+unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their
+sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through.</p>
+<p>He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his
+right hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit
+broken and his courage low.</p>
+<p>"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?"</p>
+<p>"Sandy Kilday."</p>
+<p>"Scotch, eh?"</p>
+<p>"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy.</p>
+<p>"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get
+some air, and then go back and do it right."</p>
+<p>He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him
+against the railing. That was when he laughed.</p>
+<p>"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right
+soon; we have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester."</p>
+<p>"<!-- Page 21 -->A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag
+its tail so gay," said Sandy, trying to smile.</p>
+<p>The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want
+something to eat?"</p>
+<p>Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all
+the authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was
+Jonah I used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the
+whale."</p>
+<p>The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a
+sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even
+more to prolong the friendly conversation.</p>
+<p>"How many more days have we got, sir?"</p>
+<p>"Five; but there's the return trip for you."</p>
+<p>Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin'
+back!" he cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched
+forward. "I'm goin' to be an American. I <!-- Page 22 -->
+am goin'&mdash;" Further declarations as to his future policy were
+cut short.</p>
+<p>From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even
+took up a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His
+professional services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a
+speedy recovery from his maritime troubles.</p>
+<p>"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on
+his rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before."</p>
+<p>The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to
+get a boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who
+promptly embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the
+profession as well. He entered into his new work with such energy
+and enthusiasm that by the end of the week he knew every man below
+the cabin deck. So expeditious did he become that he found many
+idle moments in which to cultivate acquaintances.</p>
+<p>His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage,
+selected not for congeniality, <!-- Page 23 -->
+but for his unlimited knowledge of all things terrestrial, from the
+easiest way of making a fortune to the best way of spending it. He
+was a short, heavy-set fellow of some eighteen years. His hair grew
+straight up from an overhanging forehead, under which two small
+eyes seemed always to be furtively watching each other over the
+bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips met with difficulty across
+large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks Wilson, the most
+unprepossessing soul on board the good ship <i>America</i>.</p>
+<p>"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind
+the smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a
+wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've
+got. I lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts
+my foot in my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to
+New York, works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and
+gits enough dough to pay my way back. <!-- Page 24 -->
+Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they ain't even on to
+street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home than I do in
+a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we land?"</p>
+<p>Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said.</p>
+<p>Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer.</p>
+<p>"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't
+hop the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to
+say."</p>
+<p>"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than
+ever, now that he was sure of an ally.</p>
+<p>"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer.</p>
+<p>Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've
+just lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on
+that I'm after."</p>
+<p>"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it <!-- Page 25 -->
+ain't in me to give 'em the slip now I know 'em. Then there's the
+doctor&nbsp;"</p>
+<p>"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain.
+Goes round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as
+mean as the&nbsp;"</p>
+<p>Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled
+in Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and
+pommeled him soundly.</p>
+<p>"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin'
+and makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one
+time more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to
+break every bone in your skin!"</p>
+<p>There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller
+boy off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the
+second mate.</p>
+<p>Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious
+glance at the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since
+that first day, of looking up; but this was the <!-- Page 26 -->
+first time that he was glad she was not there. Only once had he
+caught sight of a white tam and a tan coat, and that was when they
+were being conducted hastily below by a sympathetic stewardess.</p>
+<p>But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already
+had. On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a
+secluded corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards
+with the green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment.
+The fact that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's
+surgeon in no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding
+forth into the world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel
+in distress.</p>
+<p>So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making
+rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always
+rhymed with skies&nbsp;and they were brown.</p>
+<p>Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck
+and sing. A <!-- Page 27 -->
+black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would strike a
+pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German would
+remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty drinking-song.
+Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle joined in
+the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing with
+the loudest and telling his story with the best.</p>
+<p>"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a
+woman one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was
+taken up and repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and
+protesting, was pushed to the front. Being thus suddenly forced
+into prominence, he suffered an acute attack of stage fright.</p>
+<p>"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind
+him.</p>
+<p>"Can't ye remember none?" asked another.</p>
+<p>"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come
+wrong end first."</p>
+<p>Some one had thrust an old guitar in his <!-- Page 28 -->
+hands, and he stood nervously picking at the strings. He might have
+been standing there still had not the moon come to his rescue. It
+climbed slowly out of the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold
+over the water, across the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot
+himself and the crowd. The stream of mystical romance that flows
+through the veins of every true Irishman was never lacking in
+Sandy. His heart responded to the beautiful as surely as the echo
+answers the call.</p>
+<p>He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy,
+faltering fingers, sang:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and
+I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan
+O!"<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the
+refrain to an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in
+the very essence of mystery and love.</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh
+broken-hearted!&nbsp;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen
+deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p><!-- Page 29 -->
+He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the
+bright red of her lips as they framed the words:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"Wan was her cheek which hung on my
+shoulder;<br /></span> <span>Chill was her hand, no marble was
+colder;<br /></span> <span>I felt that again I should never behold
+her;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan
+O!"<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came
+from the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He
+did not know why, but he was sorry he had sung.</p>
+<p>The next morning the <i>America</i> sailed into New York harbor,
+band playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a
+jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over
+what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the
+steerage all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the
+disembarking.</p>
+<p>Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and
+distressed as a young <!-- Page 30 -->
+hound restrained from the hunt. It is something to accept
+punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can be
+avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and
+grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him
+in brave array across the water lay the promised land&nbsp;and,
+like Moses, he was not to reach it.</p>
+<p>"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon
+as he came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of
+it?"</p>
+<p>"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy,
+amazed.</p>
+<p>"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked
+the doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his
+cheeks.</p>
+<p>"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word
+of honor I'd give you that I'd come back."</p>
+<p>"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still
+smiling.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 31 -->
+In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't
+a liar!"</p>
+<p>The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my
+man; not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?"</p>
+<p>Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one
+ambition of his life.</p>
+<p>"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New
+York. He's a good fellow. He'd put you through&nbsp;give you work
+and put you in the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like
+that?"</p>
+<p>"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go
+back!"</p>
+<p>The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your
+passage."</p>
+<p>Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was
+taken in, then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted
+him off his feet.</p>
+<p>"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding
+earnestly: "It ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay
+it back, so help me bob!"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 32 -->At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and
+crowded impatiently as they waited for the cabin passengers to go
+ashore. Among them was Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb,
+laughing and shoving with the best of them, hanging over the
+railing, and keeping up a fire of merriment at the expense of the
+crowd below. In his hand was a letter of recommendation to the
+physician in charge at the City Hospital, and in his inside pocket
+a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that had not a care in
+the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one of the bubbles
+that are apt to come to the top.</p>
+<p>"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson,
+resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home,
+then git a payin' job at the racetrack."</p>
+<p>"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?"
+asked Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving
+irksome.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 33 -->
+On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship.
+Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted.
+Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the
+damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big
+drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were
+loosely tied at the back of her neck.</p>
+<p>Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born
+lover, lavishing his affection, without discrimination or
+calculation, upon whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm
+just to stand aside and look. He liked the way she carried her
+head; he liked the way her eyes went up a little at the outer
+corners, and the round, soft curve of her chin. She was gazing
+steadfastly ahead of her down the gang-plank, and he ventured a
+step nearer and continued his observations. As he did so, he made a
+discovery. The soft white of her cheek was gradually becoming
+pinker and pinker; the color which began under <!-- Page 34 -->
+her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes, which
+still gazed determinedly before her.</p>
+<p>Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as
+little idea of having caused it.</p>
+<p>The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank.
+Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried.
+On one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky,
+U.S.A." He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned
+eagerly back into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized
+Ricks by the arm.</p>
+<p>"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you
+to Kentucky!"</p>
+<p>So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the
+will-o'-the-wisp love, and started joyously forth upon his
+quest.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 35 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<p>THE CURSE OF WEALTH</p>
+<p>It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity
+there is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no
+exception to any rule which went to prove the frailty of human
+nature. The sudden acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a
+whirlpool of temptation from which he made little effort to
+escape.</p>
+<p>"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in
+my goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me."</p>
+<p>Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and
+unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down
+<!-- Page 36 -->the street. After all, it was rather pleasant to
+associate with sophistication.</p>
+<p>"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and
+I'll mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show
+or two. It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me
+along."</p>
+<p>Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of
+the day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's
+condescension.</p>
+<p>"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they
+stopped under a street light to take stock.</p>
+<p>Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece.</p>
+<p>"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said
+as he curiously eyed the strange money.</p>
+<p>"One, two,&nbsp;two and a half," counted Ricks.</p>
+<p>"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed.</p>
+<p>Ricks nodded.</p>
+<p>"And have I blowed all that to-day?"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 37 -->
+"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar
+with a bill like the one you had!"</p>
+<p>"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy,
+incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally
+conducted tour of the Bowery.</p>
+<p>"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on
+settin' up biz with what's left."</p>
+<p>Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly.
+"Now I ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said.</p>
+<p>"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know
+mighty quick what to do."</p>
+<p>"What?" said Sandy, eagerly.</p>
+<p>"Buy a dawg."</p>
+<p>"A dog? I ain't goin' blind."</p>
+<p>"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I
+s'pose you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon."</p>
+<p>"Oh, you mean a fighter?"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 38 -->
+"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game
+she went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's
+money in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time."</p>
+<p>Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon
+going in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming
+the proud owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately
+into the position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note.</p>
+<p>The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far
+to realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought
+in partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer
+days the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and
+by night they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an
+opponent could be found.</p>
+<p>Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly
+sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the
+<!-- Page 39 -->
+sale of blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling
+testimonials in his wake.</p>
+<p>But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be
+said of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog
+failed to keep up his enthusiasm.</p>
+<p>"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your
+trouble. When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and
+listened at a' ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley."</p>
+<p>Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was
+so.</p>
+<p>Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the
+outskirts of a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy
+discovered Ricks judiciously administering a sedative to the
+enemy's dog.</p>
+<p>Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental.
+With a valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled
+himself through the crowd and fell upon Ricks.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 40 -->
+An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along
+through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly
+ignorant of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was
+indeed in sorry plight.</p>
+<p>He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long,
+cool grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the
+ground. A gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star
+peeped out, then another and another. Before he knew it, he was
+listening to the frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were
+talking about. He ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and
+gave himself up to the delicious, drowsy peace that was all about
+him. For, child of nature that he was, he had turned to the only
+mother he knew.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 41 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<p>SIDE-TRACKED</p>
+<p>The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate
+cattleman was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of
+live stock which was on its way to a great exposition in a
+neighboring city. The man he had counted on had not appeared, and
+the train was about due.</p>
+<p>As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his
+elbow. Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance
+that resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one
+cheek was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of
+drawing, the eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun
+from behind the clouds. <!-- Page 42 -->
+But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the less
+courageous.</p>
+<p>Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring
+farm-house, had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet,
+and was ready for the next round in the fight of life.</p>
+<p>"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said
+pleasantly.</p>
+<p>The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent.</p>
+<p>"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the
+cattle. My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think
+you can do it?"</p>
+<p>"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I
+can!"</p>
+<p>So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great
+city with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the
+morning.</p>
+<p>Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he
+sought a cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying
+<!-- Page 43 -->
+a smoking lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was
+small and suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and
+touched the ceiling.</p>
+<p>"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so
+little and the lid so tight!"</p>
+<p>He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down
+the sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city,
+cabs and cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights
+marking the thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big
+station, and above and below and through it all a dull monotonous
+roar, like the faraway unceasing cry of a hungry beast.</p>
+<p>He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look
+came into his eyes.</p>
+<p>"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me.
+I'm just me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down
+his grimy cheek, then another and another. He brushed them
+impatiently away with the cap he still held in his hand.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 44 -->
+Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of
+the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the
+chimney, and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection
+in a small mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had
+left undone the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that
+the boy he knew as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to
+America to seek his fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated
+horror at that other boy in the mirror. Before he had been afraid
+to be by himself, now he was afraid of himself.</p>
+<p>He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four
+flights of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of
+people were crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy,
+ever a straw in the current, joined them. Once more down among his
+fellow-men, he began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid
+his entrance fee with one of the two silver coins in his
+pocket.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 45 -->
+The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first
+picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it
+all the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and
+oblivious to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge
+canvas represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at
+last found friends.</p>
+<p>All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until
+he reached his room that the former loneliness returned.</p>
+<p>But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered
+around the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for
+admittance. It was plainly Providence that guided that thin and
+ill-treated kitten to Sandy's window. The welcome it received must
+have completely restored its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as
+he was, Sandy went out and bought some milk. He wanted to establish
+a firm friendship; for if he was to stay in this lonely city, he
+must have something to <!-- Page 46 -->love, if only a prodigal
+kitten of doubtful pedigree.</p>
+<p>During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully
+at the depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly
+irksome after the bohemian life on the road.</p>
+<p>The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great
+to enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of
+the Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of
+wonderful pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a
+natural curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the
+names of the artists he liked best, and the bits of biography
+attached to each. He would recite these to the yellow kitten when
+he got back to his little hot-box of a room.</p>
+<p>One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another
+big building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it
+was a great pipe-organ, and after a while <!-- Page 47 -->
+some one began to play. With his cap tightly grasped in both hands,
+he tiptoed down the center aisle and stood breathlessly drinking in
+the wonderful tones that seemed to be coming from his own
+heart.</p>
+<p>"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the
+aisle."</p>
+<p>A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his
+elbow.</p>
+<p>"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.</p>
+<p>"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether
+he was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that
+he could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a
+shiver of joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's
+turn.</p>
+<p>When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer
+lady:</p>
+<p>"Do they do it every night?"</p>
+<p>She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays."</p>
+<p>"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if <!-- Page 48 -->
+you come first do you save me a seat, and I'll do the same by
+you."</p>
+<p>From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on
+two scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts.</p>
+<p>But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon
+became irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily
+upon him, he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As
+he tramped back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of
+him. There was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the
+peddler's pack strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy
+bounded after Ricks Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be
+once more with some one he knew.</p>
+<p>Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye.</p>
+<p>Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right,
+Ricks; a miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's
+straight home with me you are goin'; <!-- Page 49 -->
+and if we can get the two feet of you into me bit of a room, we'll
+have a dinner that's fit for a king."</p>
+<p>On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going
+to the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks.</p>
+<p>The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of
+hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly
+demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy
+extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment.</p>
+<p>"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll
+get ye filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the
+cat, Ricks. She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give
+me the wink on the sly."</p>
+<p>Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became
+eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and
+outlined marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to
+make a short cut to fame and glory.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 50 -->
+When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For
+two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had
+to go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound
+rating for his belated appearance.</p>
+<p>"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully.</p>
+<p>"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky."</p>
+<p>The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly
+swung it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little
+maid of his dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds
+and followed the vision.</p>
+<p>Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a
+bundle, and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he
+gladly followed Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows,
+along the white and shining roads that lead over the hills to
+Kentucky.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 51 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<p>SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS</p>
+<p>"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly
+night in late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack
+and settled up their weekly accounts.</p>
+<p>"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a
+quarter fer you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin
+split it."</p>
+<p>"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy,
+hopefully, as he pulled his coat collar about his ears and
+shivered. "The man as sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain
+entirely. He thought there was money in 'em."</p>
+<p>"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. " <!-- Page 52 -->
+It's like the man what gulled us on the penknives. I lay to git
+even with him, all right."</p>
+<p>"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said
+Sandy.</p>
+<p>Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it
+before him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine
+good turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all
+out. I got to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes
+me all my life."</p>
+<p>"But don't you forget to remember?"</p>
+<p>"Not me. I ain't that kind."</p>
+<p>Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter
+himself from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made
+him sensitive to the changes in the weather.</p>
+<p>"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks,
+trying to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them
+have three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 53 -->
+Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to
+remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict
+principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate.</p>
+<p>"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of
+a more cheerful companion.</p>
+<p>"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of
+this here doin's."</p>
+<p>"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by
+the hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had
+accepted Ricks's ambition as his own.</p>
+<p>"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks.</p>
+<p>Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in
+the hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed
+to catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.</p>
+<p>It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through
+village after village.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 54 -->
+They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs
+were soaked to the skin.</p>
+<p>Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they
+could look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the
+crook of a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated
+sun, struggling through the clouds, made up for lost time by
+reflecting itself in every curve of the winding stream, in every
+puddle along the road, and in every pane of glass that faced the
+west.</p>
+<p>"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill.
+"What's the matter with the feller?"</p>
+<p>A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road,
+between the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and
+tried to rise.</p>
+<p>"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy
+stopped.</p>
+<p>"Get a fall?" he asked.</p>
+<p>The strange boy shook his head. "I <!-- Page 55 -->
+guess I fainted. I must have ridden too hard. I'll be all right in
+a minute." He leaned his head against a tree and closed his
+eyes.</p>
+<p>Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his
+riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting.</p>
+<p>"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting
+the horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?"</p>
+<p>Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle.</p>
+<p>"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a
+lift to the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and
+before Ricks had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I
+believe I will take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the
+contents and then handed a coin to Ricks.</p>
+<p>"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank
+you very much."</p>
+<p>"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks.</p>
+<!-- Page 56 -->
+<p>"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from
+backing.</p>
+<p>"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks.</p>
+<p>"Circus, I believe."</p>
+<p>"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried
+Sandy. "Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!"</p>
+<p>Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow
+before, Ricks?"</p>
+<p>"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet
+yer life he knowed how to hit the bottle."</p>
+<p>"He was sick," urged Sandy.</p>
+<p>"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom.</p>
+<p>The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that
+they decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the
+street corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while
+Sandy stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the
+show had been of short <!-- Page 57 -->
+duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed to be
+buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp
+clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head
+against the wall.</p>
+<p>"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the
+counter, as she tied up his small package.</p>
+<p>"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said
+Sandy through chattering teeth.</p>
+<p>"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You
+wait here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee."</p>
+<p>She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with
+a small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a
+half, then he asked the price.</p>
+<p>"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't
+know which side of the Ohio River you're on!"</p>
+<p>Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and
+started on his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he
+<!-- Page 58 -->
+found Ricks, who had rented a stand and was already arranging his
+wares. Sandy knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket.</p>
+<p>"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he
+exclaimed ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the
+microscopes, Ricks."</p>
+<p>"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk,"
+said Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round."</p>
+<p>As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold,
+and a purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in
+the proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently
+to enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes.</p>
+<p>At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene.
+The light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks
+Wilson, black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full
+on Sandy, who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his
+broad, straight shoulders and on his <!-- Page 59 -->
+shining tumbled hair; but it was not the light of the torch that
+gave the brightness to his eyes and the flush to his cheek. His
+head was throbbing, but he felt a curious sense of elation. He felt
+that he could stand there and talk the rest of his life. He made
+the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it buy. He told stories
+and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until only a few
+microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with
+silver.</p>
+<p>"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought
+to have a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make
+a dime look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold
+piece. Step right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two
+looks, and fifteen for the microscope."</p>
+<p>Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized
+two faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in
+feature and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the
+afternoon was <!-- Page 60 -->
+impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind
+him was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer
+corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene.</p>
+<p>"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this
+Kentucky?"</p>
+<p>"Yep; we crossed the line to-day."</p>
+<p>"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it.
+I'm sick."</p>
+<p>It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and
+making him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never
+been born. It was shame and humiliation, and all because of the
+look on the face of the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in
+the shadow of the big box and fought his fight. The coffee and the
+excitement no longer kept him up; he was faint, and his breath came
+short. Above him he heard Ricks's rasping voice still talking to
+the few customers who were left. He knew, without glancing up, just
+how Ricks looked when he said the words; he knew <!-- Page 61 -->
+how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his restless little
+eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce repulsion swept
+over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself.</p>
+<p>"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I
+can't ever speak to a girl like that!"</p>
+<p>Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to
+follow the circus, which was to be in the next town on the
+following day.</p>
+<p>"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready
+to open early in the morning."</p>
+<p>Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed
+instructions. His head was getting queerer all the time, and he
+could not remember whether it was day or night. About a mile from
+Clayton he sank down by the road.</p>
+<p>"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin'
+peddlin'."</p>
+<p>"What you goin' to do?"</p>
+<!-- Page 62 -->
+<p>"I'm goin' to school."</p>
+<p>If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes
+and being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more
+astonished.</p>
+<p>"What?" he asked in genuine doubt.</p>
+<p>"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy,
+passionately. "This ain't the way you get to be the right
+sort."</p>
+<p>Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin'
+along of me or not?"</p>
+<p>"I can't," said Sandy, weakly.</p>
+<p>Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a
+backward look he left his business partner of three months lying by
+the roadside, and tramped away in the darkness.</p>
+<p>Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no
+strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew
+there was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking
+about microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again
+<!-- Page 63 -->
+that he couldn't ever speak to a girl like that.</p>
+<p>After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must
+have gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a
+great black witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt
+about in the grass for the tender, soft hand which he used to press
+against his cheek. He found instead the hand of the witch herself,
+and he drew back in terror.</p>
+<p>"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a
+kindly voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent
+over him, her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her
+shoulders.</p>
+<p>"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him
+anxiously.</p>
+<p>Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap
+and microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he
+was talking at random, but he could not say the things he
+thought.</p>
+<p>"Where'd you come from, boy?"</p>
+<!-- Page 64 -->
+<p>"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy.</p>
+<p>"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman,
+aghast. "I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif
+yer Aunt Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my
+shoulder; dat's right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer
+bundle. It ain't fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side
+of de hill. Dey calls it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber
+would 'a' thought of puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer
+mammy. I'll git dem old cunjers outen you."</p>
+<p>Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the
+dark, up a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then
+into a tiny log cabin, where he dropped exhausted.</p>
+<p>Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the
+room, and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all
+so queer and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left
+off and the <!-- Page 65 -->
+real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to
+the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned
+on the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise
+and fall with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with
+the pain in his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the
+chant changed into a soothing murmur:</p>
+<p>"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out.
+She gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep;
+she'll git dem old cunjers out."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 66-->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<p>HOLLIS FARM</p>
+<p>Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the
+enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the
+north, but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go
+around.</p>
+<p>Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple
+boughs, was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term
+applied to all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were
+designated by the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist
+church," "the street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to
+Judge Hollis's," or "the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In
+the heart of the <!-- Page 67 -->
+town was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the
+new and formidable jail, the post-office and church.</p>
+<p>For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged
+over the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed
+with never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When
+any one was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the
+doctor, who was as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a
+familiar joke in Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and
+that the wheels always ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter
+Nelson had taken too much egg-nog and his aunt thought he had
+spinal meningitis, the usual route had been reversed, and again
+when the blacksmith's triplets were born. But these were especial
+occasions. It was a matter for investigation when the doctor's
+buggy went over the bridge before noon.</p>
+<p>"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller.</p>
+<p>The doctor stopped the buggy to explain.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 68 -->
+He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The
+hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing
+contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great
+catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling
+arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short
+volleys, in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a
+megaphone.</p>
+<p>"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?"</p>
+<p>"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that
+there boy has got anything ketchin'?"</p>
+<p>"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he
+demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one
+of smallpox&nbsp;that's my record, sir!"</p>
+<p>"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller,
+apologetically.</p>
+<p>A little farther on the doctor was stopped again&nbsp;this time
+by a maiden in a pink-and-white <!-- Page 69 -->
+gingham, with a mass of light curls bobbing about her face.</p>
+<p>"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you
+g-going, dad?"</p>
+<p>The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but
+she pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled
+herself up on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face
+through the window at the back.</p>
+<p>"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen
+years old, and a tomboy! Get down!"</p>
+<p>"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed.</p>
+<p>"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!"</p>
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+<p>"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!"</p>
+<p>Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the
+small window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his
+side.</p>
+<p>The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As <!-- Page 70 -->
+a colonel of the Confederacy he had exacted strict discipline and
+unquestioning obedience, but he now found himself ignominiously
+reduced to the ranks, and another Fenton in command.</p>
+<p>At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and
+loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child.
+He wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers
+elaborately embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features
+were softened by an expression of indulgent interest toward the
+world at large.</p>
+<p>"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this
+morning?"</p>
+<p>"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the
+fence.</p>
+<p>"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good
+Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought
+him to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever."</p>
+<p>"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor.</p>
+<!-- Page 71 -->
+<p>"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and
+the bridge last night."</p>
+<p>"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged
+from the buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light
+hair? Or is he b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?"</p>
+<p>The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about
+the boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have
+noticing the color of a peddler's eyes?"</p>
+<p>Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls
+noticed him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart
+and f-funny as could be."</p>
+<p>"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a
+grim laugh.</p>
+<p>The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the
+door they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person
+breathed protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands
+which were drawn tightly back from a straight <!-- Page 72 -->
+part. When she talked, a gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each
+side of her mouth, giving rise to the judge's joke that one was
+capped to keep the other company, since Mrs. Hollis's sense of
+order and regularity rebelled against one eye-tooth of one color
+and the other of another.</p>
+<p>"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat.
+No, don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty
+business for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here&nbsp;on
+general cleaning-day, too?"</p>
+<p>"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge,
+playfully.</p>
+<p>"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she
+turned to the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:</p>
+<p>"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere.
+I can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a
+hospital."</p>
+<p>"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the
+lad out. We've <!-- Page 73 -->
+got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have to
+stay."</p>
+<p>"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no
+question about it.</p>
+<p>"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head.
+"If he gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't
+be moved now."</p>
+<p>"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I
+would let him go to that dirty house&nbsp;and with this fever,
+too? Why, Mrs. Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since
+Christmas! She and the preacher and Martha all sit around with
+their noses in books, and never even know that the water-spout is
+leaking and the porch needs mopping! You can't tell me anything
+about the Meeches!"</p>
+<p>Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the
+doorway, looking very grave.</p>
+<p>"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs.
+Hollis.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 74 -->
+The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly
+verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly
+about the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette,
+her dress ripped at the belt, her hair flying.</p>
+<p>"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I
+could manage her all right."</p>
+<p>The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut
+mouth, to the flying figure on the lawn.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on
+Annette.</p>
+<p>That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the
+sitting-room, she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.</p>
+<p>"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin'
+out?"</p>
+<p>"The what?"</p>
+<p>"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de
+spells I knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."</p>
+<p>"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "<!-- Page 75 -->
+and it means a long spell of nursing and bother for me."</p>
+<p>The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated,
+"you needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day,
+and I will look after him at night."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing
+her mind.</p>
+<p>"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively.</p>
+<p>"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis.</p>
+<p>After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a
+steaming bowl of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her
+first step had been to have the patient bathed and combed and made
+presentable for the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been
+with rebellion of spirit that she placed him there, but the judge
+had taken one of those infrequent stands which she knew it was
+useless to resist. She put the tray on a table near the big
+four-poster bed, and leaned over to look at the sleeper.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 76 -->
+Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips
+parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred.</p>
+<p>"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in
+spite of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped
+her arm under the pillow and raised his head.</p>
+<p>"You must eat," she said kindly.</p>
+<p>He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness
+flitted over his face, a vague realization that he was being cared
+for. He put up a hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then,
+rallying all his strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It
+was over in a moment, and he sank back unconscious.</p>
+<!-- Page 77 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;"><a name="i77" id=
+"i77"></a> <img src="images/077.gif" width="462" height="700" alt=
+"Illustration: He smiled away his debt of gratitude" /></div>
+<!-- Page 78 (blank facing page) -->
+<p>Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the
+bed, nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless
+woman can know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the
+judge slept in peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a
+series of long, loud, and unmelodious snores.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 89 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<p>CONVALESCENCE</p>
+<p>"Is that the Nelson pha&eacute;ton going out the road?" asked Mrs.
+Hollis as she peered out through the dining-room window one
+morning. "I shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson
+making her yearly visits, and here my bricks haven't been
+reddened."</p>
+<p>Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the
+first time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his
+close-cropped head. All through his illness he had been tortured by
+the thought that he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses
+could not have dragged forth a question concerning her.</p>
+<p>"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the
+sideboard with some unsavory <!-- Page 80 -->
+ furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here, you be sure to
+put on your white apron before you open the door; and for pity sake
+don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better than to stick
+out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you about that last
+week."</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey,
+dat's right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de
+judge is got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade
+yer Miss Sue not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de
+front yard wid dat ole sunbonnet on?'"</p>
+<p>"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do
+them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to
+let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech
+work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made
+Martha walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing
+it."</p>
+<!-- Page 81 -->
+<p>"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from
+the side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and
+a-reading a book with the other."</p>
+<p>"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They
+say she even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on
+her porch and smile at people going by, just like her house was
+cleaned up. I hate a hypocrite."</p>
+<p>Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long
+convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug
+little room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the
+neighbors. When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes
+grew too tired to look at the many magazines with which the judge
+supplied him, he would lie still and watch the little drama going
+on next door.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the
+impression of needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid
+hung out behind one ear, her waist hung out <!-- Page 82 -->
+of her belt, and even the buttons on her shoes hung out of the
+buttonholes in shameless laziness.</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He
+seemed to have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact
+that he was three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he
+emphasized it by wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and
+sleeves half-way to his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for
+on Sunday Sandy would see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in
+an ample suit of shiny broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of
+the Hard-Shell Baptist Church in Clayton, and if his domestic
+economy was a matter of open gossip, there was no question
+concerning the fact of his learning. It had been the boast of the
+congregation for years that Judge Hollis was the only man in town
+who was smart enough to understand his sermons. When Mr. Meech
+started out in the morning with a book under his arm and one
+sticking out of each <!-- Page 83 -->
+pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow to watch proceedings. He
+loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little man lovingly on the head
+and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha walk with him to the
+gate and throw kisses after him until he turned the curve in the
+road.</p>
+<p>Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and
+a long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when
+she came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and
+kissed her on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of
+watching for her at the side window where she came to study. He
+leaned forward now to see if she were there.</p>
+<p>"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder.
+"There comes the Nelson pha&eacute;ton this minute! Melvy, get on
+your white apron. I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the
+parlor door."</p>
+<p>"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors.</p>
+<p>"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss <!-- Page 84 -->
+Rufe," said Aunt Melvy, nervously trying to reverse her apron after
+tying the bow in the front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is
+quality, an' no mistake. I b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he
+done lef' her all his money, she an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter!
+Dey say he ain't got no lungs to speak of. Ain't no wonder he's
+sorter wild like. He takes after his grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor',
+honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze outen de pores ob his
+grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like none ob dem Nelsons;
+she favors her maw. She's quality inside an' out."</p>
+<p>A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations.
+Aunt Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her.
+At the front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the
+Nelsons in calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her
+acceptance. Too late she remembered her instructions.</p>
+<p>"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, <!-- Page 85 -->
+"ef I ain't done fergit dat pan ag'in!"</p>
+<p>Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every
+nerve a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she
+was here under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding
+through his veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket
+behind him, made his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up
+the back stairs.</p>
+<p>Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new
+suit of clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had
+bought him two days before. He had sat before it in speechless
+admiration; he had hung it in every possible light to get the full
+benefit of its beauty; he had even in the night placed it on a
+chair beside the bed, so that he could put out his hand in the dark
+and make sure it was there. For it was the first new suit of
+clothes that he remembered ever to have possessed. He had not
+intended to wear it until Sunday, <!-- Page 97 -->
+but the psychological moment had arrived.</p>
+<p>With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his
+toilet. He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with
+pride. The suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his
+shaven head gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy
+the reflection was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to
+be lacking. He meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving,
+picked up a small linen doily from the dresser, and carefully
+folding it, placed it in his breast-pocket, with one corner just
+visible.</p>
+<p>Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back
+steps, skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the
+house just as the Nelson pha&eacute;ton rolled out of the yard.
+Before he had time to give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope
+appeared on the horizon, for the pha&eacute;ton stopped, and there
+was evidently something the matter. Sandy did not wait for it to be
+<!-- Page 87 -->
+remedied. He ran down the road with all the speed he could
+muster.</p>
+<p>Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a
+slight embankment, and two wheels of the pha&eacute;ton had slipped
+over the edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it,
+sitting indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had
+evidently attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and
+unexpected seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic
+architecture; a massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic
+eyebrows which flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies.
+Her mouth, with its drooping corners, completed the series of
+arches, and the whole expression was one of aspiring melancholy and
+injured majesty.</p>
+<p>Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from
+her hands, was Ruth Nelson.</p>
+<p>"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving
+breathless.</p>
+<p>The girl looked up and shook her head <!-- Page 88 -->
+in smiling protest, but the Gothic lady promptly suffered a
+relapse.</p>
+<p>"I am&nbsp;I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud,
+and my glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!"</p>
+<p>Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy.</p>
+<p>"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the
+seat."</p>
+<p>Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the
+object of his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft
+ball he drew it forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman
+nose.</p>
+<p>She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh
+startled her.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to
+restrain her mirth.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition
+would permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may
+be internally injured." <!-- Page 89 -->
+She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that pha&eacute;ton back on
+the road?"</p>
+<p>Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the
+background, came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made
+several ineffectual efforts to lift it back to the road.</p>
+<p>"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from
+above. "Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a
+little more strength?"</p>
+<p>Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still
+smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it
+had been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and
+finally, with a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in
+the mud and lifted the pha&eacute;ton back on the road.</p>
+<p>Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and
+struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him.</p>
+<!-- Page 90 -->
+<p>"Why&nbsp;why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in
+dismay.</p>
+<p>Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's
+me bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the pha&eacute;ton, and taking a
+piece of money from her purse, held it out to him.</p>
+<p>"That will amply repay you," she said.</p>
+<p>Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip,
+heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult.
+Angry, impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step
+forward. Then he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had
+just stepped into the pha&eacute;ton. She shot a quick, indignant
+look at her aunt, then turned around and smiled a good-by to
+him.</p>
+<p>He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs.
+Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the
+avenue.</p>
+<p>Sandy went wearily back to the house. <!-- Page 91 -->
+He had made his first trial in behalf of his lady fair, but his
+soul knew no elation. His beautiful new armor had sustained
+irreparable injury, and his vanity had received a mortal wound.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 92 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<p>AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER</p>
+<p>It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west
+from Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it
+reached the barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The
+little cabin clung to the side of the steep slope like a bit of
+fungus to the trunk of a tree.</p>
+<p>In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and
+fair, and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting
+the revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed
+tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the
+water to boil.</p>
+<p>"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was <!-- Page 93 -->
+saying. "De jedge done start him in plumb at de foot up at de
+'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up right along."</p>
+<p>"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said
+Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times.
+They say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."</p>
+<p>"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come
+it over Miss Sue lak he done."</p>
+<p>"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint
+color coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of
+descanting upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge
+Hollis he would help him with his lessons, and that he thought it
+would be only a little while before he was up with the other
+boys."</p>
+<p>"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand
+he's going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"</p>
+<p>Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves.
+"Was he ever here <!-- Page 94 -->
+before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him somewhere,
+and I can't think where."</p>
+<p>"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the
+jolliest face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence
+b-back of the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy
+clear up over the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the
+r-rescue, and he swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a
+race-horse."</p>
+<p>"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he
+was&nbsp;he was a peddler."</p>
+<p>"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know
+him, it's no sign I am not g-going to."</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a
+pair of squeaking old bellows.</p>
+<p>Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell
+what's going to happen?" she asked timidly.</p>
+<!-- Page 95 -->
+<p>"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she
+was g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her
+aunt died and left her a turquoise-ring!"</p>
+<p>"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light
+her pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's
+what made me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come
+yit&nbsp;not yit. I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped
+unheeded, and she gazed with fixed eyes out of the window.</p>
+<p>"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.</p>
+<p>"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de
+lizards in my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese
+here little green lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de
+doctor 'bout hit, Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de
+fidgits. I knowed better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a
+division, an' de dream say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an'
+set wid yer feet in a barrel ob <!-- Page 96-->
+b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so I done,
+a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my purple
+mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de lizards
+run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."</p>
+<p>"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.</p>
+<p>"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de
+tea-leaves. Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer
+grandmaw! She kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an'
+she wuz jus' as putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation
+what's done burned down now, an' I lubed my missus&nbsp;I sutenly
+did. When my ole man fust come here from de country I nebber seen
+sech a fool. He didn't know no more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but
+I wuz better qualified. I jus' tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she
+fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will fergit de day we walk ober de
+plantation an' say we wuz married. George he had on a brand-new
+pair pants dat cost <!-- Page 97 -->
+two hundred an' sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."</p>
+<p>"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.</p>
+<p>"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from
+the crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and
+then with great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations
+poured the water over them.</p>
+<p>Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had
+drained the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.</p>
+<p>"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with
+b-blue eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be
+a farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You
+gwine raise chickens an' chillun."</p>
+<p>"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes
+b-blue?"</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. <!-- Page 98 -->
+"Well, now, 'pears to me he's sorter dark-complected an' fat, like
+Mr. Sid Gray," she said.</p>
+<p>"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."</p>
+<p>"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward
+eagerly.</p>
+<p>"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few
+broken leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer
+fortune. Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck
+bag; dey say ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in'
+death."</p>
+<p>"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.</p>
+<p>"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to
+warn you to carry dat good-luck bag all de time."</p>
+<p>"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious
+smile.</p>
+<p>For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep
+consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with
+<!-- Page 99 -->
+fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a
+sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.</p>
+<p>"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an
+old maid?"</p>
+<p>"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the
+superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I
+see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer
+cup!"</p>
+<p>"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into
+space, swaying and moaning.</p>
+<p>"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a
+gallus lak dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as
+day, de two poles an' de cross-beam."</p>
+<p>Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.</p>
+<p>"Is it for me?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but
+hit's in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 100 -->
+By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry.
+Her face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her
+nervousness and slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she
+whispered.</p>
+<p>"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness.
+Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be
+hanged, any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se
+gwine make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new
+moon holds water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to
+mind de signs; 't ain't safe."</p>
+<p>And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost
+to view behind the hill.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 101 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<p>TRANSITION</p>
+<p>The change from the road to the school-room was not without many
+a struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the
+strange language, were baffling.</p>
+<p>The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him
+to inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the
+astonishing report that she was sixty-one.</p>
+<p>"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified.</p>
+<p>Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he
+declared.</p>
+<p>Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything
+he said, to bring a <!-- Page 102 -->
+smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he sat on the
+kitchen steps in the evenings.</p>
+<p>"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically.
+"De same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to
+you some day."</p>
+<p>"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden
+head. Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can
+beat me figurin'."</p>
+<p>"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's
+what I always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs.
+Nelson's. I done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter
+say, 'You fool nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you
+don't ax questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph,
+umph; you don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense
+I ain't got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet
+an' go switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob
+buttermilk."</p>
+<!-- Page 103 -->
+<p>"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr.
+Moseley was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week
+when ye went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went
+round the other."</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day
+outen de week? Where'd he say you lost it at?"</p>
+<p>Sandy shook his head in perplexity.</p>
+<p>"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se
+s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem
+teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you
+pay 'em no mind."</p>
+<p>But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice
+about asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition
+until he mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to
+distinguish the difference between himself and those about him. The
+words and phrases that had passed current on the street seemed to
+ring <!-- Page 104 -->
+false here. He watched the judge covertly and took notes.</p>
+<p>His progress at the academy was a singular succession of
+triumphs and failures. His natural quickness, together with an
+enthusiastic ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place
+among the boys of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits
+and an inordinate love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit
+side of his school ledger. There were many times when he
+exasperated the judge to the limit of endurance, for he was
+reckless and impulsive, charged to the exploding-point with
+vitality, and ever and always the victim of his last caprice; but
+when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a question
+fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right, even
+though it proved him guilty.</p>
+<p>At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining
+on the farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a
+heretofore unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and
+efficiently <!-- Page 105 -->
+attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of
+toil"; and when he despatched his various chores and did even more
+than was required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated.</p>
+<p>It was something more, however, than his ability and service
+that won her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy
+around her, as a rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big,
+exuberant nature made no distinction: he swept over her, sharp
+edges and all; he teased her, coaxed her, petted her, laughed at
+her, turned her tirades with a bit of blarney, and in the end won
+her in spite of herself.</p>
+<p>"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared
+him puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den
+I knows dey are learnin' somethin'."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 106 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<p>WATERLOO</p>
+<p>It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached
+his junior year that his real achievement was put to the test.</p>
+<p>After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had
+seen Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at
+boarding-school, and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She
+was still the divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that
+always brought him back to the straight course. He looked upon her
+possible recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward
+in heaven. In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by
+less distant joys.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 107 -->
+The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he
+was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his
+reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it.</p>
+<p>One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with
+their books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward
+toward vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha
+relentlessly, beating out her frail strength, and leaving her
+weaker to combat each incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored
+hair lay smooth about her delicate face, and in her eyes was the
+strained look of one who seeks but is destined never to attain.</p>
+<p>"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently,
+"just to make sure you understand."</p>
+<p>"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in
+the grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin
+and the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here.
+<!-- Page 108 -->
+Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?"</p>
+<p>She nodded, and he went on:</p>
+<p>"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even
+think out in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the
+river, I'd never be minding the Latin again."</p>
+<p>Martha looked at him half timidly.</p>
+<p>"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy;
+you are always thinking the things the poets write about."</p>
+<p>"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the
+grass beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing
+rhymes, now, in a minute."</p>
+<p>"Why not?" she urged.</p>
+<p>"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one.
+They work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win
+the scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come
+to be a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart;
+and if I win out in the end, it will be for the love of some
+one&nbsp;some one who <!-- Page 109 -->
+cares more for that than for anything else in the world."</p>
+<p>She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird
+as it wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio
+and took from it a little sketch.</p>
+<p>"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all
+week," she said, with a deprecatory laugh.</p>
+<p>"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the
+shadows are slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell
+me? Are there more?"</p>
+<p>He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and
+exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in
+drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a
+vague instinct for the essence of things.</p>
+<p>"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit,
+but they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just
+hear the water going over those stones."</p>
+<p>Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For <!-- Page 110 -->
+a year she had reached forward blindly toward some outlet for her
+cramped, limited existence, and suddenly a way seemed open toward
+the light.</p>
+<p>"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am
+never going to show them to any one but you and mother and
+father."</p>
+<p>"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great
+artist you'll be some day."</p>
+<p>She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like
+a little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful
+garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never
+get to them."</p>
+<p>"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making
+money some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the
+country; and you will be getting well and strong, and we'll
+go&nbsp;"</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted.
+"Studying for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The
+<!-- Page 111 -->
+judge tells me that you have a good chance to win the
+scholarship."</p>
+<p>"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you,
+Mr. Meech, do ye think the same?"</p>
+<p>"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish
+the work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy,
+stands an excellent chance."</p>
+<p>Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be
+in me, it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he
+swung his books across his shoulder and started home.</p>
+<p>Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a
+backward look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed
+in sailing a broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to
+drop her basket and start after him in hot pursuit.</p>
+<p>That evening the judge glanced across the table with great
+satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The
+boy, after all, was a student; he was <!-- Page 112 -->
+justifying the money and time that had been spent upon him; he was
+proving a credit to his benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge
+of human nature.</p>
+<p>"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke
+in Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration.</p>
+<p>"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to
+wonder again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying.</p>
+<p>"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr.
+Moseley, the principal of the academy.</p>
+<p>Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter
+ponderously. He regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth
+to dispose of any subject in words of less than three
+syllables.</p>
+<p>"Your proteacute;geacute;, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous
+proposition. He possesses invention and originality, but he is
+sadly lacking in sustained concentration."</p>
+<p>"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win
+it?"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 113 -->
+Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a
+problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most
+insidious enemy with which he has to contend."</p>
+<p>"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously.</p>
+<p>"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky
+solemnity, "the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!"</p>
+<p>It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon
+after reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting
+for all his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had
+crossed the ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for.</p>
+<p>There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of
+concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work
+during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the
+great mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel
+rate during the years he had <!-- Page 114 -->
+spent out of school. He was making gallant progress when a
+catastrophe occurred.</p>
+<p>The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in
+Lexington between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set
+for June 2. And June 2 was the day which cruel fate&nbsp;masked as
+the board of trustees&mdash;had set for the academy examinations.
+Sandy was the only member of the team who attended the academy, and
+upon him alone rested the full agony of renunciation. His
+disappointment was so utterly crushing that it affected the whole
+family.</p>
+<p>"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge.</p>
+<p>"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could
+play," said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in
+the bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me
+place!"</p>
+<p>For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The
+one topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found
+the strain too great to be borne. <!-- Page 115 -->
+The team was to go to Lexington on the noon train with a mighty
+company of loyal followers. Every boy and girl who could meet the
+modest expenses was going, save the unfortunate victims of the
+junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton had even had a dress
+made in the Clayton colors.</p>
+<p>As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like
+a rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a
+cool little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny
+banner of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was
+having a final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team,
+glorious in new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of
+campaign. Little boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to
+come out and give a bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting
+warriors. Maidens in crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons
+fluttered about in a tremor of anticipation.</p>
+<p>Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over <!-- Page 116 -->
+his eyes, went up Back street. If he could not make the devil get
+behind him, he at least could get behind the devil. Without a
+moment's hesitation he would have given ten years of sober
+middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth on the Lexington
+diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the grand stand to
+be won.</p>
+<p>He tried not to keep step with the music&mdash;he even tried to
+think of quadratic equations&mdash;as he marched heroically on to
+the academy. His was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing
+life for a good but hopeless cause.</p>
+<p>Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked
+around to the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and
+wanted, if possible, to find out the result of the examination
+before going home. The report of the scholarship won would
+reconcile him to his disappointment.</p>
+<p>At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a
+queer smile. They both asked the same question:</p>
+<!-- Page 117 -->
+<p>"Where's Sandy?"</p>
+<p>As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street
+leading down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious
+crowd; bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while
+shrill girlish voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in
+the air on the shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and
+success, sat the delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved
+itself into one mighty cheer:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"Kilday, Kilday!<br /></span> <span>Won
+the day.<br /></span> <span>Hooray!"<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 118 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<p>"THE LIGHT THAT LIES"</p>
+<p>During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his
+failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent
+of abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval
+shown by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken
+reproaches, and groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.</p>
+<p>"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone,
+"I had set my heart on taking you into the office after next year.
+I had counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year
+at the academy."</p>
+<p>"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but
+if ye'll trust me the <!-- Page 119 -->
+one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever stir out of
+them!"</p>
+<p>So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read
+law with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing
+could have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp
+and his feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's
+desire.</p>
+<p>Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not
+listen at all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of
+attention, an utter absorption in the subject, that carried him
+straight to the heart of the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously
+receiving a life-imprint of the old judge's native nobility.</p>
+<p>From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the
+post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon
+on board the steamship <i>America</i>. But since then his funds had
+run rather low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result
+was a chronic state of bankruptcy.</p>
+<!-- Page 120 -->
+<p>"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It
+is not easy to live within an income."</p>
+<p>"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from
+deep experience.</p>
+<p>After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat;
+when he did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed.</p>
+<p>"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and
+disconsolate on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep
+her this long. The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's
+so patient it's enough to break your heart."</p>
+<p>Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and
+back, in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit.
+Then he wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that
+it brought the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the
+basket with the note and left them at her door, after which he
+promptly forgot all about her. For his whole purpose in life these
+days, aside from assisting the government <!-- Page 121 -->
+in the distribution of mail and reading a musty old volume of
+Blackstone, was learning to dance.</p>
+<p>In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had
+received an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the
+social excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into
+society, and he was determined to acquit himself with credit.</p>
+<p>He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the
+post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried
+elaborate and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the
+mildest "reel chune" a direct communication from the devil. The
+moment the post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where
+Annette was taking him through a course of private lessons.</p>
+<p>Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street.
+Opening the door, one passed into a small square hall where the
+Confederate flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On
+every side <!-- Page 122 -->
+were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive
+battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull
+Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the
+unreconstructed little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his
+gray felt hat, which he removed only when he ate and slept.</p>
+<p>Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was
+doing sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with
+Annette, and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim
+sheet known as "The Confederate Veteran."</p>
+<p>It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In
+fact, the doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was
+occasionally guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with
+Annette.</p>
+<p>"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the
+'Veteran.' Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew!
+That's his picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever
+pulled a trigger."</p>
+<!-- Page 123 -->
+<p>"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy.</p>
+<p>The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir!
+I never knew a rebel."</p>
+<p>"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy,
+trying to cover his blunder.</p>
+<p>"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll
+be buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a
+farm. Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by
+mistake. Ever look over these maps? This was the battle
+of&mdash;"</p>
+<p>A door opened and a light head was thrust out.</p>
+<p>"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and
+over. Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy."</p>
+<p>A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's
+voice was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy
+went through violent contortions <!-- Page 124 -->
+in his efforts to waltz. He had his tongue firmly between his teeth
+and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he revolved in
+furniture&mdash;destroying circles about the small parlor.</p>
+<p>"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You
+d-dance with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano."</p>
+<p>"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the
+chair at the piano, but I'll dance with no chair."</p>
+<p>Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked
+up at him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look
+more like a child than ever.</p>
+<p>"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many
+feet!"</p>
+<p>"The more of me to love ye."</p>
+<p>"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking
+at him sidewise.</p>
+<p>"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the
+warning never to <!-- Page 125 -->
+look at me when you fix your mouth like that?"</p>
+<p>She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that <i>g</i>'s
+were fatal.</p>
+<p>A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended
+dudgeon, while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other.</p>
+<p>"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without
+the asking! I'll be good now&mdash;honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll
+shut me eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation.
+Won't ye be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must
+do?"</p>
+<p>Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe.
+She used them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck,
+fastened her belt, and on state occasions even adorned her
+shoe-buckles.</p>
+<p>"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to
+everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one
+g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting
+out."</p>
+<!-- Page 126 -->
+<p>"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the
+intricacies of society are manifold.</p>
+<p>"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you
+like dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the
+man's shoulder, and then she d-dances with you."</p>
+<p>"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding
+at all why he should have the preference.</p>
+<p>"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl
+so m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little
+corner and talk to her than to d-dance with her."</p>
+<p>"That'll never be me," cried Sandy&mdash;"not while the band
+plays."</p>
+<p>"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and
+scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion
+on his, they struggled onward toward success.</p>
+<p>In the midst of the lesson there was a <!-- Page 127 -->
+low whistle at the side window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and
+put her finger to her lips.</p>
+<p>"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come
+here."</p>
+<p>"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy.</p>
+<p>Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden
+fruit. She tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few
+inches.</p>
+<p>At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate
+face, over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on
+every feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot,
+and there was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed
+back the shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was
+an easy grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes
+that would have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than
+the one who smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains.</p>
+<p>He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her
+hair.</p>
+<!-- Page 128 -->
+<p>"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?"</p>
+<p>She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the
+interior of the room.</p>
+<p>At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy
+Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed
+monster whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he
+composed a few comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended
+to bestow upon Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness
+was a thing not to be tolerated. She had confessed her preference
+for him over all others; she must and should prove it. Just when
+his indignation had reached the exploding-point, he heard his name
+called.</p>
+<p>"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home!
+Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been
+gone nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my
+life."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 129 -->
+Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without
+apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the
+street.</p>
+<p>When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was
+leaning against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of
+the tail of his eye he watched the passengers alight.</p>
+<p>There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with
+children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl
+with curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a
+saint in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit,
+with a bit of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was
+not the little girl he was looking for, but he transferred his
+devotion at a bound; for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered
+her tenfold more worshipful than before.</p>
+<p>He watched her descend from her pedestal, <!-- Page 130 -->
+bestow an affectionate kiss upon her brother, then look eagerly
+around for other familiar faces. In one heart-suspending instant
+her eyes met his, she hesitated in confusion, then blushed and
+bowed.</p>
+<p>Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town
+pump wore a halo of glorified rosy mist.</p>
+<p>At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a
+sudden descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in
+spite of violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and
+deposited her breathless upon the milk-bench.</p>
+<p>"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy,
+who had watched the performance with great glee.</p>
+<p>"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating
+figure. "He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful
+cold, he's powerful hot."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 131 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<p>ANTICIPATION</p>
+<p>The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the
+post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the
+festivities to come.</p>
+<p>Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much
+consultation and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of
+clothes. Then he rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of
+three other boys who had each counted upon it for the coming
+hop.</p>
+<p>With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He
+spread the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each,
+and a necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and
+admired.</p>
+<!-- Page 132 -->
+<p>"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed
+with delight.</p>
+<p>His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they
+lost much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps
+before the mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for
+he foresaw the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for
+dingy every-day garments.</p>
+<p>Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts
+in the kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval.</p>
+<p>"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed
+past the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants,
+ef you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn
+'em? Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was
+wearin' 'em!"</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a
+"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the
+black sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get
+religion and the untiring <!-- Page 133 -->
+efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year after year
+she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and failing each
+time to "come th'u'."</p>
+<p>This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and
+produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen.</p>
+<p>Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome
+there. Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her
+one dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums.
+Every year she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles,
+beaten biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the
+blue ribbon.</p>
+<p>"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's
+stifling, but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on
+in the house?"</p>
+<p>Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if
+they were not a part of the house.</p>
+<p>"Can't ye tell me something that's good <!-- Page 134 -->
+for the sunburn?" asked Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up
+shooting-cracker I'll be resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine
+clothes."</p>
+<p>"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she
+placed the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.</p>
+<p>Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add
+one charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there
+were none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for
+dinner.</p>
+<p>"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy
+enter the dining-room with his hat on.</p>
+<p>"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically.
+"And if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just
+washed my hair, and I want it to dry straight."</p>
+<p>The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks
+around the brim of the stiff hat and smiled.</p>
+<!-- Page 135 -->
+<p>"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many
+pages of Blackstone to-day?"</p>
+<p>Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she
+betrayed him.</p>
+<p>"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would
+think he was going to get married."</p>
+<p>"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily.</p>
+<p>The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm.
+"You mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine
+progress, and I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far;
+I'll help you to the top if you'll keep a steady head."</p>
+<p>"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old
+Moseley's promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't
+climb the ladder, with you at one end and success at the other,
+then I'm not much of a chicken&mdash;I mean I'm not much."</p>
+<p>"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs.
+Hollis as she moved <!-- Page 136 -->
+the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the gate, and we
+don't have any peace until you know who it is."</p>
+<p>"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a
+corn-dodger and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the
+friendship that's sprung up between Annette Fenton and young
+Nelson. I don't know what the doctor's thinking about to let it go
+on. Nelson is hitting a pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll
+never live to reap his wild oats, though. He came into the world
+with consumption, and I don't think he will be long getting out of
+it. He's always getting into difficulty. I have had to fine him
+twice in the past month for gambling. Do you see anything of him,
+Sandy?"</p>
+<p>"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more
+than once at Carter's condescension.</p>
+<p>"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs
+blinds have been closed all day."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 137 -->
+Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at
+his special request.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the
+table.</p>
+<p>When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his
+hand.</p>
+<p>"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's
+coughing her life away. It's a shame&mdash;and a shame!" he cried
+in hot rebellion.</p>
+<p>All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy
+taking place next door. He paced back and forth between the two
+houses, begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of
+impossible things.</p>
+<p>When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books,
+at first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and
+more interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve
+about a case that was decided in a previous century.</p>
+<p>When he rose it was almost dusk, and he <!-- Page 138 -->
+came back to the present world with a start. His first thought was
+of Ruth and the rapturous prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a
+swift doubt followed as to whether a white tie or a black one was
+proper; then a sudden fear that he had forgotten how to dance. He
+jumped to his feet, took a couple of steps&mdash;when he remembered
+Martha.</p>
+<p>The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the
+sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy
+was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the
+door to the parlor.</p>
+<p>The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was
+carefully wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers
+hung on the walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper
+table. In the dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a
+room.</p>
+<p>Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper
+piano, untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and
+<!-- Page 139 -->
+began to sing in an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his
+heart since they were first dropped there by the merry mother lips,
+stirred and awoke. The accompaniment limped along lamely enough;
+but the singer, with hat over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose,
+sang on as only a poet and lover can. His rich, full voice lingered
+on the soft Celtic syllables, dwelt tenderly on the diminutive
+endearments, while his heart, overcharged with sorrow and joy and
+romance and dreams, spilled over in an ecstasy of song.</p>
+<p>Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final
+flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the
+twilight, listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel
+choir.</p>
+<p>"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the
+light to her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love,
+and life itself could give no more.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 140 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<p>THE COUNTY FAIR</p>
+<p>The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as
+completely and evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air
+floated that sweetest of all music to the childish ear&mdash;the
+unceasing wail of expiring balloons; and childish souls were held
+together in one sticky ecstasy of molasses candy and pop-corn
+balls.</p>
+<p>Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of
+the lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which,
+though constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the
+charging steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his
+tight Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same
+procession <!-- Page 141 -->
+at every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb
+and loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the
+strangers and invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs.
+Hollis reveled in a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted
+Mr. Moseley, sending search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in
+order to discover the academy boys who might be wasting their time
+upon unlettered femininity.</p>
+<p>At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was
+the courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side
+met to measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the
+races.</p>
+<p>In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below,
+but this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from
+the boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown,
+bade him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of
+his irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With
+hands in pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared
+<!-- Page 142 -->
+gloomily over the crowd. Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear,
+but he did not turn.</p>
+<p>Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with
+Carter Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and
+the largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert
+countenance of Sid Gray.</p>
+<p>Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a
+Spartan hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the
+flames.</p>
+<p>This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for
+opportunity of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was
+slipping away, and she did not even know he was there.</p>
+<p>He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his
+stoutness and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had
+slipped up at the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the
+back of the seat; it was plump and white. Sandy held out
+<!-- Page 143 -->
+his own broad, muscular palm, hardened and roughened by work. Then
+he put it in his pocket again and sighed.</p>
+<p>The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons
+and stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming
+with laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should
+he allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of
+escape? He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising
+abruptly, he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the
+courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one.
+It was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock
+almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she
+had spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the
+rest in his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his
+hand.</p>
+<p>The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the
+bass drum performed a solo inside his head during the
+<!-- Page 144 -->
+moment that followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of
+bright brown eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in
+his.</p>
+<p>This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the
+promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some
+one was pushing roughly through the crowd.</p>
+<p>"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!"</p>
+<p>A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His
+suit of broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud
+were strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth,
+and bushy hair were hatefully familiar.</p>
+<p>Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the
+stranger looked at him and said:</p>
+<p>"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!"</p>
+<p>Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the
+courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never
+occurred to him to be angry.</p>
+<!-- Page 145 -->
+<p>"What brought you back?" he asked huskily.</p>
+<p>"Hosses."</p>
+<p>"Are you going to drive this afternoon?"</p>
+<p>"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he
+added, "he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know
+him?"</p>
+<p>"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to
+be rid of his companion.</p>
+<p>"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the
+races straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips.
+Say, he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows
+me when he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good
+these days?"</p>
+<p>"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently.</p>
+<p>"You ain't goin' to school yet?"</p>
+<p>"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds
+out."</p>
+<p>"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be
+hikin' back. The next <!-- Page 146 -->
+is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!"</p>
+<p>He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until
+it was lost in the crowd.</p>
+<p>That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed
+a wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged
+inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her
+hand, and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too,
+had not the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at
+that moment.</p>
+<p>The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary
+way. He had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange
+manoeuvers about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When
+he saw Sandy he opened fire.</p>
+<p>"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she
+talks to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not
+looking, sir, she talks <!-- Page 147 -->
+to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking his finger
+impressively, "that little girl is as slick as&mdash;a blame
+Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take
+her home."</p>
+<p>Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the
+doctor had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the
+watch-dog for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter
+Nelson gets a word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how
+to talk."</p>
+<p>"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard.
+I'd rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's
+wilful, Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little
+pink toes curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her
+shoes when she wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added,
+with a gruff chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've
+got."</p>
+<p>Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the
+courting-box. <!-- Page 148 -->
+Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not look up as he
+passed.</p>
+<p>He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the
+indignation of little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's
+patronizing tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the
+turn of his head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth.</p>
+<p>Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely
+too limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew
+from past experience that Sandy and Carter were much better
+matched. If Sid Gray had been there also, she would have been quite
+happy. In Annette's estimation it was all a mistake about love
+being a game for two.</p>
+<p>"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy.</p>
+<p>"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly.</p>
+<p>Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I
+believe?"</p>
+<p>"Before he was yours," said Sandy.</p>
+<p>This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even
+thinking about her.</p>
+<!-- Page 149 -->
+<p>"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked
+Sandy.</p>
+<p>"The first four."</p>
+<p>She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?"</p>
+<p>"The last four."</p>
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+<p>"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing."</p>
+<p>"But it is. Let me see."</p>
+<p>"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking
+advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand.</p>
+<p>"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!"</p>
+<p>She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of
+himself sewed on one of the slats.</p>
+<p>"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I
+knew it, you rascal, you rogue!"</p>
+<p>"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding.
+"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's
+<!-- Page 150 -->
+chagrin, she opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a
+picture of Nelson.</p>
+<p>But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole
+attention was centered on the ring, where the most important event
+of the day was about to take place.</p>
+<p>It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There
+were four entries&mdash;two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little
+thoroughbred "Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the
+ring under Ricks's skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from
+the bays, but the sorrel was a close competitor.</p>
+<p>"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band
+struck up "Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just
+c-coming, with the ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't
+he?"</p>
+<p>Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace.</p>
+<p>The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third
+brought the grand stand to <!-- Page 151 -->
+its feet. Even the revolving procession halted breathless.</p>
+<p>"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they
+g-go! Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the
+sorrel's ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's
+g-going to smash in&mdash;Oh, look!"</p>
+<p>There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women
+screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got
+there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who
+lay in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised
+head; it was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and
+indignation.</p>
+<p>The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,&mdash;the big,
+easy-going judge,&mdash;whose passion, once roused, was a thing to
+be reckoned with.</p>
+<p>"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw
+what he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to
+the full extent of the law."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 152 -->
+Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously
+around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but
+Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and
+instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You
+know it wasn't none of my fault."</p>
+<p>Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the
+sight of Ricks so much as at that moment.</p>
+<p>"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge&mdash;"the boy I
+used to peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir.
+I'll&mdash;I'll go his bail if you'll be letting him go."</p>
+<p>"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money
+you've saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this
+rascal, this half murderer!"</p>
+<p>The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff.
+Ricks was not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a
+lively skirmish ensued.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 153 -->
+As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his
+fist in the judge's face.</p>
+<p>"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to
+hell fer it!"</p>
+<p>The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart
+with troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 154 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<p>A COUNCIL OF WAR</p>
+<p>While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the
+festivities of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave
+and thoughtful contingent, which acts as ballast in every
+community, was idle.</p>
+<p>Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against
+dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed
+to preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening
+of the hop.</p>
+<p>They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of
+the Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a
+Jove of righteousness dispensing <!-- Page 155 -->
+thunderbolts of indignation to his satellites. A fringe of scant
+hair retreated respectfully from the unadorned dome which crowned
+his personal edifice. His manner was most serious and his every
+utterance freighted with importance.</p>
+<p>Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist
+preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a
+way of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical
+imitation of a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in
+the history of the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly
+concord. For the last few days the united war upon a common enemy
+had knitted their souls in a bond of brotherly affection.</p>
+<p>When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose
+with dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the
+occasion is one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is
+one which has menaced our community for generations&mdash;a viper
+to be seized and throttled with a <!-- Page 156 -->
+firm hand. The waltz, the&mdash;the Highland fling,
+the&mdash;the&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"German?" suggested some one faintly.</p>
+<p>"Yes, the german&mdash;are all invasions of the Evil One. The
+crowded rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and
+debasing. I am glad to report one young soul who has turned from
+temptation and told me only to-day of his intention of refraining
+from partaking in the unrighteous amusement of this evening. That,
+brethren, was the nephew of my pastor."</p>
+<p>The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light
+cast from the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He
+was contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making
+the lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming
+examinations at the academy.</p>
+<p>Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was
+just concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he
+cried. "Who can behold and not shudder?"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 157 -->
+Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder,
+ventured a timid inquiry:</p>
+<p>"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?"</p>
+<p>Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer
+the window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?"</p>
+<p>With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to
+which the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped
+apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow
+of Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official
+occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the
+shrinking habit established by its predecessors.</p>
+<p>"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my
+shoulder."</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious
+apprehensions as to the revelations to follow.</p>
+<p>"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your
+waist&mdash;thus."</p>
+<!-- Page 158 -->
+<p>"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment.</p>
+<p>But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And
+the other hand&mdash;" He stopped in grave deliberation. The
+Methodist brother, who had been growing more and more overcharged
+with suppressed knowledge, could contain himself no longer.</p>
+<p>"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't
+hook your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw
+it up and down&mdash;like this."</p>
+<p>He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace,
+and humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to
+the consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet
+under their chairs.</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity,
+stumbled on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In
+his downfall he carried his instructor with <!-- Page 159 -->
+him, and a deluge of tracts from the table above followed.</p>
+<p>In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church
+next door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was
+the opening hymn for prayer-meeting.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 160 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<p>HELL AND HEAVEN</p>
+<p>The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were
+soon dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed
+right of way over every other thought.</p>
+<p>By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had
+been ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine;
+but he was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as
+fixed as the numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should
+attend prayer-meeting as usual before the dance.</p>
+<p>In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had
+assembled and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He
+appeared singularly flushed and breathless, <!-- Page 161 -->
+and caused some confusion by giving out the hymn which had just
+been sung. It was not until he became stirred by the power of his
+theme that he gained composure.</p>
+<p>In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next
+to him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat,
+sat Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful
+frame of mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes
+riveted on the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For,
+stationary though he was, he was really giving himself the benefit
+of a final rehearsal, and mentally performing steps of intricate
+and marvelous variety.</p>
+<p>"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my
+dress."</p>
+<p>"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?"
+asked Sandy, anxiously.</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in
+plaintive reproach.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 162 -->
+Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing
+length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and
+Sandy had escaped to their reward.</p>
+<p>The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room
+with a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced
+instruments and notes that had never met before.</p>
+<p>To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses
+moved to the music of the spheres.</p>
+<p>"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and
+a slide. "I could just d-die dancing."</p>
+<p>"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy.</p>
+<p>"That's to keep the stags b-back."</p>
+<p>"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication.</p>
+<p>"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay
+b-back of the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on
+right away. There's your d-dressing-room <!-- Page 163 -->
+over there. Don't bother about my card; it's been filled a week. Is
+there anyb-body you want to dance with especially?"</p>
+<p>Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the
+center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else.</p>
+<p>Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped,
+bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with
+buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept
+impatient time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and
+she swayed and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves
+dancing.</p>
+<p>It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had
+belonged to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her
+round white throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in
+waiting to a queen of France. He only knew she meant everything
+beautiful in the world to him,&mdash;music and springtime and
+dawn,&mdash;and that when she smiled it was sunlight in his
+heart.</p>
+<!-- Page 164 -->
+<p>"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette,
+following his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find
+out, if you w-want me to."</p>
+<p>"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then
+he stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think
+she'll be caring to dance with a boy like me?"</p>
+<p>"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget
+to count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to
+try it before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you
+to bump into now, and there will be a hundred after a while."</p>
+<p>O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he
+could dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears
+and boldly launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was
+breathless, carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful
+uncertainty he settled into the step and glided away over the
+shining floor, <!-- Page 165 -->
+counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward
+behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons.</p>
+<p>He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met
+to dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in
+imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him
+the last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment
+until that magic hour should arrive.</p>
+<p>But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails
+were set and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster
+which promptly relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not
+dance!</p>
+<p>When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and
+vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a
+very long time.</p>
+<p>"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out
+of the crowd, and have a nice long talk."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 166 -->
+Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from
+base.</p>
+<p>"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered
+helplessly.</p>
+<p>"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully,
+"I have heard <i>so</i> much about you and your awfully romantic
+life. I just want to know all about it."</p>
+<p>As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking
+with the best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank,
+gasping and helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against
+the wall, with the insistent voice of his captor droning in his
+ears.</p>
+<p>She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly
+started the pendulum.</p>
+<p>"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a
+dear place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now.
+All my men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers
+I had to keep <!-- Page 167 -->
+them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love men.
+How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"</p>
+<p>He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager
+pursuit of a red rose that flashed in and out among the
+dancers.</p>
+<p>"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were
+just a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and
+all of them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour
+through the States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic
+for any use. I love adventure. My two best friends are at the
+theological seminary. One's going to India,&mdash;he's a
+blond,&mdash;and one to Africa. Just between us, I am going with
+one of them, but I can't for the life of me make up my mind which.
+I don't know why I am telling you all these things, Mr. Kilday,
+except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You understand, don't
+you?"</p>
+<p>He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was
+necessary, for he did not <!-- Page 168 -->
+want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.</p>
+<p>"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I
+felt that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just
+full of magnetism."</p>
+<p>Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden
+uncomfortable realization that he was the only one within the
+sphere of influence.</p>
+<p>After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the
+drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met
+Annette.</p>
+<p>"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought
+you didn't like to sit out d-dances."</p>
+<p>He smiled feebly.</p>
+<p>"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to
+talk better than to dance, it's our own affair."</p>
+<p>Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they
+returned, they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently
+considering them permanent occupants, <!-- Page 169 -->
+assumed an air of familiarity which he resented.</p>
+<p>"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine,"
+resumed the voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real
+lover I ever had. His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours,
+and there was always that same look in his face that just made me
+want to stay with him all the time to keep him from being lonely.
+He was awfully fond of me, but he had to go out West to make his
+fortune, and he married before he got back."</p>
+<p>Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own
+sad fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied
+him his state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the
+dancers beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no
+relief in view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water
+again, after which they returned to their seats.</p>
+<p>"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a
+pleased laugh. "I oughtn't <!-- Page 170 -->
+to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly fatal for a girl
+to show such preference for one man. But we are so congenial, and
+you do remind me&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"If it's embarrassing to you&mdash;" began Sandy, grasping the
+straw with both hands.</p>
+<p>"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good
+confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little
+girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling
+you, I met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me
+right off&mdash;"</p>
+<p>On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank
+in his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking
+ever since he was born, and was going to continue until he died,
+and that all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He
+watched the flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the
+boys their wilted collars! After eons and eons of time the band
+played "Home, Sweet Home."</p>
+<p>"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't <!-- Page 171 -->
+you sorry? We've had a perfectly divine time&mdash;" She got no
+further, for her partner, faithful through many numbers, had
+deserted his post at last.</p>
+<p>Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at
+Ruth's side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps,
+her cheeks flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling
+across her bare shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the
+words, too long confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a
+blockade.</p>
+<p>She looked up and saw him&mdash;saw the longing and doubt in his
+eyes, and came to his rescue.</p>
+<p>"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half
+timidly.</p>
+<p>In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully
+practised bow, and the omission brought such chagrin that he
+started out with the wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound,
+and a quarter of a yard of lace trailed from the hem of his
+partner's skirt.</p>
+<!-- Page 172 -->
+<p>"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning
+consternation that Ruth laughed.</p>
+<p>"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to
+pin it up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss
+the music."</p>
+<p>He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor.
+The blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably
+sweet.</p>
+<p>She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two,
+three). Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one,
+two, three). What if he should miss a step (one, two,
+three)&mdash;or fall?</p>
+<p>He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he
+forgot all about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had
+that morning on shipboard when the <i>America</i> passed the
+<i>Great Britain</i>. All the joy of boyhood resurged through his
+veins, and he danced in a wild abandonment of bliss; for the band
+was playing "Home, Sweet <!-- Page 175 -->
+Home," and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her
+shining eyes his gipsy soul had found its final home.</p>
+<!-- Page 173 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 443px;"><a name="i173" id=
+"i173"></a> <img src="images/173.gif" width="443" height="700" alt=
+"Illustration: Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time" />
+</div>
+<!-- Page 174 (blank facing page) -->
+<p>When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing,
+at the dressing-room door, Ruth said:</p>
+<p>"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!"</p>
+<p>"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me
+before!"</p>
+<p>When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled.</p>
+<p>"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly
+horrid time you've had!"</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 176 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<p>THE NELSON HOME</p>
+<p>Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the
+river, just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom
+of fields and meadows.</p>
+<p>It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows
+and verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and
+sheltered by a wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded
+both approval and disapproval over many generations of Nelsons.</p>
+<p>In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was
+laid for three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper,
+while at the head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second
+biscuit. It was vulgar, <!-- Page 177 -->
+in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two biscuits
+at a meal.</p>
+<p>When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk
+of his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance
+to his eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to
+take charge of Ruth until that young lady should become of age.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The
+prospect of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the
+social labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties
+that had long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and
+obedient young person began to develop tastes of her own that she
+found the burden irksome.</p>
+<p>Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the
+remaining three she insisted upon spending in the old home at
+Clayton, where Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his
+summers. Hitherto Mrs. Nelson had compromised with her. By
+<!-- Page 178 -->
+adroit management she contrived to keep her, for weeks at a time,
+at various summer resorts, where she expected her to serve a sort
+of social apprenticeship which would fit her for her future
+career.</p>
+<p>At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs.
+Nelson confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had
+existed in embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her
+first summer out of school, the foolish girl announced her
+intention of going to Willowvale for an indefinite stay.</p>
+<p>It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs.
+Nelson to lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of
+civilization; there was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too
+much out of doors. She disliked nature in its crude state; she
+preferred it softened and toned down to drawing-room pitch.</p>
+<p>She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the
+hall.</p>
+<p>"<!-- Page 179 -->Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she
+said to the colored girl at her side.</p>
+<p>Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore
+her riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning
+canter.</p>
+<p>"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did
+the mare behave herself?"</p>
+<p>"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old
+mill-dam, 'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm
+perfectly famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette,
+and&mdash;and everything you have."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them
+carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept
+after being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one
+roll brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon."</p>
+<p>"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to
+miss a half-day."</p>
+<!-- Page 180 -->
+<p>"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter.</p>
+<p>"Why, yes&mdash;" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her:</p>
+<p>"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You
+aren't well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on
+her face. It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses
+will be worse than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to
+do in this stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all
+summer."</p>
+<p>This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two
+young people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained
+to address her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the
+big, old-fashioned room and sighed.</p>
+<p>"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany
+buried here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to
+think that the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until
+Ruth is of age! <!-- Page 181 -->
+What <i>do</i> you suppose your dear grandfather <i>could</i> have
+been thinking of?"</p>
+<p>This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained
+suspended in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering
+attention.</p>
+<p>"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of?
+About the place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep
+it."</p>
+<p>Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I!
+The day it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the
+other going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."</p>
+<p>"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.</p>
+<p>He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've
+bothered your head about me ever since you were born."</p>
+<p>She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked
+at him wistfully.</p>
+<p>"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!"
+he said, with a curl of the lip.</p>
+<!-- Page 182 -->
+<p>"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.</p>
+<p>"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place
+else. I don't think I could ever bear to sell it."</p>
+<p>"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't
+be sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your deacute;but,
+you'll feel very different about things. Of course the place must
+be sold: it can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to
+spend another summer in Clayton. You could not stay here
+alone."</p>
+<p>Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of
+the window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden
+of Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded
+little hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been
+allowed to grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life.
+The glamour of those old days still clung to the place, and made
+her love everything connected with it. The front gate, with its
+wide <!-- Page 183 -->
+white posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year
+her grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress.
+The huge green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where
+she and Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a
+burying-ground when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice
+house, with its steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing
+experience when she was six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn
+gown, and bade her do it again.</p>
+<p>It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they
+were friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into
+all sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with
+a heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and
+pretend to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees,
+where a coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the
+other. She had often built a romance about them as she watched them
+peeping at each other through the leaves.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 184 -->
+Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away
+to the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above
+the lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the
+flowers. And the fields and the river and the house and the trees
+were hers,&mdash;hers and Carter's,&mdash;and neither could sell
+without the consent of the other. She took a deep breath of
+satisfaction. The prospect of living alone in the old homestead
+failed to appal her.</p>
+<p>"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the
+crest on the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She
+wants us to spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a
+handsome cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr.
+Warrenton, Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton."</p>
+<p>"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him&mdash;the one that didn't
+have any neck."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for
+patience; then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do,
+<!-- Page 185 -->
+that it is absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you
+to meet people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to
+start on Wednesday?"</p>
+<p>"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having
+such a good time, and&mdash;" she broke off impulsively. "But I
+know it's dull for you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with
+Carter. I'll do everything you say if you will only let me
+stay."</p>
+<p>Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life
+was to cultivate Clayton&mdash;the distinguished, exclusive,
+aristocratic society of Clayton."</p>
+<p>She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly:
+"Please don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to
+stay. You know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like.
+They think I am queer. I can't be happy where they are."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my
+opinions are of no <!-- Page 186 -->
+weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most impolitic
+to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into the
+most desirable set; and even if she is a little&mdash;" she
+searched a moment for a word&mdash;"a little liberal in her views,
+one can overlook that on account of her generosity. She is a very
+influential woman, Ruth, and a very wealthy one."</p>
+<p>Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt
+Clara; and I don't want you to ask me to go there."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very
+well," she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point
+out your duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak
+about, and that is your associating so familiarly with these
+townspeople. They are impertinent; they take advantages, and forget
+who we are. Why, the blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the
+dear major as 'Bob.'"</p>
+<p>"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and
+he shook hands <!-- Page 187 -->
+with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'"</p>
+<p>"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you <i>any</i>
+family pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to
+visit the Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled
+skilfully, and its summary dismissal was a sore trial to her.</p>
+<p>In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry,
+Aunt Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll
+try&mdash;"</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to
+Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given
+every advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon
+throwing away her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no
+longer to be consulted&mdash;no longer to be considered." She
+sought the seclusion of her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour
+swayed with emotion.</p>
+<p>Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces.
+This discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by
+repetition. <!-- Page 188 -->
+Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable?</p>
+<p>"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She
+will have more sense when she is older. She's just got her little
+head turned by all the attention she has had since coming home.
+There isn't a boy in the county who wouldn't make love to her at
+the drop of her eyelash. She was the belle of the hop last night;
+had the boys about her three deep most of the time."</p>
+<p>"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one
+eye. "Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going!
+What do you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance
+in a public hall!"</p>
+<p>"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter,
+pouring himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and
+stupid."</p>
+<p>"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when
+they played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could <!-- Page 189 -->
+have begun and gone right through it again."</p>
+<p>"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with
+that Kilday boy?"</p>
+<p>"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was
+instantly alert.</p>
+<p>"Who, pray, is Kilday?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been,
+he would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The
+judge thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright
+particular burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The
+next time he interferes he'll hear from me."</p>
+<p>"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class
+athlete, and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a
+peddler, you know&mdash;an Irish peddler; came <!-- Page 190 -->
+here three or four years ago with a pack on his back."</p>
+<p>"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated
+with horror.</p>
+<p>Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why
+shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer,
+when I told you he was drinking."</p>
+<p>"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you
+actually danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear,
+this must never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon.
+I will accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need
+never recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing
+you!"</p>
+<p>A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and
+spoke to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my
+habit," she called.</p>
+<p>"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed
+locks.</p>
+<p>Ruth paused at the door. There was a <!-- Page 191 -->
+slight tremor about her lips, but her eyes flashed their first open
+declaration of independence.</p>
+<p>"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the
+river."</p>
+<p>There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left,
+during which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed
+indignantly at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell.</p>
+<p>"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get
+her veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the
+boat-house at once."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 192 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<p>UNDER THE WILLOWS</p>
+<p>Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the
+bluest of summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern
+way. Tall blue lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in
+the reflections of the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of
+goldenrod, advance-guard of the autumn, stood apart, a silent
+warning to the summer idlers.</p>
+<p>Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed
+his love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature,
+no less impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that
+was bursting his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly
+with the pulsing of the stream.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 193 -->
+For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land
+of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden
+hills to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the
+real world of the King Arthur days&mdash;the world that was lighted
+by a strange and wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a
+knight, waiting and longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his
+lady fair.</p>
+<p>Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons
+and towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from
+which he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits&mdash;he would
+brave them all. Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands
+clasped about his knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of
+awkward silence that seemed to possess him.</p>
+<!-- Page 195 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i195" id=
+"i195"></a> <img src="images/195.gif" width="700" height="461" alt=
+"Illustration: Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain" /></div>
+<!-- Page 196 (blank facing page) -->
+<p>They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the
+sun, and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough.</p>
+<p>Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her
+hand in the cool <!-- Page 194 -->
+water and watching the little circles that followed her fingers.
+Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it through the
+leaves, was almost the color of her eyes.</p>
+<p>But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his
+intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he
+thought, they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of
+the stream; sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that
+sparkled in the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the
+shadows. They were deep as his love and bright as his hope.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question.</p>
+<p>"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he
+exclaimed contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of
+them. Do they keep changing color like that all the time?"</p>
+<p>Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously.</p>
+<p>"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly
+under here, isn't it? <!-- Page 197 -->
+So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I came."</p>
+<p>"You cross?"</p>
+<p>She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer,
+and totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her
+shortcomings on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical
+imitation of her aunt.</p>
+<p>"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy,
+with such ardor that she fled to another subject.</p>
+<p>"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She
+was very weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed
+happy."</p>
+<p>"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy.</p>
+<p>"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so.
+It was a copy of one of Turner's."</p>
+<p>"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born
+in London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 198 -->
+She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he
+laughed.</p>
+<p>"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the
+ones I liked best years ago."</p>
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+<p>"At the Olympian Exposition."</p>
+<p>"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from
+Europe. Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you
+somewhere before you came here."</p>
+<p>"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the
+water.</p>
+<p>A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them,
+and one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled
+there for a long rest.</p>
+<p>"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!"</p>
+<p>"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away,"
+said Sandy.</p>
+<p>They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and
+pretended to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had
+<!-- Page 199 -->
+not learned that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips
+refrained from echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less
+discreet.</p>
+<p>"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of
+one discovering a continent.</p>
+<p>"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's
+evidence.</p>
+<p>The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to
+lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than
+moonlight fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones
+behind them with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was
+crushed by the prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic
+perfume.</p>
+<p>Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his
+eyes in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring
+back the dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in
+the girlish cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain
+<!-- Page 200 -->
+breath as her heart tried not to catch beat with his own.</p>
+<p>"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton
+says you know all sorts of quaint old songs."</p>
+<p>"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing
+me in the old country."</p>
+<p>"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth.</p>
+<p>Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he
+began:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"Ah! The moment was sad when my love and
+I parted,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen deelish, signan
+O!<br /></span> <span>As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh
+broken-hearted!&mdash;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Savourneen
+deelish, signan O!"<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with
+puzzled eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the
+moon was shining. I remember the refrain perfectly."</p>
+<p>Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he <!-- Page 201 -->
+felt himself an impostor and a cheat. He had stumbled into the
+Enchanted Land, but he had no right to be there. He buried his head
+in his hands and felt the dream-world tottering about him.</p>
+<p>"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth.</p>
+<p>"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you
+remember the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe
+in?"</p>
+<p>"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing
+by the railing one night and heard some one singing it in the
+steerage. I was just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that
+'Savourneen deelish,' nor the way he sang it."</p>
+<p>"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily.</p>
+<p>"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was
+a boy&mdash;a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal
+his way in a life-boat."</p>
+<p>"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her.
+"He stole on <!-- Page 202 -->
+board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He sneaked
+his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When they
+found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little lady
+looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the
+years from then to now to thank her for it."</p>
+<p>Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a
+moment. Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on:</p>
+<p>"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and
+peddled, and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad
+to eat the scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a
+kind, good man&mdash;God prosper his soul!&mdash;saw fit to give me
+a home and an education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a
+gentleman!"</p>
+<p>For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her
+family threw <!-- Page 203 -->
+up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil.</p>
+<p>"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked.</p>
+<p>"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back.
+"Because I saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I
+came here for the chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure
+there was something good and beautiful in the world to offset all
+the bad I'd seen. Every page I've learned has been for you, every
+wrong thought I've put out of me mind has been to make more room
+for you. I don't even ask ye to be my friend; I only ask to be
+yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to you, and to keep ye first in
+my heart and to serve ye to the end."</p>
+<p>The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above
+them.</p>
+<p>Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had
+never seen a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and
+<!-- Page 204 -->
+troubled her. All the petty artifices which the world had taught
+her seemed useless before this shining candor.</p>
+<p>"And&mdash;and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked,
+with a little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared
+like that."</p>
+<p>"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your
+friend?"</p>
+<p>She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In
+an instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the
+summer rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away.</p>
+<p>"Oh! but I'll take it back&mdash;I never meant it," cried Sandy,
+wild with remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head,
+that was all. You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow
+seize me if I ever ask for more!"</p>
+<p>At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of
+song that they both looked up and smiled.</p>
+<p>"He doesn't think you mean it," said <!-- Page 205 -->
+Ruth; "but you must mean it, else I can't ever be your friend."</p>
+<p>Sandy shook his fist at the bird.</p>
+<p>"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of
+the tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the
+wind to the tree-tops. No&mdash;I don't mean that. As the stream to
+the shore. No-"</p>
+<p>He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make
+him break his word.</p>
+<p>Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering
+strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out
+into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the
+vireo still hopping about among the branches.</p>
+<p>"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be
+near the post-office."</p>
+<p>Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up
+to the moon if she would only stay there between him and the
+<!-- Page 206 -->
+sun, with her hair forming a halo about her face. But they were
+going down-stream, and all too soon he was stepping out of the
+canoe to earth again.</p>
+<p>"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he
+asked, with his hand on the boat.</p>
+<p>"To-morrow? Not until Sunday."</p>
+<p>"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?"</p>
+<p>"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.</p>
+<p>"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till
+ye come yourself, if I lose my position for it."</p>
+<p>Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up
+with mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your
+position," she said.</p>
+<p>"Then you'll come?"</p>
+<p>"Perhaps."</p>
+<p>Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the
+sun. He climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had
+<!-- Page 207 -->
+to use a maple branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention
+less material possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat
+with Ruth.</p>
+<p>"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going
+up-town? I'll give you a lift."</p>
+<p>Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The
+presence of other people in the world seemed an intrusion.</p>
+<p>"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor,
+wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.</p>
+<p>"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm.</p>
+<p>"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four
+o'clock."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 208 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER
+XVIII</h2>
+<p>THE VICTIM</p>
+<p>Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little
+shiver; to Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart,
+which lighted up a world of such unutterable bliss that he
+cheerfully added fresh fuel to the flames that were consuming him.
+The one absorbing necessity of his existence was to see Ruth daily,
+and the amount of strategy, forethought, and subtilty with which he
+accomplished it argued well for his future ability at the bar.</p>
+<p>In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she
+presented all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his
+folly. But with the dawn he threw discretion to <!-- Page 209 -->
+the winds, and rushed valiantly forward, leading a forlorn hope
+under cover of a little Platonic flag of truce.</p>
+<p>With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit
+himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she
+let fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart
+and profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be
+worthy of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his
+eyes to the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were
+vain.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The
+judge attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine
+grief and his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed
+an old suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him
+accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and
+diagnosed his case correctly.</p>
+<p>"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she
+said one evening <!-- Page 210 -->
+as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first fire of
+the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep a
+man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food."</p>
+<p>Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled.</p>
+<p>"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?"</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across
+the fireplace to start the blaze.</p>
+<p>"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool
+dis heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young
+folks in dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm
+gwine tell on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near
+die ef he knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent
+meetin's wif Carter Nelson 'most ever' day."</p>
+<p>"Is Sandy after Annette, too?"</p>
+<p>"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny"
+until they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at
+<!-- Page 211 -->high game. He's fix' his eyeball on de
+shore-'nough quality."</p>
+<p>"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her
+scissors sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she
+would look at him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only
+aristocratic people that ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid
+less attention to their ancestors and more to their descendants,
+they might have had a better showing."</p>
+<p>"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the
+doorway; "but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't."</p>
+<p>"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid
+down his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a
+girl as I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is
+always glad to see everybody when she comes back. Some of old
+Evan's geniality must have come down to her."</p>
+<p>"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy
+and soda. He was <!-- Page 212 -->just as snobbish as the rest of
+them when he was sober. If she has any good in her, it's from her
+mother's side of the house."</p>
+<p>"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge,
+thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his
+taste for what he could get. How long has it been going on,
+Sue?"</p>
+<p>"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the
+time. He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and
+sits up half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out
+all those silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn
+all over the house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all
+round the margin!"</p>
+<p>"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he
+read the title.</p>
+<p>"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where
+he has turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and
+nonsense!"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 213 -->The judge took the book from her hand and read
+with a reminiscent smile:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"When cold in the earth lies the friend
+thou hast loved,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Be his faults and
+his follies forgot by thee then;<br /></span> <span>Or if from
+their slumber the veil be removed,<br /></span> <span class=
+"i2">Weep o'er them in silence and close it again.<br /></span>
+<span>And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From the pathway of light he was tempted to
+roam,<br /></span> <span>Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the
+star<br /></span> <span class="i2">That arose on his darkness and
+guided him home."<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I
+think I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him
+the good news myself. You haven't spoken of it?"</p>
+<p>"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he
+spends his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the
+malaria, too, you mark my words."</p>
+<p>It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At
+the judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood
+<!-- Page 214 -->
+dazed by the sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and
+dejected, and he suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of
+youth.</p>
+<p>"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+<p>"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights."</p>
+<p>Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the
+light.</p>
+<p>"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the
+judge. "One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever
+since that affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes
+away with reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am
+holding his trial over until January, when the fact is I have been
+trying to get him released on your account. It is of no use,
+though; he will have to wait his turn."</p>
+<p>"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up.</p>
+<!-- Page 215 -->
+<p>"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling
+against me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him
+at the fall trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about
+getting him off. What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very
+ugly in my office yesterday, and made various threats about making
+me regret any interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one
+else; but Carter is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the
+time he was born. He came into the world with a mortal illness, and
+I doubt if he ever had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate,
+Sandy; he's bearing the sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors.
+We have to be patient with men like that; we have to look on them
+as we do on the insane."</p>
+<p>He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair
+in confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee.
+"However, that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a
+surprise for you. I <!-- Page 216 -->
+couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about
+your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and
+he is confident&mdash;"</p>
+<p>Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.</p>
+<p>"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately;
+"I've made up me mind to enlist."</p>
+<p>"Enlist! In the army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come
+back; and, judge&mdash;I want to go to-morrow!"</p>
+<p>"Is it money matters?"</p>
+<p>A long silence followed&mdash;of the kind that ripens
+confidence. Presently Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing
+I'm ashamed of, judge; ye must take me word for that. It's like
+taking the heart out of me body to go, but I've made up me mind.
+Nothing on earth can change me purpose; I enlist on the
+morrow."</p>
+<p>The judge looked at him long and earnestly <!-- Page 217 -->
+over his glasses, then he asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her
+answer final?"</p>
+<p>Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have
+discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of
+miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings
+mastered all other considerations.</p>
+<p>"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she
+let me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am,
+I break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see
+her. The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb."</p>
+<p>"And you think you would be better if you were out of her
+sight?"</p>
+<p>"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked
+Sandy, fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking.
+It's breaking her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the
+face, and I'll put it out of her sight."</p>
+<p>"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 218 -->
+Sandy assented with bowed head.</p>
+<p>The judge got up and stood before the fire.</p>
+<p>"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that
+you were not in her&mdash;that is, that she was not of
+your&mdash;"</p>
+<p>Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth.</p>
+<p>"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have
+stretched out my arms to her still!"</p>
+<p>Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought
+the judge to his side.</p>
+<p>"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously.</p>
+<p>"Four years!"</p>
+<p>"Before you came here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You followed her here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his
+vocabulary.</p>
+<p>Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it,
+breaking down <!-- Page 219 -->
+at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness and the sorrow
+his misery had caused her.</p>
+<p>When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was
+bestowing large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and
+shoulders.</p>
+<p>"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy.
+Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go
+under, sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always
+wanted&mdash;" he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment,
+then went on&mdash;"the one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed
+to me there was nothing else in the world would make up to me for
+that lack. I had money more than enough, and health and friends;
+but I wanted a boy. When you came I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a
+while just to see how it would feel.' It's been worth while, Sandy;
+you have done me credit. It almost seemed as if the Lord didn't
+mean me to be disappointed, after all. And to-day, when Mr. Moseley
+said you ought to have a year <!-- Page 220 -->
+or two at the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my
+own. I'll send him this year and next, and then he can come home
+and be a comfort to me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was
+sitting up to tell you, Sandy; but now&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere
+you say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to
+stay here?"</p>
+<p>"Not now, Sandy; not for a while."</p>
+<p>"Never!&mdash;so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow
+between her and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord
+gives me strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I
+live!"</p>
+<p>"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you
+off to the university next week."</p>
+<p>"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust
+meself over the week."</p>
+<p>"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both
+go to bed."</p>
+<p><!-- Page 221 -->
+Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in
+his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the
+valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His
+muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in
+the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse
+of home to a sailor who expected never to return.</p>
+<p>Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a
+worn old copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness
+of other days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a
+half-quizzical, half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover
+once, and Sandy's romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that
+sent up a faint perfume of memory.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"Be it bliss to remember that thou wert
+the star<br /></span> <span class="i3">That arose on his darkness
+and guided him home."<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 222 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+<p>THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER</p>
+<p>By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be
+old and mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He
+had even yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter
+from Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to
+delay the letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages
+under the stamp when she wrote to other people.</p>
+<p>During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy
+handed his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once
+a week, following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal
+crumbs of interest the judge might let fall while perusing
+<!-- Page 223 -->
+ them. The supremacy which Sandy had established in the base-ball
+days had lent him a permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys
+of Clayton. "Letter from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce,
+adding somewhat anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?"</p>
+<p>The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently
+gratified Jimmy's curiosity.</p>
+<p>"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through
+with athletics."</p>
+<p>"Does he like it up there?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would
+answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard."</p>
+<p>"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy,
+thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly
+killed him."</p>
+<p>"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he
+sighed.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 224 -->Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute
+curiosity the second winter&mdash;about the time the Nelsons
+returned to Clayton after a long absence.</p>
+<p>On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's
+handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson.
+The next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss
+Nelson. After that it became a regular occurrence.</p>
+<p>Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one
+person as a danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to
+fever-heat. He even went so far as to weigh the letters, and
+roughly to calculate the number of pages in each. Once or twice he
+felt something hard inside, and upon submitting the envelop to his
+nose, he distinguished the faint fragrance of pressed flowers. It
+was perhaps a blessing in disguise that the duty of sorting the
+outgoing mail did not fall to his lot. One added bit of information
+would have resulted in spontaneous combustion.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 225 -->
+By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they
+culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter
+which bristled under the importance of its extra stamp.</p>
+<p>The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the
+Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss
+Nelson, but I thought they started for California this
+morning."</p>
+<p>"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the
+message out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both
+go out by the same boy."</p>
+<p>When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow
+slip, which was innocent of envelop.</p>
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain.</p>
+<p>S.K.</p>
+</div>
+<p>For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message
+in the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not
+want her to read it? Why didn't <!-- Page 226 -->
+he want her to read it? Questions buzzed about him like bees.</p>
+<p>Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature.
+Jimmy's stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this
+explosive material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat
+deprived of action.</p>
+<p>After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door.
+When he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he
+propped up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a
+manner acquired at school, and hiding behind this improvised
+screen, he carefully took from his pocket a small bottle of
+gasolene. Pouring a little on his handkerchief, he applied it to
+the envelop of the special-delivery letter.</p>
+<p>As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent
+applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the
+following:</p>
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&mdash;like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it<br />
+will not be still. Heart, body, and soul will call<br />
+to you, Ruth, so long as the breath is in my body.<br />
+<!-- Page 227 -->
+I have not the courage to be your friend. I swear,<br />
+with all the strength I have left, never to see you<br />
+nor write you again. God bless you, my&mdash;</p>
+</div>
+<p>A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was
+Annette Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited.</p>
+<p>"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were
+caught eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say,
+Jimmy; don't you want to do something for me?"</p>
+<p>Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept
+everything that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen.</p>
+<p>"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about
+uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until
+after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't
+get it before nine o'clock?"</p>
+<p>Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette.</p>
+<p>"Why, it's from you!"</p>
+<p>"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried <!-- Page 228 -->
+sharply; then she changed her tactics and looked up appealingly
+through the little square window.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a
+scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?"</p>
+<p>Jimmy surrendered on the spot.</p>
+<p>"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the
+d-down train starts, and if it's on time."</p>
+<p>"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting
+the telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow.
+Expecting somebody?"</p>
+<p>She shook her head.</p>
+<p>"Going to the city yourself?"</p>
+<p>"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with
+unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she
+added: "G-guess who has come home?"</p>
+<p>"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears.</p>
+<p>"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody <!-- Page 229 -->
+look so g-grand. He's gotten to be a regular swell, and he walks
+like this."</p>
+<p>Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders,
+and swung bravely across the room.</p>
+<p>"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his
+pocket. "Where's he at?"</p>
+<p>"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour
+coming two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on
+down to the b-blacksmith's twins."</p>
+<p>"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious.</p>
+<p>Annette stepped to the window.</p>
+<p>"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash
+and, snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she
+sailed out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from
+below, which whirled past her and shattered itself against the
+wall.</p>
+<p>"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of
+loose snow from the <!-- Page 230 -->
+window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then the door burst
+open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the threshold.</p>
+<p>"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old
+work, I see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when
+I first sold stamps?"</p>
+<p>Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The
+interesting tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind,
+and he resorted instinctively to nature's first law. With an
+agitated countenance, he sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's
+letter behind him in a frantic effort to banish, if possible, the
+odor of his guilt.</p>
+<p>Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the
+window and asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite
+Jimmy she scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his
+brain. With crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the
+letter, forgetting that telegrams existed.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 231 -->
+He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy;
+he saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then,
+to his everlasting credit, he saw no more.</p>
+<p>When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was
+empty. He made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a
+back window, he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it
+savagely against the brick wall opposite.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 232 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><b>CHAPTER XX</b></h2>
+<p>THE IRONY OF CHANCE</p>
+<p>The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the
+morning, developed into a storm by afternoon.</p>
+<p>Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a
+dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat
+was pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets.
+Now and again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch.</p>
+<p>It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train
+with the fixed intention of committing suicide.</p>
+<p>The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had
+resulted disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had
+<!-- Page 233 -->
+read his letter, his common sense took flight. Instead of a
+supplicant, he became an invader, and stormed the citadel with such
+hot-headed passion and fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the
+innermost chamber of her maidenhood, and there, barred and
+barricaded, withstood the siege.</p>
+<p>His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had
+read his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his
+eyes on this gray, impossible world.</p>
+<p>He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was
+strange and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy
+skeletons that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of
+ragweed were covered with a pall; and the river&mdash;his dancing,
+singing river&mdash;was a black and sullen stream that closed
+remorselessly over the dying snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his
+river,&mdash;they knew him not; he stared at them blankly and they
+stared back at him.</p>
+<p>A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes
+and went bounding <!-- Page 234 -->
+down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round little
+cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary diversion;
+but he did not want to be diverted.</p>
+<p>With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced
+himself to face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he
+was only twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction
+was it to have won first honors at the university? There was but
+one thing in the world that made life worth living, and that was
+denied him. Perhaps after he was gone she would love him.</p>
+<p>This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to
+himself her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in
+spirit his own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still
+face. Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train.</p>
+<p>Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road
+below the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices.
+Slipping behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass.
+The horse was evidently <!-- Page 235 -->
+walking, and the voices came to him distinctly.</p>
+<p>"I'm not a coward&mdash;any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have
+c-come, in the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round,
+C-Carter,&mdash;please!"</p>
+<p>There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its
+faltering speech.</p>
+<p>Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had
+Annette out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter
+Nelson?</p>
+<p>He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving
+buggy.</p>
+<p>"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought,
+trying to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there?
+He goes to California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie
+to-day? And she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her
+say it with her own lips?"</p>
+<p>He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up,
+now crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly
+<!-- Page 236 -->
+alert; his eyes never left the buggy for a moment.</p>
+<p>When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically
+to one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and
+begrudging the time he lost while the train went by. It was not
+until an hour later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit
+suicide.</p>
+<p>Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced
+now that they meant to take the down train which would pass the
+Clayton train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be
+done to save Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy
+of the irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He
+waited until he was slightly in advance before he descended
+abruptly upon them.</p>
+<p>Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter
+was evidently trying to reassure her.</p>
+<p>As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and
+Carter reached for <!-- Page 237 -->
+the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy had swung
+himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning back
+against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was
+making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her
+eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp
+little string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy;
+he struck straight out from the shoulder.</p>
+<p>"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to,
+Nettie. I'm here."</p>
+<p>Carter stopped his horse.</p>
+<p>"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily.</p>
+<p>"After you," said Sandy.</p>
+<p>Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy
+promptly followed.</p>
+<p>"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to
+explain what you mean."</p>
+<p>Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy <!-- Page 238 -->
+and his eyes on Annette; when he spoke it was to her.</p>
+<p>"If it's your wish to go on, say the word."</p>
+<p>The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and
+miserable, but declined to make any remarks.</p>
+<p>"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said
+Carter, striving for dignity, though his breath came short with
+excitement. "We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference
+is not only impudent&mdash;it's useless. I know perfectly well who
+sent you: it was Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we
+left town. Just return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I
+say he is a meddler and a fool!"</p>
+<p>"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll
+be wanting his coffee by now."</p>
+<p>"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot
+off that step or I'll&mdash;" He made a quick motion toward
+<!-- Page 239 -->
+his hip, and Sandy caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled
+revolver.</p>
+<p>"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it
+good-by, Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that
+you've left him now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand
+for old times' sake."</p>
+<p>Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and
+feeling the solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a
+drowning man clings to a spar.</p>
+<p>"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad
+this way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!"</p>
+<p>Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling
+from head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like
+whip-cord. He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself.
+At Annette's words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.</p>
+<p>"You are at perfect liberty to go with <!-- Page 240 -->
+Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that he will meet me as soon as we get
+back to town."</p>
+<p>"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance
+at her bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did.
+Oh, why d-did I come?"</p>
+<p>"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your
+disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you
+back."</p>
+<p>"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come,
+too. I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at
+home, and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents."</p>
+<p>She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and
+scowled.</p>
+<p>"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him.
+You have just three minutes to make up your mind."</p>
+<!-- Page 241 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 474px;"><a name="i241" id=
+"i241"></a> <img src="images/241.gif" width="474" height="700" alt=
+"Illustration: Sandy saw her waver" /></div>
+<!-- Page 242 (blank facing page) -->
+<p>Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the
+second at Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick
+<!-- Page 243 -->
+bound, he was in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.</p>
+<p>"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette,
+hysterically. "Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."</p>
+<p>"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently
+across the horse's back.</p>
+<p>Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town,
+while the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the
+would-be suicide.</p>
+<p>The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to
+dusk. For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with
+their own thoughts.</p>
+<p>Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied
+at something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a
+figure on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.</p>
+<p>"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's
+face?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me,
+Sandy!"</p>
+<!-- Page 244 -->
+<p>"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"</p>
+<p>"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out.
+Do you suppose he was hiding?"</p>
+<p>"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy,
+standing up in the buggy and straining his eyes in the
+darkness.</p>
+<p>"Why, he's in jail!"</p>
+<p>"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that
+wasn't Ricks!"</p>
+<p>When they started they found that the harness was broken, and
+all efforts to fix it were in vain.</p>
+<p>"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home
+b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."</p>
+<p>"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's
+too far for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy
+until I go for help?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.</p>
+<p>Sandy looked at the round baby face beside <!-- Page 245 -->
+him and laughed. "It's not one of meself that blames you," he said;
+"but how are we ever to get home?"</p>
+<p>Annette was not without resources.</p>
+<p>"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the
+farm?"</p>
+<p>"And you?" asked Sandy.</p>
+<p>"I'll ride behind."</p>
+<p>They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly
+resented a double burden.</p>
+<p>When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for
+freedom, and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they
+were soon at their destination.</p>
+<p>"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled
+companion to the ground.</p>
+<p>"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks.
+"I lost every hair-pin but one."</p>
+<p>At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.</p>
+<p>"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the <!-- Page 246 -->
+farmer. "Mommer'll take care of you while I go out to the stable
+for some rope and another hoss."</p>
+<p>The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort.
+Bright red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world
+outside, and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.</p>
+<p>Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly
+warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper,
+but he had grown silent and preoccupied.</p>
+<p>The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary
+narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched
+consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could
+have forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not
+want to think of anything else.</p>
+<p>"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<!-- Page 247 -->
+<p>"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."</p>
+<p>"Neither did I."</p>
+<p>Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on
+the track, Sandy?"</p>
+<p>The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.</p>
+<p>"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you
+go out in the cold ag'in."</p>
+<p>Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not
+hungry. He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared
+out into the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this?
+Was that restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his
+heart forever?</p>
+<p>Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his
+shoulder and bits of the conversation broke in upon him.</p>
+<p>"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long
+sweetening or short?"</p>
+<p>"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted <!-- Page 248 -->
+anything so g-good. Sandy, what's the matter with you? I never saw
+you when you weren't hungry b-before. Look! Won't you try this
+s-sizzly one?"</p>
+<p>Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite.</p>
+<p>The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip
+after trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to
+admire her guests.</p>
+<p>"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for
+another one?"</p>
+<p>"Lemme give you <i>both</i> a clean plate and some pie,"
+suggested the eager housewife.</p>
+<p>Sandy looked at her and smiled.</p>
+<p>"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and&mdash;and more
+hoe-cakes."</p>
+<p>When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy,
+Annette developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about
+while the men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by
+her fire of questions.</p>
+<p>After they started, Sandy leaned back in <!-- Page 249 -->
+the buggy, lost in the fog of his unhappiness. Off in the distance
+he could see the twinkling lights of Clayton. One was apart from
+the rest; that was Willowvale.</p>
+<p>A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He
+patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder.</p>
+<p>"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning."</p>
+<p>"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything
+ab-b-bout being in love."</p>
+<p>Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish
+heart knew of the depths through which he was passing.</p>
+<p>"Do you love him very much?" he asked.</p>
+<p>She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged
+to."</p>
+<p>"He's not worth it."</p>
+<p>"He is!"</p>
+<p>A strained silence, then he said:</p>
+<p>"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's
+truth?"</p>
+<p>"Don't you suppose dad's kept me <!-- Page 250 -->
+p-posted about his faults? Why, he would walk a mile to find out
+something b-bad about Carter Nelson."</p>
+<p>"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all
+his fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's
+the wise man to try to keep you from being his wife."</p>
+<p>"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to
+d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were
+so mean."</p>
+<p>"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in
+the morning?"</p>
+<p>"Indeed, I won't!"</p>
+<p>Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do."</p>
+<p>She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she
+declared she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched
+her start angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing
+back.</p>
+<p>"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me
+home."</p>
+<!-- Page 251 -->
+<p>"And you promise?"</p>
+<p>She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the
+very m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out,
+and I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever
+s-speak to you as long as I live."</p>
+<p>At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full
+of people and great excitement prevailed.</p>
+<p>"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long
+silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?"</p>
+<p>Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement
+would not cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of
+the buggy and called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed!
+What's the matter?"</p>
+<p>Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge
+question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers.</p>
+<p>"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge
+Hollis. It was at <!-- Page 252 -->
+half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They say
+the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go
+after Wilson."</p>
+<p>At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge
+shot! Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I
+must go to the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back
+in less. Don't you be letting them start without me, Jimmy."</p>
+<p>Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the
+crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike.</p>
+<p>Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering
+anxiously out into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly
+against the light of the room behind her, but Sandy did not see
+her.</p>
+<p>His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts
+tore at his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the
+other was to capture Ricks Wilson.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 253 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a> <b>CHAPTER
+XXI</b></h2>
+<p>IN THE DARK</p>
+<p>An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the
+avenue. The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a
+half-mysterious light to the quiet scene.</p>
+<p>He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly
+lighted hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their
+faces grave with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them,
+Sandy hurried to the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn
+the knob, Dr. Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on
+his lips, came out, cautiously closing the door behind him.</p>
+<p>"You can't go in," he whispered; "the <!-- Page 254 -->
+slightest excitement might finish him. He's got one chance in a
+hundred, boy; we've got to nurse it."</p>
+<p>"Does he know?"</p>
+<p>"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming
+into the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window."</p>
+<p>"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw
+him hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction."</p>
+<p>The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said
+significantly:</p>
+<p>"Have they started?"</p>
+<p>"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going
+with them."</p>
+<p>"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a
+minute, Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to
+see my Nettie since noon?"</p>
+<p>"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness
+broke. She's home now."</p>
+<!-- Page 255 -->
+<p>"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson."</p>
+<p>Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the
+steps when he heard his name spoken.</p>
+<p>"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been
+habin' de terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down
+wifout bein' notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I
+knowed somepin' was gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore
+daybreak; dey ain't no luck worser den to dream 'bout a tooth
+fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I hope he ain't gwine die!"</p>
+<p>"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?"</p>
+<p>"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de
+doctor. She won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets
+off her feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head
+and swayed and sobbed.</p>
+<p>As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking
+furtively around <!-- Page 256 -->
+she fumbled in her pocket for something which she thrust into his
+hand.</p>
+<p>"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to
+nobody else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done
+drap it 'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it,
+honey? You won't tell nobody?"</p>
+<p>He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp,
+he hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in
+hot haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he
+had laid on the table.</p>
+<p>It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He
+looked at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen
+it before that afternoon.</p>
+<p>"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But
+Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?"</p>
+<p>He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his
+temples, tried to force the events to take their proper
+sequence.</p>
+<!-- Page 257 -->
+<p>"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it
+must have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took
+the train back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I
+saw Ricks out the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now.
+The doctor said the judge was shot at a quarter of six."</p>
+<p>A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He
+sprang to his feet and tramped up and down the small room.</p>
+<p>"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with
+excitement. "Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't
+have even driven back in that time."</p>
+<p>He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he
+took the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side
+door.</p>
+<p>The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond
+it. The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers
+keeping well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to
+obliterate <!-- Page 258 -->
+them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single
+trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe.
+Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He
+jumped to his feet and started for the house, then turned back
+irresolute.</p>
+<p>When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had
+been effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly
+about him. On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's
+writing, and opened it mechanically.</p>
+<p>There were only three lines:</p>
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come
+to-night.</p>
+</div>
+<p>The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother
+that had shot the judge&mdash;the brother whom she had defended and
+protected all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he,
+Sandy Kilday, was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary
+temptation seized him to <!-- Page 259 -->
+hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time enough to
+tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name might
+not matter.</p>
+<p>But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak.
+Would he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such
+burning rage against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in
+fury.</p>
+<p>Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a
+heaven of promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for
+him now. Everything might be different when he saw her again.</p>
+<p>All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his
+way, and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted
+and formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a
+kaleidoscope.</p>
+<p>Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over
+the mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying
+figure on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an
+instant all the <!-- Page 260 -->
+floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it.</p>
+<p>The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down
+without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one
+thing to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the
+consequences.</p>
+<p>Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he
+hurried down-stairs.</p>
+<p>On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her
+hands were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her
+body.</p>
+<p>In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He
+isn't dead?" he whispered fearfully.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken
+since we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?"</p>
+<p>"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively.</p>
+<p>She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with
+vindictiveness.</p>
+<p>"Don't let them stop till they've caught <!-- Page 261 -->
+him, Sandy. I hope they will hang him to-night!"</p>
+<p>A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried
+out to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate.</p>
+<p>He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees,
+started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had
+labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play
+tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he
+heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At
+infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness.</p>
+<p>He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The
+groan came again, and he followed the sound.</p>
+<p>At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward.
+He held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man,
+and, as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the
+snow beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried
+to sit up. As he did so, the light <!-- Page 262 -->
+from Sandy's lantern fell full on the dazed and swollen face of
+Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for a space, then Sandy
+asked him sharply what he did there.</p>
+<p>"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the
+tree. "I'm sick. Get me some whisky."</p>
+<p>"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is
+Kilday&mdash;Sandy Kilday."</p>
+<p>Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled
+contemptuously. "<i>Mr.</i> Kilday," he said, and smiled
+scornfully. "The least said about <i>Mr.</i> Kilday the
+better."</p>
+<p>Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.</p>
+<p>"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with
+Annette Fenton?"</p>
+<p>"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"Do you remember coming home on the train?"</p>
+<p>Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was
+evidently trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the
+train? Yes; I came home on train."</p>
+<!-- Page 263 -->
+<p>"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking
+intently in his eyes.</p>
+<p>"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"And then?" repeated Sandy.</p>
+<p>Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered.</p>
+<p>"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?"</p>
+<p>"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your
+eyes. You left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis
+farm, didn't you?"</p>
+<p>"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go
+there."</p>
+<p>"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the
+snow on the ground and the light inside the window?"</p>
+<p>Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive
+face was vacant and perplexed.</p>
+<p>Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on
+with subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his
+<!-- Page 264 -->
+heart that Carter was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a
+pistol was fired&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to
+my head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again.
+Where was it&mdash;Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?"</p>
+<p>For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did
+you have that this afternoon?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where
+did you get it, Kilday?"</p>
+<p>"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been
+shot."</p>
+<p>"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?"</p>
+<p>Sandy again looked at the pistol.</p>
+<p>"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I&mdash;" He
+cowered back against the tree and shook from head to foot.
+"Kilday!" he cried presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his
+long, delicate hands, "does any one else know?"</p>
+<p><!-- Page 265 -->
+Sandy shook his head.</p>
+<p>"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I
+was doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"He's not dead yet."</p>
+<p>Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing
+seized him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he
+held to his mouth was red with blood.</p>
+<p>Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while
+with closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched
+convulsively.</p>
+<p>A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must
+take some decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in
+the square for him now. He must stop them at any cost.</p>
+<p>Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them.</p>
+<p>"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay
+you anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was
+doing. For the Lord's sake, don't <!-- Page 266 -->
+give me up! I haven't long to live at best. I can't disgrace the
+family. I&mdash;I am the last of the line&mdash;last Nelson&mdash;"
+His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were glassy and
+fixed.</p>
+<p>Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought
+it out with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal
+considerations were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to
+do right. But what was right? He groped blindly about in the
+darkness of his soul, and no guiding light showed him the way.</p>
+<p>With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the
+first real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and
+formless, just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of
+need.</p>
+<p>The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the
+frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind.</p>
+<p>"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of
+his fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on
+<!-- Page 267 -->
+the insane." They were the judge's own words.</p>
+<p>Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting
+Carter, persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he
+would not give him up.</p>
+<p>At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then
+turned and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square
+he found only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps,
+discussing the events of the day.</p>
+<p>"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to
+start from here?"</p>
+<p>An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned.</p>
+<p>"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's
+got dat low-down rascal hanged by now."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 268 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+<p>AT WILLOWVALE</p>
+<p>There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat
+at the big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when
+the time came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.</p>
+<p>Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be
+able to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red
+from recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was
+coming back. That fact seemed to make everything right.</p>
+<p>She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating
+of her heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed,
+<!-- Page 269 -->
+impulsive as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced
+impatiently at the clock.</p>
+<p>"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke
+in upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table,
+her round, good-humored face comically serious.</p>
+<p>"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.</p>
+<p>"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love,
+you'd know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"</p>
+<p>Ruth smiled and nodded.</p>
+<p>"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great
+embarrassment; "but dat nigger knows I can't read."</p>
+<p>"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.</p>
+<p>"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."</p>
+<p>Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you,"
+she said.</p>
+<p>Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It
+was divided into many tight braids, each of which was
+<!-- Page 270 -->
+wrapped with a bit of shoe-string. From under the last one she took
+a small envelope and handed it to Ruth.</p>
+<p>"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't
+trust it no place 'cept in my head."</p>
+<p>Ruth unfolded the note and read:</p>
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore
+dollars to git a devorce.</p>
+<p>"<i>George</i>."</p>
+</div>
+<p>Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and
+anxiety deepening on her face.</p>
+<p>"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.</p>
+<p>"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."</p>
+<p>"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has
+one wife."</p>
+<p>"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one
+arm, neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?"</p>
+<p>"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of
+him."</p>
+<!-- Page 271-->
+<p>"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but
+she held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its
+crumpled edges.</p>
+<p>Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide
+hall to the library.</p>
+<p>It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which
+simpered or frowned a long row of her ancestors.</p>
+<p>She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and
+earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her
+father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the
+full bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of
+him, and when she did her eyes filled with tears.</p>
+<p>A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather,
+brave in a high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a
+bibulous past radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating
+nose.</p>
+<p>Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty.
+Ruth recalled a <!-- Page 272 -->
+tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for climbing upon
+the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips.</p>
+<p>She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and
+uniforms, and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched
+nose, brilliant dark eyes, and small, weak mouth.</p>
+<p>On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she
+passed it. It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and
+weakness of the surrounding portraits.</p>
+<p>She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two
+pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a
+small old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face,
+singularly pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it
+with reverent fingers.</p>
+<p>"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself.</p>
+<p>Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap
+photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's
+<!-- Page 273 -->
+chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at
+sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his
+head was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood
+like a half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap
+store-clothes, and a turn-down collar which rested upon a
+ready-made tie of enormous proportions. It was a picture he had had
+taken in his first new clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth
+had found it in an old book of Annette's.</p>
+<p>How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the
+elegant figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire
+to get the light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of
+tenderness.</p>
+<p>The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an
+unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the
+fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there.
+The eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and
+the honest smile that hovered on his lips <!-- Page 274 -->
+seemed to be in frank amusement at his own sorry self.</p>
+<p>Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the
+picture to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with
+hesitating shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it
+there.</p>
+<p>A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a
+little start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden
+desire to run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors
+thrilling her and her heart beating high. She was sure she heard
+wheels. She went to the window, and, shading her eyes, looked out.
+A buggy was standing at the gate, but no one got out.</p>
+<p>A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail
+and opened the front door.</p>
+<p>"Carter," she called softly out into the night&mdash;"Carter, is
+it you?"</p>
+<p>There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed
+the door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass,
+<!-- Page 275 -->
+and she pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and
+peered anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her
+emphasized the darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim
+outline of the buggy.</p>
+<p>Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she
+resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed
+down the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and
+the pavement was cold to her slippered feet.</p>
+<p>"Carter," she called again and again&mdash;"Carter, is it
+you?"</p>
+<p>At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in
+the buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her.
+She looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would
+hear if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter
+as she had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely
+opened the gate and went forward.</p>
+<p>At her first touch Carter started up <!-- Page 276 -->
+wildly and pushed her from him. "You said you wouldn't give me up;
+you promised," he said.</p>
+<p>"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid!
+Nobody shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder&mdash;there! Step
+down a little farther!"</p>
+<p>With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the
+keen wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the
+lace falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the
+elbow.</p>
+<p>Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll
+have to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We
+are going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I
+am getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?"</p>
+<p>Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to
+bed. The blood on his handkerchief told its own story.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 277 -->
+She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire,
+and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep
+sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy,
+silent sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness
+of her only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and
+blame, shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought
+valiantly against his weakness, but her meager strength had been
+pitted against the accumulated intemperance of generations.</p>
+<p>She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she
+tenderly smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then
+she caught up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick,
+motherly gesture.</p>
+<p>"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any
+more."</p>
+<p>At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the
+dainty gown she had put on for Sandy's coming.</p>
+<p>For long hours she lay in her great canopied <!-- Page 278 -->
+bed with wide-open eyes. The night was a noisy one, for there was a
+continual passing on the road, and occasional shouts came faintly
+to her.</p>
+<p>With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's
+room. She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and
+listen for the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every
+sound on the road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She
+could scarcely remember the time when she had not waited for Carter
+at night.</p>
+<p>Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her
+uncles, and he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys.
+After that she had kept things to herself.</p>
+<p>There was but one other person in the world to whom she had
+spoken, and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to
+her there was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing?
+Sandy's face, as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless,
+hopeless, rose before her. <!-- Page 279 -->
+But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender, she
+could make him understand if she could only see him.</p>
+<p>Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into
+numerous forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her?
+Had her seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he
+not sent her a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on
+the early train, that there would be no chance to speak with her
+alone in the morning.</p>
+<p>A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She
+watched it deepen to rose.</p>
+<p>By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the
+bed and peeped through the curtains.</p>
+<p>"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town
+last night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?"</p>
+<p>"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in
+bed.</p>
+<p>"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge <!-- Page 280 -->
+Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town went out to ketch him. Dey been
+gone all night."</p>
+<p>"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she
+thought of the judge.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?"</p>
+<p>"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is
+a-comin' up from de city to prode fer de bullet."</p>
+<p>"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the
+dear old judge is so good and kind to everybody?"</p>
+<p>"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously,
+as she coaxed the kindling into a blaze.</p>
+<p>Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt
+was the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his
+benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what
+prompt action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to
+follow honor every time.</p>
+<p>"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" <!-- Page 281 -->
+cried Rachel from the window. "I's gwine down to de road an' ax 'em
+if dey ketched him."</p>
+<p>"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my
+traveling-coat&mdash;there on the trunk. What can I put on my head?
+My hat is in auntie's room."</p>
+<p>Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white
+tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any
+noise, but come."</p>
+<p>They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning.
+It was still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them
+suspiciously as they hurried down to the road. Every branch and
+twig was covered with ice, and the snow crackled under their
+feet.</p>
+<p>"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss
+Rufe," said Rachel.</p>
+<p>"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the
+world except right here."</p>
+<!-- Page 282 -->
+<p>"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses."</p>
+<p>Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped
+in her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the
+half-light.</p>
+<p>On came the riders, three abreast.</p>
+<p>"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to
+de sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up&mdash;I shorely
+is. He's hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed."</p>
+<p>Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and
+as she did so he lifted his head.</p>
+<p>It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered,
+and his lips compressed info a straight, determined line.</p>
+<p>Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to
+him. She did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he
+was in trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest.
+In the one moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of
+compassion and sympathy. It was <!-- Page 283 -->
+the same message a little girl had sent years ago over a ship's
+railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below.</p>
+<p>The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking
+after them.</p>
+<p>"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider
+drew rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted.</p>
+<p>"Tell me what's happened!" she cried.</p>
+<p>He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs
+of a hard night.</p>
+<p>"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked.</p>
+<p>She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee.</p>
+<p>"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly.</p>
+<p>"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to
+the blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong
+trail till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a
+clue, and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far
+as Ellersberg."</p>
+<!-- Page 284 -->
+<p>"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering.</p>
+<p>"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say
+anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks
+wouldn't be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old
+barn. We surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday
+came tearing up on horseback."</p>
+<p>"Yes?" cried Ruth.</p>
+<p>"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been
+riding like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped
+under him before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd
+and began to talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks
+Wilson; that Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had
+seen him out the Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it
+was a put-up job; he was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."</p>
+<p>"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.</p>
+<!-- Page 285 -->
+<p>"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in
+on Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like
+the mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."</p>
+<p>"And&mdash;and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands
+clasped and her lips apart.</p>
+<p>"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that
+good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his
+father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my
+life!"</p>
+<p>"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.</p>
+<p>"To jail for resisting an officer."</p>
+<p>"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked
+Rachel from the hall.</p>
+<p>Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady
+herself.</p>
+<p>"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And,
+Rachel, tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must
+not be disturbed until it is time to start."</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 286 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER
+XXIII</h2>
+<p>"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"</p>
+<p>Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house,
+lay the little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce
+mask of bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget
+the number of prisoners that had escaped its walls.</p>
+<p>In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks
+Wilson had sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.</p>
+<p>The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts
+of escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or
+lay on the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the
+grimy ceiling. The one question which he continually
+<!-- Page 287 -->
+put to the jailer was concerning the latest news of Judge
+Hollis.</p>
+<p>Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of
+resisting an officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing
+to tell what he knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to
+answer to the grand jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of
+day only through the deep, narrow opening of one small window.</p>
+<p>At first he had had visitors&mdash;indignant, excited visitors
+who came in hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton
+had charged in upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In
+stentorian tones he rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending
+him, he pointed out his generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's
+heinous ingratitude. Mr. Moseley had arrived with arguments and
+reasons and platitudes, all expressed in a polysyllabic monotone.
+Mr. Meech had come many times with prayers and petitions and gentle
+rebuke.</p>
+<p>To them all Sandy gave patient, silent <!-- Page 288 -->
+audience, wincing under the blame, but making no effort to defend
+himself. All he would say was that Ricks Wilson had not done the
+shooting, and that he could say no more.</p>
+<p>A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who
+was not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life
+held that all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound
+to act bad sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's
+moral welfare and devoted herself to his physical comfort.</p>
+<p>With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar,
+and lard from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her
+little cabin at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls,
+and pies for her "po' white chile."</p>
+<p>Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she
+brought, and one day asked her where she made them.</p>
+<p>"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook
+nuffin' fer you <!-- Page 289 -->
+on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is. She
+'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she
+lives."</p>
+<p>"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy.</p>
+<p>"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went
+back to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it
+might throw him into a political stroke."</p>
+<p>Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's
+stood by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot."</p>
+<p>"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter
+hear de way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in
+town 'ceptin' me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced
+a card covered with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little
+collection fer de church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin
+th'u' one ob dem dots to sorter certify it."</p>
+<!-- Page 290 -->
+<p>"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some
+small change.</p>
+<p>Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she
+acknowledged reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before
+long. I's done j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."</p>
+<p>"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.</p>
+<p>"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple
+calicoes and sets up wid de sick."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen Miss Annette?"</p>
+<p>"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge
+was shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she
+gwine run off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De
+doctor headed 'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you
+think he done? He put dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say
+she cut up scan'lous at fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin
+to count her necklace, an' make signs on de waist ob her dress, an'
+say she lak it so much she gwine be a Cafolic <!-- Page 291 -->
+nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes tearin' his shirt to
+git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she says."</p>
+<p>Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her
+head knowingly.</p>
+<p>"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to
+die, an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on
+Mr. Sid Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep
+dat gal from shinin' her eyes at de boys!"</p>
+<p>"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.</p>
+<p>"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak
+tuberoses. Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to
+Californy. Dey stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec'
+which. He took de fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed
+nothin' since."</p>
+<p>After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned
+against the bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the
+men going home from work, the girls chattering <!-- Page 292 -->
+and laughing through the dusk on their way from the post-office.
+Every figure that passed, black or white, was familiar to him.
+Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed down the street, and a
+whistle sprang to his lips.</p>
+<p>How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years
+he had been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel
+of the life of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as
+much a stranger to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago
+at the window of a great tenement and had been afraid to be
+alone.</p>
+<p>"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be
+wanting me here after this."</p>
+<p>It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice
+of a negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly:</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza"><span>"We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de
+coon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de medder, de hill, an' de
+shoah.<br /></span> <span>We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de
+moon,<br /></span> <span class="i2">On de bench by de old cabin
+doah.<br /></span></div>
+<div class="stanza"><!-- Page 293 -->
+<span>"De days go by like de shadow on do heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright;<br /></span>
+<span>De time am come when do darkies hab to
+part&mdash;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Den, my ole Kaintucky
+home, good night."<br /></span></div>
+</div>
+<p>Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon
+it. Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It
+was of Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the
+half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her
+great eyes full of wondering compassion.</p>
+<p>But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's
+life still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in
+a distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by
+his sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and
+Ruth.</p>
+<p>With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and
+burst into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his
+race swept him along like a <!-- Page 294 -->
+feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy, was elemental.</p>
+<p>When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the
+cold iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to
+Ruth. He thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her
+intense love and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to
+bless her, and the thought of what she had been spared brought him
+peace.</p>
+<p>Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all
+thoughts of the future and of self.</p>
+<p>These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul,
+hallowed and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him,
+blending the blackness of despair with the white light of perfect
+love. Here his thoughts would often turn even in the stress and
+strain of the daily life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and
+steps within the dim cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on
+his way.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 295 -->
+The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books,
+and from that on there was no more idling or dreaming.</p>
+<p>Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the
+judge had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening
+readings in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of
+forty years' experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to
+the letter.</p>
+<p>For the first time in his life he learned the power of
+concentration. Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or
+interruption, brought splendid results. He knew the outline of the
+course at the university, and he forged ahead with feverish
+energy.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving.</p>
+<p>One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard
+the key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up.
+Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting
+his eyes, he saw <!-- Page 296 -->
+Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be but the
+substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his attention,
+and he started to his feet.</p>
+<p>"Carter?" he cried&mdash;"is he&mdash;"</p>
+<p>Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows
+lay about her eyes.</p>
+<p>"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she
+went on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said,
+'Hurry back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon
+as I can travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't
+know whether it was right or wrong,&mdash;what you did,&mdash;but
+it was merciful: if you could have seen him that last week, crying
+all the time like a little child, afraid of the shadows on the
+wall, afraid to be alone, afraid to live, afraid to die&mdash;"</p>
+<p>Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.</p>
+<p>Sandy started forward, then he paused <!-- Page 299 -->
+and gripped the chair-back until his fingers were white.</p>
+<p>"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll
+break the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I
+can take you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak
+the word; but, by the saints&mdash;"</p>
+<p>"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture
+she laid her hands in his.</p>
+<p>For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he
+cried, searching her face, "nor gratitude!"</p>
+<p>She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul.</p>
+<p>"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the
+first."</p>
+<!-- Page 297 (Illustration) -->
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 457px;"><a name="i297" id=
+"i297"></a> <img src="images/297.gif" width="457" height="700" alt=
+"Illustration: 'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'" />
+</div>
+<!-- Page 298 (Blank facing page) -->
+<p>Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the
+jail into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth
+had told her story and the news had spread; public favor was
+rapidly turning in his direction.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 300 -->
+He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun
+and is blinded to everything else.</p>
+<p>"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm.
+"Where do you want to go?"</p>
+<p>Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one
+breath. He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the
+buggy; then he pulled himself up.</p>
+<p>"To Judge Hollis," he said.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<!-- Page 301 -->
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+<p>THE PRIMROSE WAY</p>
+<p>Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered
+tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely
+announced that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned,
+after a year's absence, and opened the old home.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had
+concluded to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her
+place came Miss Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother,
+who proved to be to the curious public a pump without a handle.</p>
+<p>About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the
+university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors
+<!-- Page 302 -->
+under which he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had
+accepted in the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the
+shining new sign, "Hollis &amp; Kilday," which appeared over the
+judge's dingy little office.</p>
+<p>Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come
+home, fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make
+his way in the world,&mdash;to make a name for her to share, and a
+record for her to be proud of. The opportunity that had been
+offered him was one in a lifetime. It had taken all his courage and
+strength and loyalty to refuse it, but Ruth had helped him.</p>
+<p>"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he
+lives we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world
+after a while."</p>
+<p>So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new
+sign over the office door with his own hand.</p>
+<p>The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he
+said, rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "
+<!-- Page 303 -->
+that's just about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"</p>
+<p>"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and
+make my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge
+repeated the joke to every one he saw that day.</p>
+<p>It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into
+positive facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed
+circumference. There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of
+the olden times, when a special car brought grand folk down from
+the city, and the townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine
+clothes and gay behavior with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to
+be a Clayton wedding for high and low, rich and poor.</p>
+<p>There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the
+morning of the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure
+to find that the sun was shining.</p>
+<p>Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping
+him pack his <!-- Page 304 -->
+trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in his
+nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him
+from wearing them all before the wedding.</p>
+<p>Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had
+tarried at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites
+over a rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom.</p>
+<p>The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon
+business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to
+go to the wedding.</p>
+<p>Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates
+stood open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the
+myrtle, while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled
+their greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the
+sunshine and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even
+the rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few
+venturesome <!-- Page 305 -->
+roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those within.</p>
+<p>And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded
+the place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the
+grounds in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the
+shadow of the big porches.</p>
+<p>In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and
+presented the guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely
+greetings counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits
+overhead.</p>
+<p>Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing
+monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer
+brook.</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and
+nervously practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked
+up for once in her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought
+of a little green mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her
+keep bright with flowers.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 306 -->
+They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and
+roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with
+a look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a
+bureau of information, giving and soliciting news concerning
+wedding presents, destination of wedding journey, and future
+plans.</p>
+<p>Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through
+rapturous throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made
+sure the ring was in the left pocket of his waistcoat.</p>
+<p>From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music.
+The warm breath of coming summer stole through the window.</p>
+<p>Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass
+to the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at
+its top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he
+was a ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was
+closing in, and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears.
+In <!-- Page 307 -->
+quick flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,&mdash;the
+days on shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at
+Hollis Farm, at the university,&mdash;and through them all that
+golden thread of romance that had led him safe and true to the very
+heart of the enchanted land where he was to dwell forever.</p>
+<p>"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer
+necktie!"</p>
+<p>It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these
+ominous words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding
+breakfast, but the events above-stairs had proved too alluring.</p>
+<p>Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in
+great excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send
+Jim, or Joe, or Nick&mdash;any of the darkies you can find!"</p>
+<p>"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs.
+"I's gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge."</p>
+<p>Messengers were sent in hot haste, one <!-- Page 308 -->
+to the farm and one to town, while Jimmy Reed was detailed to
+canvass the guests and see if a white four-in-hand might be
+procured.</p>
+<p>"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth
+trip up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want
+to take it off."</p>
+<p>"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation.
+"Don't he know that nobody will be looking at him?"</p>
+<p>Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and
+pink.</p>
+<p>"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much
+longer, and my hair is coming out of curl."</p>
+<p>"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed;
+and violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy
+with the original wedding tie.</p>
+<p>The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient
+guests were becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief
+fluttered from the landing and <!-- Page 309 -->
+Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together.</p>
+<p>Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously
+fidgeting under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of
+his coat, began:</p>
+<p>"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most
+time-hallowed institution known to man."</p>
+<p>Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even
+his necktie, faded from his mind.</p>
+<p>A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows
+he was making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm
+trembled, and his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and
+protection.</p>
+<p>"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing
+eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and
+then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her
+pure brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her
+cheek, led her away in trembling <!-- Page 310 -->
+joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names, their interests, their
+hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays of light, two drops
+of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss&mdash;to part no more forever."</p>
+<p>Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by
+sounds like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused,
+and all eyes were turned in consternation toward the door. Then
+through the stillness rang out a hallelujah from above.</p>
+<p>"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de
+thunder, done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done
+written in de Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!"</p>
+<p>To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt
+Melvy, after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen
+this inopportune time to "come th'u'."</p>
+<p>She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where
+she continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation.</p>
+<p><!-- Page 311 -->
+Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr.
+Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale.</p>
+<p>Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the
+beautiful bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was
+served indoors and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer
+that made it a gala day for the country around.</p>
+<p>When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town
+surrey, followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings
+as had never been known before. They started, discreetly enough,
+for the railroad-station, but when they reached the river road
+Sandy drew rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and
+along the wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the
+river, dancing, murmuring, beckoning.</p>
+<p>"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy,
+impulsively. "Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they
+lead."</p>
+<!-- Page 312 -->
+<p>"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful
+freedom.</p>
+<p>They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees,
+lay the long stretch of smiling valley.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 14079-h.txt or 14079-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/7/14079</a></p>
+<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.</p>
+
+<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions 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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.</p>
+
+
+
+<pre>
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+<a href="https://gutenberg.org/license">https://gutenberg.org/license)</a>.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">https://www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year.
+
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a>
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a>
+
+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/026.gif b/old/14079-h/images/026.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1580636
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/026.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/077.gif b/old/14079-h/images/077.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b623bb2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/077.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/173.gif b/old/14079-h/images/173.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0660263
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/173.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/195.gif b/old/14079-h/images/195.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e01a826
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/195.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/241.gif b/old/14079-h/images/241.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c25f40b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/241.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/297.gif b/old/14079-h/images/297.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c2d09e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/297.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/cover.gif b/old/14079-h/images/cover.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f9c0d7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/cover.gif
diff --git a/old/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif b/old/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c36b0d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079-h/images/frontispc.gif
diff --git a/old/14079.txt b/old/14079.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9ad83e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,6453 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sandy, by Alice Hegan Rice
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Sandy
+
+Author: Alice Hegan Rice
+
+Release Date: November 18, 2004  [eBook #14079]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Rick Niles, Ronald Holder, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 14079-h.htm or 14079-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h/14079-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079/14079-h.zip)
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through Kentuckiana
+      Digital Library. See http://kdl.kyvl.org
+
+
+
+
+
+SANDY
+
+by
+
+ALICE HEGAN RICE
+
+Author of _Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch_
+
+New York, The Century Co.
+
+1905
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long
+tan coat and a whit tam-o'-shanter"]
+
+
+
+TO MY AUNT
+
+MISS MARY A. HEGAN
+WHO USED TO TELL ME BETTER STORIES
+THAN I SHALL EVER WRITE
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+ CHAPTER
+
+       I THE STOWAWAY
+      II ON SHIPBOARD
+     III THE CURSE OF WEALTH
+      IV SIDE-TRACKED
+       V SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS
+      VI HOLLIS FARM
+     VII CONVALESCENCE
+    VIII AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER
+      IX TRANSITION
+       X WATERLOO
+      XI "THE LIGHT THAT LIES"
+     XII ANTICIPATION
+    XIII THE COUNTY FAIR
+     XIV A COUNCIL OF WAR
+      XV HELL AND HEAVEN
+     XVI THE NELSON HOME
+    XVII UNDER THE WILLOWS
+   XVIII THE VICTIM
+     XIX THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER
+      XX THE IRONY OF CHANCE
+     XXI IN THE DARK
+    XXII AT WILLOWVALE
+   XXIII "THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"
+    XXIV THE PRIMROSE WAY
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+"Looking up, he saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a
+white tam-o-shanter" Frontispiece
+
+"He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of his adoption"
+
+"He smiled away his debt of gratitude"
+
+"Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"
+
+"Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"
+
+"Sandy saw her waver"
+
+"'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE STOWAWAY
+
+
+An English mist was rolling lazily inland from the sea. It half
+enveloped the two great ocean liners that lay tugging at their
+moorings in the bay, and settled over the wharf with a grim
+determination to check, as far as possible, the traffic of the
+morning.
+
+But the activity of the wharf, while impeded, was in no wise stopped.
+The bustle, rattle, and shouting were, in fact, augmented by the
+temporary interference. Everybody seemed in a hurry, and everybody
+seemed out of temper, save a boy who lay at full length on the quay
+and earnestly studied a weather-vane that was lazily trying to make
+up its mind which way to point.
+
+He was ragged and brawny and picturesque. His hands, bronzed by the
+tan of sixteen summers, were clasped under his head, and his legs were
+crossed, one soleless shoe on high vaunting its nakedness in the face
+of an indifferent world. A sailor's blouse, two sizes too large, was
+held together at the neck by a bit of red cambric, and his trousers
+were anchored to their mooring by a heavy piece of yellow twine. The
+indolence of his position, however, was not indicative of the state of
+his mind; for under his weather-beaten old cap, perched sidewise on a
+tousled head, was a commotion of dreams and schemes, ambitions and
+plans, whose activities would have put to shame the busiest wharf in
+the world.
+
+"It's your show, Sandy Kilday!" he said, half aloud, with a bit of a
+brogue that flavored his speech as the salt flavors the sea air. "You
+don't want to be a bloomin' old weather-vane, a-changin' your mind
+every time the wind blows. Is it go, or stay?"
+
+The answer, instead of coming, got sidetracked by the train of thought
+that descended upon him when he was actually face to face with his
+decision. All sorts of memories came rushing pell-mell through his
+brain. The cold and hungry ones were the most insistent, but he
+brushed them aside.
+
+The one he clung to longest was the earliest and most shadowy of the
+lot. It was of a little white house on an Irish heath, and inside was
+the biggest fireplace in the world, where crimson flames went roaring
+up the big, dark chimney, and where witches and fairies held high
+carnival. There was a big chair on each side the hearth, and between
+them a tiny red rocker with flowers painted on the arms of it. That
+was the clearest of all. There were persons in the large chairs, one a
+silent Scotchman who, instinct told him, must have been his father,
+and the other--oh, tricky memory that faltered when he wanted it to be
+so clear!--was the maddest, merriest little mother that ever came
+back to haunt a lad. By holding tight to the memory he could see that
+her eyes were blue like his own, but her hair was black. He could hear
+the ring of her laugh as she told him Irish stories, and the soft
+drone of her voice as she sang him old Irish songs. It was she who
+told him about the fairies and witches that lived up behind the
+peat-flames. He remembered holding her hand and putting his cheek
+against it when the goblins came too near. Then the picture would go
+out, like a picture in a magic-lantern show, and sometimes Sandy could
+make it come back, and sometimes he could not.
+
+After that came a succession of memories, but none of them held the
+silent father and the merry mother and the little white house on the
+heath. They were of new faces and new places, of temporary homes with
+relatives in Ireland and Scotland, of various schools and unceasing
+work. Then came the day, two years ago, when, goaded by some
+injustice, real or imagined, he had run away to England and struck out
+alone and empty-handed to care for himself. It had been a rough
+experience, and there were days that he was glad to forget; but
+through it all the taste of freedom had been sweet in his mouth.
+
+For three weeks he had been hanging about the docks, picking up jobs
+here and there, accommodating any one who wanted to be accommodated,
+making many friends and little money. He had had no thought of
+embarking until the big English liner _Great Britain_ arrived in port
+after breaking all records on her homeward passage. She was to start
+on her second trip to-day, and an hour later her rival, the steamship
+_America_, was to take her departure. The relative merits of the two
+vessels had been the talk of the wharf for days.
+
+Sandy had made it a rule in life to be on hand when anything was
+happening. He had viewed cricket-matches from tree-tops, had answered
+the call of fire at midnight, and tramped ten miles to see the finish
+of a great regatta. But something was about to take place which seemed
+entirely beyond his attainment. Two hours passed before he solved the
+problem.
+
+"Takin' the rest-cure, kid?" asked a passing sailor as he shied a
+stick at Sandy's shins.
+
+Sandy stretched himself and smiled up at the sailor. It was a smile
+that waited for an answer and usually got it--a smile so brimming over
+with good-fellowship and confidence that it made a lover of a friend
+and a friend of an enemy.
+
+"It's a trip that I'm thinkin' of takin'," he cried blithely as he
+jumped to his feet. "Here's the shillin' I owe you, partner, and may
+the best luck ye've had be the worst luck that's comin'."
+
+He tossed a coin to the sailor, and thrusting his hands in his
+pockets, executed a brief but brilliant _pas seul_, and then went
+whistling away down the wharf. He swung along right cheerily, his rags
+fluttering, his chin in the air, for the wind had settled in one
+direction, and the weather-vane and Sandy had both made up their
+minds.
+
+The sailor looked after him fondly. "He's a bloomin' good little
+chap," he said to a man near by. "Carries a civil tongue in his head
+for everybody."
+
+The man grunted. "He's too off and on," he said. "He'll never come to
+naught."
+
+Two days later, the _America_, cutting her way across the Atlantic,
+carried one more passenger than she registered. In the big life-boat
+swung above the hurricane-deck lay Sandy Kilday, snugly concealed by
+the heavy canvas covering.
+
+He had managed to come aboard under cover of the friendly fog, and had
+boldly appropriated a life-boat and was doing light housekeeping. The
+apartment, to be sure, was rather small and dark, for the only light
+came through a tiny aperture where the canvas was tucked back. At this
+end Sandy attended to his domestic duties.
+
+Here were stored the fresh water and hardtack which the law requires
+every life-boat to carry in case of an emergency. Added to these was
+Sandy's private larder, consisting of several loaves of bread, a bag
+of apples, and some canned meat. The other end of the boat was
+utilized as a bedroom, a couple of life-preservers serving as the bed,
+and his own bundle of personal belongings doing duty as a pillow.
+
+There were some drawbacks, naturally, especially to an energetic,
+restless youngster who had never been in one place so long before in
+his life. It was exceedingly inconvenient to have to lie down or
+crawl; but Sandy had been used to inconveniences all his life, and
+this was simply a difference in kind, not in degree. Besides, he could
+steal out at night and, by being very careful and still, manage to
+avoid the night watch.
+
+The first night out a man and a girl had come up from the cabin deck
+and sat directly under his hiding-place. At first he was too much
+afraid of discovery to listen to what they were saying, but later his
+interest outweighed his fear. For they were evidently lovers, and
+Sandy was at that inflammable age when to hear mention of love is
+dangerous and to see a manifestation of it absolute contagion. When
+the great question came, his heart waited for the answer. Perhaps it
+was the added weight of his unspoken influence that turned the scale.
+She said yes. During the silence that followed, Sandy, unable to
+restrain his joy, threw his arms about a life-preserver and embraced
+it fervently.
+
+When they were gone he crawled out to stretch his weary body. On the
+deck he found a book which they had left; it was a green book, and on
+the cover was a golden castle on a golden hill. All the rest of his
+life he loved a green book best, for it was through this one that he
+found his way back again to that enchanted land that lay behind the
+peat-flames in the shadowy memory. Early in the morning he read it,
+with his head on the box of hardtack and his feet on the water-can.
+Twice he reluctantly tore himself from its pages and put it back where
+he had found it. No one came to claim it, and it lay there, with the
+golden castle shining in the sun. Sandy decided to take one more peep.
+
+It was all about gallant knights and noble lords, of damsels passing
+fair, of tourneys and feasts and battles fierce and long. Story after
+story he devoured, until he came to the best one of all. It told of a
+beautiful damsel with a mantle richly furred, who was girt with a
+cumbrous sword which did her great sorrow; for she might not be
+delivered of it save by a knight who was of passing good name both of
+his lands and deeds. And after that all the great knights had striven
+in vain to draw the sword from its sheath, a poor knight, poorly
+arrayed, felt in his heart that he might essay it, but was abashed. At
+last, however, when the damsel was departing, he plucked up courage to
+ask if he might try; and when she hesitated he said: "Fair damsel,
+worthiness and good deeds are not only in arrayment, but manhood and
+worship are hid within man's person." Then the poor knight took the
+sword by the girdle and sheath and drew it out easily.
+
+And it was not until then that Sandy knew that he had had no dinner,
+and that the sun had climbed over to the other side of the steamer,
+and that a continual cheering was coming up from the deck below.
+Cautiously he pulled back the canvas flap and emerged like the head of
+a turtle from his shell. The bright sunshine dazzled him for a moment,
+then he saw a sight that sent the dreams flying. There, just ahead,
+was the _Great Britain_ under full way, valiantly striving to hold her
+record against the oncoming steamer.
+
+Sandy sat up and breathlessly watched the champion of the sea, her
+smoke-stacks black against the wide stretch of shining waters. The
+Union Jack was flying in insolent security from her flagstaff. There
+were many figures on deck, and her music was growing louder every
+minute. Inch by inch the _America_ gained upon her, until they were
+bow and bow. The crowd below grew wilder, cheers went up from both
+steamers, the decks were white with the flutter of handkerchiefs.
+Suddenly the band below struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner." Sandy
+gave one triumphant glance at the Stars and Stripes floating overhead,
+and in that moment became naturalized. He leaped to his feet in the
+boat, and tearing the blouse from his back, waved the tattered banner
+in the face of the vanquished _Great Britain_, as he sent up yell
+after yell of victory for the land of his adoption.
+
+[Illustration: "He sent up yell after yell of victory for the land of
+his adoption"]
+
+Then he was seized by the ankle and jerked roughly down upon the deck.
+Over him stood the deck steward.
+
+"You`re a rum egg for that old boat to hatch out," he said. "I guess
+the cap'n will be wantin' to see you."
+
+Sandy, thus peremptorily summoned from the height of patriotic
+frenzy, collapsed in terror. Had the deck steward not been familiar
+with stowaways, he doubtless would have been moved by the flood of
+eloquent persuasion which Sandy brought to bear.
+
+As it was, he led him ruthlessly down the narrow steps, past the long
+line of curious passengers, then down again to the steerage deck,
+where he deposited him on a coil of rope and bade him stay there until
+he was sent for.
+
+Here Sandy sat for the remainder of the afternoon, stared at from
+above and below, an object of lively curiosity. He bit his nails until
+the blood came, and struggled manfully to keep back the tears. He was
+cold, hungry, and disgraced, and his mind was full of sinister
+thoughts. Inch by inch he moved closer to the railing.
+
+Suddenly something fell at his feet. It was an orange. Looking up, he
+saw a slender little girl in a long tan coat and a white
+tam-o'-shanter leaning over the railing. He only knew that her eyes
+were brown and that she was sorry for him, but it changed his world.
+He pulled off his cap, and sent her such an ardent smile of gratitude
+that she melted from the railing like a snowflake under the kiss of
+the sun.
+
+Sandy ate the orange and took courage. Life had acquired a new
+interest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ON SHIPBOARD
+
+
+The days that followed were not rose-strewn. Disgrace sat heavily upon
+the delinquent, and he did penance by foregoing the joys of society.
+Menial labor and the knowledge that he would not be allowed to land,
+but would be sent back by the first steamer, were made all the more
+unbearable by his first experience with illness. He had accepted his
+fate and prepared to die when the ship's surgeon found him.
+
+The ship's surgeon was cruel enough to laugh, but he persuaded Sandy
+to come back to life. He was a small, white, round little man; and
+when he came rolling down the deck in his white linen suit, his face
+beaming from its white frame of close-cropped hair and beard, he was
+not unlike one of his own round white little pills, except that their
+sweetness stopped on the outside and his went clear through.
+
+He discovered Sandy lying on his face in the passageway, his right
+hand still dutifully wielding the scrub-brush, but his spirit broken
+and his courage low.
+
+"Hello!" he exclaimed briskly; "what's your name?"
+
+"Sandy Kilday."
+
+"Scotch, eh?"
+
+"Me name is. The rest of me's Irish," groaned Sandy.
+
+"Well, Sandy, my boy, that's no way to scrub. Come out and get some
+air, and then go back and do it right."
+
+He guided Sandy's dying footsteps to the deck and propped him against
+the railing. That was when he laughed.
+
+"Not much of a sailor, eh?" he quizzed. "You'll be all right soon; we
+have been getting the tail-end of a big nor'wester."
+
+"A happy storm it must have been, sir, to wag its tail so gay," said
+Sandy, trying to smile.
+
+The doctor clapped him on the back. "You're better. Want something to
+eat?"
+
+Sandy declined with violence. He explained his feelings with all the
+authority of a first experience, adding in conclusion: "It was Jonah I
+used to be after feelin' sorry for; it ain't now. It's the whale."
+
+The doctor prevailed upon him to drink some hot tea and eat a
+sandwich. It was a heroic effort, but Sandy would have done even more
+to prolong the friendly conversation.
+
+"How many more days have we got, sir?"
+
+"Five; but there's the return trip for you."
+
+Sandy's face flushed. "If they send me home, I'll be comin' back!" he
+cried, clinging to the railing as the ship lurched forward. "I'm goin'
+to be an American. I am goin'--" Further declarations as to his
+future policy were cut short.
+
+From that time on the doctor took an interest in him. He even took up
+a collection of clothes for him among the officers. His professional
+services were no longer necessary, for Sandy enjoyed a speedy recovery
+from his maritime troubles.
+
+"You are luckier than the rest," he said, one day, stopping on his
+rounds. "I never had so many steerage patients before."
+
+The work was so heavy, in fact, that he obtained permission to get a
+boy to assist him. The happy duty devolved upon Sandy, who promptly
+embraced not only the opportunity, but the doctor and the profession
+as well. He entered into his new work with such energy and enthusiasm
+that by the end of the week he knew every man below the cabin deck. So
+expeditious did he become that he found many idle moments in which to
+cultivate acquaintances.
+
+His chosen companion at these times was a boy in the steerage,
+selected not for congeniality, but for his unlimited knowledge of all
+things terrestrial, from the easiest way of making a fortune to the
+best way of spending it. He was a short, heavy-set fellow of some
+eighteen years. His hair grew straight up from an overhanging
+forehead, under which two small eyes seemed always to be furtively
+watching each other over the bridge of his flat snub nose. His lips
+met with difficulty across large, irregular teeth. Such was Ricks
+Wilson, the most unprepossessing soul on board the good ship
+_America_.
+
+"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the
+smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a
+wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I
+lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in
+my hand and went out and seen the world. I tramps up to New York,
+works my way over to England, tramps and peddles, and gits enough
+dough to pay my way back. Say, it's bum slow over there. Why, they
+ain't even on to street-cars in London! I makes more in a week at home
+than I do in a month in England. Say, where you goin' at when we
+land?"
+
+Sandy shook his head ruefully. "I got to go back," he said.
+
+Ricks glanced around cautiously, then moved closer.
+
+"You ain't that big a sucker, are you? Any feller that couldn't hop
+the twig offen this old boat ain't much, that's all I got to say."
+
+"Oh, it's not the gettin' away," said Sandy, more certain than ever,
+now that he was sure of an ally.
+
+"Homesick?" asked Ricks, with a sneer.
+
+Sandy gave a short laugh. "Home? Why, I ain't got any home. I've just
+lived around since I was a young one. It's a chance to get on that I'm
+after."
+
+"Well, what in thunder is takin' you back?"
+
+"I don't know," said Sandy, "'cep'n' it ain't in me to give 'em the
+slip now I know 'em. Then there's the doctor--"
+
+"That old feather-bed? O Lord! He's so good he gives me a pain. Goes
+round with his mouth hiked up in a smile, and I bet he's as mean as
+the--"
+
+Before Hicks could finish he found himself inextricably tangled in
+Sandy's arms and legs, while that irate youth sat upon him and
+pommeled him soundly.
+
+"So it's the good doctor ye'd be after blasphemin' and abusin' and
+makin' game of! By the powers, ye'll take it back! Speak one time
+more, and I'll make you swaller the lyin' words, if I have to break
+every bone in your skin!"
+
+There was an ugly look in Ricks's face as he threw the smaller boy
+off, but further trouble was prevented by the appearance of the second
+mate.
+
+Sandy hurried away to his duties, but not without an anxious glance at
+the upper deck. He had never lost an opportunity, since that first
+day, of looking up; but this was the first time that he was glad she
+was not there. Only once had he caught sight of a white tam and a tan
+coat, and that was when they were being conducted hastily below by a
+sympathetic stewardess.
+
+But Sandy needed no further food for his dreams than he already had.
+On sunny afternoons, when he had the time, he would seek a secluded
+corner of the deck, and stretching himself on the boards with the
+green book in his hand, would float in a sea of sentiment. The fact
+that he had decided to study medicine and become a ship's surgeon in
+no wise interfered with his fixed purpose of riding forth into the
+world on a cream-white charger in search of a damsel in distress.
+
+So thrilled did he become with the vision that he fell to making
+rhymes, and was surprised to find that the same pair of eyes always
+rhymed with skies--and they were brown.
+
+Sometimes, at night, a group would gather on the steerage deck and
+sing. A black-haired Italian, with shirt open at the throat, would
+strike a pose and fling out a wild serenade; or a fat, placid German
+would remove his pipe long enough to troll forth a mighty
+drinking-song. Whenever the air was a familiar one, the entire circle
+joined in the chorus. At such times Sandy was always on hand, singing
+with the loudest and telling his story with the best.
+
+"Make de jolly little Irish one to sing by hisself!" called a woman
+one night from the edge of the crowd. The invitation was taken up and
+repeated on every side. Sandy, laughing and protesting, was pushed to
+the front. Being thus suddenly forced into prominence, he suffered an
+acute attack of stage fright.
+
+"Chirp up there now and give us a tune!" cried some one behind him.
+
+"Can't ye remember none?" asked another.
+
+"Sure," said Sandy, laughing sheepishly; "but they all come wrong end
+first."
+
+Some one had thrust an old guitar in his hands, and he stood
+nervously picking at the strings. He might have been standing there
+still had not the moon come to his rescue. It climbed slowly out of
+the sea and sent a shimmer of silver and gold over the water, across
+the deck, and into his eyes. He forgot himself and the crowd. The
+stream of mystical romance that flows through the veins of every true
+Irishman was never lacking in Sandy. His heart responded to the
+beautiful as surely as the echo answers the call.
+
+He seized the guitar, and picking out the notes with clumsy, faltering
+fingers, sang:
+
+    "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted,
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+His boyish voice rang out clear and true, softening on the refrain to
+an indescribable tenderness that steeped the old song in the very
+essence of mystery and love.
+
+    "As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!--
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+He could remember his mother singing him to sleep by it, and the
+bright red of her lips as they framed the words:
+
+    "Wan was her cheek which hung on my shoulder;
+    Chill was her hand, no marble was colder;
+    I felt that again I should never behold her;
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+As the song trembled to a close, a slight burst of applause came from
+the cabin deck. Sandy looked up, frowned, and bit his lip. He did not
+know why, but he was sorry he had sung.
+
+The next morning the _America_ sailed into New York harbor, band
+playing and flags flying. She was bringing home a record and a
+jubilant crew. On the upper decks passengers were making merry over
+what is probably the most joyful parting in the world. In the steerage
+all was bustle and confusion and anticipation of the disembarking.
+
+Eagerly, wistfully watching it all, stood Sandy, as alert and
+distressed as a young hound restrained from the hunt. It is something
+to accept punishment gracefully, but to accept punishment when it can
+be avoided is nothing short of heroism. Sandy had to shut his eyes and
+grip the railing to keep from planning an escape. Spread before him in
+brave array across the water lay the promised land--and, like Moses,
+he was not to reach it.
+
+"That's the greatest city in America," said the ship's surgeon as he
+came up to where he was standing. "What do you think of it?"
+
+"I never seen one stand on end afore!" exclaimed Sandy, amazed.
+
+"Would you like to go ashore long enough to look about?" asked the
+doctor, with a smile running around the fat folds of his cheeks.
+
+"And would I?" asked Sandy, his eyes flying open. "It's me word of
+honor I'd give you that I'd come back."
+
+"The word of a stowaway, eh?" asked the doctor, still smiling.
+
+In a moment Sandy's face was crimson. "Whatever I be, sir, I ain't a
+liar!"
+
+The doctor pursed up his lips in comical dismay: "Not so hot, my man;
+not so hot! So you still want to be a doctor?"
+
+Sandy cooled down sufficiently to say that it was the one ambition of
+his life.
+
+"I know the physician in charge of the City Hospital here in New York.
+He's a good fellow. He'd put you through--give you work and put you in
+the way of going to the Medical School. You'd like that?"
+
+"But," cried Sandy, bewildered but hopeful, "I have to go back!"
+
+The doctor shook his head. "No, you don't. I've paid your passage."
+
+Sandy waited a moment until the full import of the words was taken in,
+then he grabbed the stout little doctor and almost lifted him off his
+feet.
+
+"Oh! But ain't you a brick!" he cried fervently, adding earnestly: "It
+ain't a present you're makin' me, though! I'll pay it back, so help me
+bob!"
+
+At the pier the crowd of immigrants pushed and crowded impatiently as
+they waited for the cabin passengers to go ashore. Among them was
+Sandy, bareheaded and in motley garb, laughing and shoving with the
+best of them, hanging over the railing, and keeping up a fire of
+merriment at the expense of the crowd below. In his hand was a letter
+of recommendation to the physician in charge at the City Hospital, and
+in his inside pocket a ten-dollar bill was buttoned over a heart that
+had not a care in the world. In the great stream of life Sandy was one
+of the bubbles that are apt to come to the top.
+
+"You better come down to Kentucky with me," urged Ricks Wilson,
+resuming an old argument. "I'm goin' to peddle my way back home, then
+git a payin' job at the racetrack."
+
+"Wasn't I tellin' ye that it was a doctor I'm goin' to be?" asked
+Sandy, impatiently. Already Ricks's friendship was proving irksome.
+
+On the gang-plank above him the passengers were leaving the ship.
+Some delay had arisen, and for a moment the procession halted.
+Suddenly Sandy caught his breath. There, just above him, stood "the
+damsel passing fair." Instead of the tam-o'-shanter she wore a big
+drooping hat of brown, which just matched the curls that were loosely
+tied at the back of her neck.
+
+Sandy stood motionless and humbly adored her. He was a born lover,
+lavishing his affection, without discrimination or calculation, upon
+whatever touched his heart. It surely was no harm just to stand aside
+and look. He liked the way she carried her head; he liked the way her
+eyes went up a little at the outer corners, and the round, soft curve
+of her chin. She was gazing steadfastly ahead of her down the
+gang-plank, and he ventured a step nearer and continued his
+observations. As he did so, he made a discovery. The soft white of her
+cheek was gradually becoming pinker and pinker; the color which began
+under her lace collar stole up and up until it reached her eyes,
+which still gazed determinedly before her.
+
+Sandy admired it as a traveler admires a sunrise, and with as little
+idea of having caused it.
+
+The line of passengers moved slowly forward, and his heart sank.
+Suddenly his eyes fell upon the little hand-bag which she carried. On
+one end, in small white letters, was: "Ruth Nelson, Kentucky, U.S.A."
+He watched her until she was lost to view, then he turned eagerly back
+into the crowd. Elbowing his way forward, he seized Ricks by the arm.
+
+"Hi, there!" he cried; "I've changed me mind. I'm goin' with you to
+Kentucky!"
+
+So this impetuous knight errant enlisted under the will-o'-the-wisp
+love, and started joyously forth upon his quest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE CURSE OF WEALTH
+
+
+It is an oft-proved adage that for ten who can stand adversity there
+is but one who can stand prosperity. Sandy, alas! was no exception to
+any rule which went to prove the frailty of human nature. The sudden
+acquisition of ten dollars cast him into a whirlpool of temptation
+from which he made little effort to escape.
+
+"I ain't goin' on to-day," announced Ricks. "I'm goin' to lay in my
+goods for peddlin'. I reckon you kin come along of me."
+
+Sandy accepted a long and strong cigar, tilted his hat, and
+unconsciously caught Ricks's slouching gait as they went down the
+street. After all, it was rather pleasant to associate with
+sophistication.
+
+"We'll git on the outside of a little dinner," said Ricks; "and I'll
+mosey round in the stores awhile, then I'll take you to a show or two.
+It's a mighty good thing for you that you got me along."
+
+Sandy thought so too. He cheerfully stood treat for the rest of the
+day, and felt that it was small return for Ricks's condescension.
+
+"How much you got left?" asked Ricks, that night, as they stopped
+under a street light to take stock.
+
+Sandy held out a couple of dollars and a fifty-cent piece.
+
+"Enough to put on the eyes of two and a half dead men," he said as he
+curiously eyed the strange money.
+
+"One, two,--two and a half," counted Ricks.
+
+"Shillings?" asked Sandy, amazed.
+
+Ricks nodded.
+
+"And have I blowed all that to-day?"
+
+"What of it?" asked Ricks. "I seen a bloke onct what lit his cigar
+with a bill like the one you had!"
+
+"But the doctor said it was two pounds," insisted Sandy,
+incredulously. He did not realize the expense of a personally
+conducted tour of the Bowery.
+
+"Well, it's went," said Ricks, resignedly. "You can't count on settin'
+up biz with what's left."
+
+Sandy's brows clouded, and he shifted his position restlessly. "Now I
+ax yerself, Ricks, what'u'd you do?" he said.
+
+"Me? I don't give advice to nobody. But effen it was me I'd know
+mighty quick what to do."
+
+"What?" said Sandy, eagerly.
+
+"Buy a dawg."
+
+"A dog? I ain't goin' blind."
+
+"Lor'! but you're a softhorn," said Ricks, contemptuously. "I s'pose
+you'd count on leadin' him round by a pink ribbon."
+
+"Oh, you mean a fighter?"
+
+"Sure. My last dawg could do ever'thing in sight. She was so game she
+went after herself in a lookin'-glass and got kilt. Oh, they's money
+in dawgs, and I knows how to make 'em win ever' time."
+
+Sandy, tired as he was from the day's excitement, insisted upon going
+in search of one at once. He already had visions of becoming the proud
+owner of a canine champion that would put him immediately into the
+position of lighting his cigar with a two-pound note.
+
+The first three weeks of their experience on the road went far to
+realize their expectations. The bulldog, which had been bought in
+partnership, proved a conquering hero. Through the long summer days
+the boys tramped over the country, peddling their wares, and by night
+they conducted sundry unlawful encounters wherever an opponent could
+be found.
+
+Sandy enjoyed the peddling. It was astonishing what friendly
+sociability and confidential intimacy were established by the sale of
+blue suspenders and pink soap. He left a line of smiling testimonials
+in his wake.
+
+But if the days were proving satisfactory, so much could not be said
+of the nights. Even the phenomenal luck that followed his dog failed
+to keep up his enthusiasm.
+
+"You ain't a nachrul sport," complained Ricks. "That's your trouble.
+When the last fight was on, you set on the fence and listened at a'
+ole idiot scrapin' a fiddle down in the valley."
+
+Sandy made a feeble defense, but he knew in his soul it was so.
+
+Affairs reached a climax one night in an old barn on the outskirts of
+a town. A fight was about to begin when Sandy discovered Ricks
+judiciously administering a sedative to the enemy's dog.
+
+Then understanding dawned upon him, and his rage was elemental. With a
+valor that lacked the better part of discretion, he hurled himself
+through the crowd and fell upon Ricks.
+
+An hour later, bruised, bloody, and vanquished, he stumbled along
+through the dreary night. Hot with rage and defeat, utterly ignorant
+of his whereabouts, his one friend turned foe, he was indeed in sorry
+plight.
+
+He climbed over the fence and lay face downward in the long, cool
+grass, stretching his bruised and aching body along the ground. A
+gentle night wind rustled above him, and by and by a star peeped out,
+then another and another. Before he knew it, he was listening to the
+frogs and katydids, and wondering what they were talking about. He
+ceased to think about Ricks and his woes, and gave himself up to the
+delicious, drowsy peace that was all about him. For, child of nature
+that he was, he had turned to the only mother he knew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SIDE-TRACKED
+
+
+The next morning, at the nearest railroad station, an irate cattleman
+was trying to hire some one to take charge of a car of live stock
+which was on its way to a great exposition in a neighboring city. The
+man he had counted on had not appeared, and the train was about due.
+
+As he was turning away in desperation he felt a tug at his elbow.
+Looking around, he saw a queer figure with a countenance that
+resembled a first attempt at a charcoal sketch from life: one cheek
+was larger than the other, the mouth was sadly out of drawing, the
+eyes shone out from among the bruises like the sun from behind the
+clouds. But if the features were disfigured, the smile was none the
+less courageous.
+
+Sandy had found a friendly sympathizer at a neighboring farm-house,
+had been given a good breakfast, had made his toilet, and was ready
+for the next round in the fight of life.
+
+"I'll be doin' yer job, sir, whatever it is," he said pleasantly.
+
+The man eyed him with misgiving, but his need was urgent.
+
+"All you have to do is to stay in the car and look after the cattle.
+My man will meet you when you reach the city. Do you think you can do
+it?"
+
+"Just keep company with the cows?" cried Sandy. "Sure and I can!"
+
+So the bargain was struck, and that night found him in the great city
+with a dollar in his pocket and a promise of work in the morning.
+
+Tired and sore from the experiences of the night before, he sought a
+cheap lodging-house near by. A hook-nosed woman, carrying a smoking
+lamp, conducted him to a room under the eaves. It was small and
+suffocating. He involuntarily lifted his hands and touched the
+ceiling.
+
+"It's like a boilin' potato I feel," he said; "and the pot's so little
+and the lid so tight!"
+
+He went to the window, and taking out the nail that held down the
+sash, pushed it up. Below him lay the great, bustling city, cabs and
+cars in constant motion, long lines of blazing lights marking the
+thoroughfares, the thunder of trains in the big station, and above and
+below and through it all a dull monotonous roar, like the faraway
+unceasing cry of a hungry beast.
+
+He sank on his knees by the window, and a restless, nervous look came
+into his eyes.
+
+"It presses in, too," he thought. "It's all crowdin' over me. I'm just
+me by myself, all alone." A tear made a white course down his grimy
+cheek, then another and another. He brushed them impatiently away with
+the cap he still held in his hand.
+
+Rising abruptly, he turned away from the window, and the hot air of
+the room again smote him. The smoking lamp had blackened the chimney,
+and as he bent to turn it down, he caught his reflection in a small
+mirror over the table. What the bruises and swelling had left undone
+the cheap mirror completed. He started back. Was that the boy he knew
+as himself? Was that Sandy Kilday who had come to America to seek his
+fortune? He stared in a sort of fascinated horror at that other boy in
+the mirror. Before he had been afraid to be by himself, now he was
+afraid of himself.
+
+He seized his cap, and blowing out the lamp, plunged down four flights
+of steep narrow steps and out into the street. A number of people were
+crowding into a street-car marked "Exposition." Sandy, ever a straw in
+the current, joined them. Once more down among his fellow-men, he
+began to feel more comfortable. He cheerfully paid his entrance fee
+with one of the two silver coins in his pocket.
+
+The first building he entered was the art gallery, and the first
+picture that caught his eye held him spellbound. He sat before it all
+the evening with fascinated eyes, devouring every detail and oblivious
+to the curious interest he was attracting; for the huge canvas
+represented the Knights of the Round Table, and he had at last found
+friends.
+
+All the way back he thought about the picture; it was not until he
+reached his room that the former loneliness returned.
+
+But even then it was not for long. A pair of yellow eyes peered around
+the window-sill, and a plaintive "meow" begged for admittance. It was
+plainly Providence that guided that thin and ill-treated kitten to
+Sandy's window. The welcome it received must have completely restored
+its shaken faith in human nature. Tired as he was, Sandy went out and
+bought some milk. He wanted to establish a firm friendship; for if he
+was to stay in this lonely city, he must have something to love, if
+only a prodigal kitten of doubtful pedigree.
+
+During the long, hot days that followed Sandy worked faithfully at the
+depot. The regular hours and confinement seemed doubly irksome after
+the bohemian life on the road.
+
+The Exposition was his salvation. No sacrifice seemed too great to
+enable him to get beyond that magic gate. For the "Knights of the
+Round Table" was but the beginning of miles and miles of wonderful
+pictures. He even bought a catalogue, and, prompted by a natural
+curiosity for anything that interested him, learned the names of the
+artists he liked best, and the bits of biography attached to each. He
+would recite these to the yellow kitten when he got back to his little
+hot-box of a room.
+
+One night the art gallery was closed, and he went into another big
+building where a crowd of people were seated. At one end of it was a
+great pipe-organ, and after a while some one began to play. With his
+cap tightly grasped in both hands, he tiptoed down the center aisle
+and stood breathlessly drinking in the wonderful tones that seemed to
+be coming from his own heart.
+
+"Get out of the way, boy," said an usher. "You are blocking the
+aisle."
+
+A queer-appearing lady who looked like a man touched his elbow.
+
+"Here's a seat," she said in a deep voice.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Sandy, absently. He scarcely knew whether he
+was sitting or standing. He only wanted to be let alone, so that he
+could listen to those strange, beautiful sounds that made a shiver of
+joy go down his back. Art had had her day; it was Music's turn.
+
+When the last number had been played, he turned to the queer lady:
+
+"Do they do it every night?"
+
+She smiled at his enthusiasm: "Wednesdays and Saturdays."
+
+"Say," said Sandy, confidentially, "if you come first do you save me
+a seat, and I'll do the same by you."
+
+From that time on he decided to be a musician, and he lived on two
+scanty meals a day in order to attend the concerts.
+
+But this exalted scheme of high thinking and plain living soon became
+irksome. One day, when his loneliness weighed most heavily upon him,
+he was sent with a message out to the switch-station. As he tramped
+back along the track he spied a familiar figure ahead of him. There
+was no mistaking that short, slouching body with the peddler's pack
+strapped on its back. With a cry of joy, Sandy bounded after Ricks
+Wilson. He actually hugged him in his joy to be once more with some
+one he knew.
+
+Ricks glanced uneasily at the scar above his eye.
+
+Sandy clapped his hand over it and laughed. "It's all right, Ricks; a
+miss is as good as a mile. I ain't mad any more. It's straight home
+with me you are goin'; and if we can get the two feet of you into me
+bit of a room, we'll have a dinner that's fit for a king."
+
+On the way they laid in a supply of provisions, Sandy even going to
+the expense of a bottle of beer for Ricks.
+
+The yellow kitten arched her back and showed general signs of
+hostility when the stranger was introduced. But her unfriendly
+demonstrations were ignored. Ricks was the honored guest, and Sandy
+extended to him the full hospitality of the establishment.
+
+"Put your pack on the floor and yerself in the chair, and I'll get ye
+filled up in the blink of an eyelash. Don't be mindin' the cat, Ricks.
+She's just lettin' on she don't take to you. She give me the wink on
+the sly."
+
+Ricks, expanding under the influence of food and drink, became
+eloquent. He recounted courageous adventures of the past, and outlined
+marvelous schemes for the future, by which he was going to make a
+short cut to fame and glory.
+
+When it was time for him to go, Sandy heaved a sigh of regret. For
+two hours he had been beguiled by Ricks's romances, and now he had to
+go back to the humdrum duties at the depot, and receive a sound rating
+for his belated appearance.
+
+"Which way might you be goin', Ricks?" he asked wistfully.
+
+"Same place I started fer," said Ricks. "Kentucky."
+
+The will-o'-the-wisp, which had been hiding his light, suddenly swung
+it full in the eyes of Sandy. Once more he saw the little maid of his
+dreams, and once more he threw discretion to the winds and followed
+the vision.
+
+Hastily collecting his few possessions, he rolled them into a bundle,
+and slipping the surprised kitten into his pocket, he gladly followed
+Ricks once more out into the broad green meadows, along the white and
+shining roads that lead over the hills to Kentucky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+SANDY RETIRES FROM BUSINESS
+
+
+"This here is too blame slow fer me," said Ricks, one chilly night in
+late September, as he and Sandy huddled against a haystack and settled
+up their weekly accounts.
+
+"Fifty-five cents! Now ain't that a' o'nery dab? Here's a quarter fer
+you and thirty cents fer me; that's as even as you kin split it."
+
+"It's the microscopes that'll be sellin'," said Sandy, hopefully, as
+he pulled his coat collar about his ears and shivered. "The man as
+sold 'em to me said they was a great bargain entirely. He thought
+there was money in 'em."
+
+"For him," said Ricks, contemptuously. "It's like the man what gulled
+us on the penknives. I lay to git even with him, all right."
+
+"But he give us the night's lodgin' and some breakfast," said Sandy.
+
+Ricks took a long drink from a short bottle, then holding it before
+him, he said impressively: "A feller could do me ninety-nine good
+turns, and if he done me one bad one it would wipe 'em all out. I got
+to git even with anybody what does me dirty, if it takes me all my
+life."
+
+"But don't you forget to remember?"
+
+"Not me. I ain't that kind."
+
+Sandy leaned wearily against the haystack and tried to shelter himself
+from the wind. A continued diet of bread and water had made him
+sensitive to the changes in the weather.
+
+"This here grub is kinder hard on yer head-rails," said Ricks, trying
+to bite through a piece of stale bread. A baker had let them have
+three loaves for a dime because they were old and hard.
+
+Sandy cast a longing look at Ricks's short bottle. It seemed to
+remedy so many ills, heat or cold, thirst or hunger. But the strict
+principles applied during his tender years made him hesitate.
+
+"I wish we hadn't lost the kitten," he said, feeling the need of a
+more cheerful companion.
+
+"I'm a-goin' to git another dawg," announced Ricks. "I'm sick of this
+here doin's."
+
+"Ain't we goin' to be turfmen?" asked Sandy, who had listened by the
+hour to thrilling accounts of life on the track, and had accepted
+Ricks's ambition as his own.
+
+"Not on twenty cents per week," growled Ricks.
+
+Sandy's heart sank; he knew what a new dog meant. He burrowed in the
+hay and tried to sleep, but there was a queer pain that seemed to
+catch hold of his breath whenever he breathed down deep.
+
+It rained the next day, and they tramped disconsolately through
+village after village.
+
+They had oil-cloth covers for their baskets, but their own backs were
+soaked to the skin.
+
+Toward evening they came to the top of a hill, from which they could
+look directly down upon a large town lying comfortably in the crook of
+a river's elbow. The rain had stopped, and the belated sun, struggling
+through the clouds, made up for lost time by reflecting itself in
+every curve of the winding stream, in every puddle along the road, and
+in every pane of glass that faced the west.
+
+"That's a nobby hoss," said Ricks, pointing down the hill. "What's the
+matter with the feller?"
+
+A slight, delicate-looking young man was lying in the road, between
+the horse and the fence. As the boys came up he stirred and tried to
+rise.
+
+"He's off his nut," said Ricks, starting to pass on; but Sandy
+stopped.
+
+"Get a fall?" he asked.
+
+The strange boy shook his head. "I guess I fainted. I must have
+ridden too hard. I'll be all right in a minute." He leaned his head
+against a tree and closed his eyes.
+
+Sandy eyed him curiously, taking in all the details of his
+riding-costume down to the short whip with the silver mounting.
+
+"I say, Ricks," he called to his companion, who was inspecting the
+horse, "can't we do somethin' for him?"
+
+Ricks reluctantly produced the short bottle.
+
+"I'm all right," insisted the boy, "if you'll just give me a lift to
+the saddle." But his eager eyes followed the bottle, and before Ricks
+had returned it to his pocket he held out his hand. "I believe I will
+take a drink if you don't mind." He drained the contents and then
+handed a coin to Ricks.
+
+"Now, if you'll help me," continued the stranger. "There! Thank you
+very much."
+
+"Say, what town is this, anyway?" asked Ricks.
+
+"Clayton," said the boy, trying to keep his horse from backing.
+
+"Looks like somethin' was doin'," said Ricks.
+
+"Circus, I believe."
+
+"Then I don't blame your nag for wantin' to go back!" cried Sandy.
+"Come on, Ricks; let's take in the show!"
+
+Half-way down the hill he turned. "Haven't we seen that fellow before,
+Ricks?"
+
+"Not as I knows of. He looked kinder pale and shaky, but you bet yer
+life he knowed how to hit the bottle."
+
+"He was sick," urged Sandy.
+
+"An' thirsty," added Ricks, with a smile of superior wisdom.
+
+The circus seemed such a timely opportunity to do business that they
+decided to rent a stand that night and sell their wares on the street
+corner. Ricks went on into town to arrange matters, while Sandy
+stopped in a grocery to buy their supper. His interest in the show had
+been of short duration. He felt listless and tired, something seemed
+to be buzzing continually in his head, and he shivered in his damp
+clothes. In the grocery he sat on a barrel and leaned his head against
+the wall.
+
+"What you shivering about?" asked the fat woman behind the counter, as
+she tied up his small package.
+
+"I feel like me skeleton was doin' a jig inside of me," said Sandy
+through chattering teeth.
+
+"Looks to me like you got a chill," said the fat woman. "You wait
+here, and I'll go git you some hot coffee."
+
+She disappeared in the rear of the store, and soon returned with a
+small coffee-pot and a cup and saucer. Sandy drank two cups and a
+half, then he asked the price.
+
+"Price?" repeated the woman, indignantly. "I reckon you don't know
+which side of the Ohio River you're on!"
+
+Sandy made up in gratitude what she declined in cash, and started on
+his way. At the corner of Main street and the bridge he found Ricks,
+who had rented a stand and was already arranging his wares. Sandy
+knelt on the sidewalk and unpacked his basket.
+
+"Only three bars of soap and seventy-five microscopes!" he exclaimed
+ruefully. "Let's be layin' fine stress on the microscopes, Ricks."
+
+"You do the jawin', Sandy. I ain't much on givin' 'em the talk," said
+Ricks. "Chuck a jolly at 'em and keep 'em hangin' round."
+
+As dark came on, trade began. The three bars of soap were sold, and a
+purple necktie. Sandy saw that public taste must be guided in the
+proper direction. He stepped up on a box and began eloquently to
+enumerate the diverse uses of microscopes.
+
+At each end of the stand a flaring torch lighted up the scene. The
+light fell on the careless, laughing faces in front, on Ricks Wilson,
+black-browed and suspicious, in the rear, and it fell full on Sandy,
+who stood on high and harangued the crowd. It fell on his broad,
+straight shoulders and on his shining tumbled hair; but it was not
+the light of the torch that gave the brightness to his eyes and the
+flush to his cheek. His head was throbbing, but he felt a curious
+sense of elation. He felt that he could stand there and talk the rest
+of his life. He made the crowd listen, he made it laugh, he made it
+buy. He told stories and sang songs, he coaxed and persuaded, until
+only a few microscopes were left and the old cigar-box was heavy with
+silver.
+
+"Step right up and take a look at a fly's leg! Every one ought to have
+a microscope in his home. When you get hard up it will make a dime
+look like a dollar, and a dollar like a five-dollar gold piece. Step
+right up! I ain't kiddin' you. Five cents for two looks, and fifteen
+for the microscope."
+
+Suddenly he faltered. At the edge of the crowd he had recognized two
+faces. They were sensitive slender faces, strangely alike in feature
+and unlike in expression. The young horseman of the afternoon was
+impatiently pushing his way through the crowd, while close behind him
+was a dainty girl with brown eyes slightly lifted at the outer
+corners, who held back in laughing wonder to watch the scene.
+
+"Ricks," said Sandy, lowering his voice unsteadily, "is this
+Kentucky?"
+
+"Yep; we crossed the line to-day."
+
+"I can't talk no more," said Sandy. "You'll have to be doin' it. I'm
+sick."
+
+It was not only the fever that was burning in his veins, and making
+him bury his hot head in his hands and wish he had never been born. It
+was shame and humiliation, and all because of the look on the face of
+the girl at the edge of the crowd. He sat in the shadow of the big box
+and fought his fight. The coffee and the excitement no longer kept him
+up; he was faint, and his breath came short. Above him he heard
+Ricks's rasping voice still talking to the few customers who were
+left. He knew, without glancing up, just how Ricks looked when he said
+the words; he knew how his teeth pushed his lips back, and how his
+restless little eyes watched everything at once. A sudden fierce
+repulsion swept over him for peddling, for Ricks, for himself.
+
+"And to think," he whispered, with a sob in his throat, "that I can't
+ever speak to a girl like that!"
+
+Ricks, jubilant over the success of the evening, decided to follow the
+circus, which was to be in the next town on the following day.
+
+"It ain't fur," he said. "We kin push on to-night and be ready to open
+early in the morning."
+
+Sandy, miserable in body and spirit, mechanically obeyed instructions.
+His head was getting queerer all the time, and he could not remember
+whether it was day or night. About a mile from Clayton he sank down by
+the road.
+
+"Say, Ricks," he said abruptly; "I'm after quittin' peddlin'."
+
+"What you goin' to do?"
+
+"I'm goin' to school."
+
+If Sandy had announced his intention of putting on baby clothes and
+being wheeled in a perambulator, Ricks could not have been more
+astonished.
+
+"What?" he asked in genuine doubt.
+
+"'Cause I want to be the right sort," burst out Sandy, passionately.
+"This ain't the way you get to be the right sort."
+
+Ricks surveyed him contemptuously. "Look-a here, are you comin' along
+of me or not?"
+
+"I can't," said Sandy, weakly.
+
+Ricks shifted his pack, and with never a parting word or a backward
+look he left his business partner of three months lying by the
+roadside, and tramped away in the darkness.
+
+Sandy started up to follow him; he tried to call, but he had no
+strength. He lay with his face on the road and talked. He knew there
+was nobody to listen, but still he kept on, softly talking about
+microscopes and pink soap, crying out again and again that he
+couldn't ever speak to a girl like that.
+
+After a long while somebody came. At first he thought he must have
+gone back to the land behind the peat-flames, for it was a great black
+witch who bent over him, and he instinctively felt about in the grass
+for the tender, soft hand which he used to press against his cheek. He
+found instead the hand of the witch herself, and he drew back in
+terror.
+
+"Fer de Lawd sake, honey, what's de matter wif you?" asked a kindly
+voice. Sandy opened his eyes. A tall old negro woman bent over him,
+her head tied up in a turban, and a shawl about her shoulders.
+
+"Did you git runned over?" she asked, peering down at him anxiously.
+
+Sandy tried to explain, but it was all the old mixture of soap and
+microscopes and never being able to speak to her. He knew he was
+talking at random, but he could not say the things he thought.
+
+"Where'd you come from, boy?"
+
+"Curragh Chase, Limerick," murmured Sandy.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd, he's done been cunjered!" cried the old woman, aghast.
+"I'll git it outen of you, chile. You jus' come home wif yer Aunt
+Melvy; she'll take keer of you. Put yer arm on my shoulder; dat's
+right. Don't you mind where you gwine at. I got yer bundle. It ain't
+fur. Hit's dat little house a-hangin' on de side of de hill. Dey calls
+it 'Who'd 'a' Thought It,' 'ca'se you nebber would 'a' thought of
+puttin' a house dere. Dat's right; lean on yer mammy. I'll git dem old
+cunjers outen you."
+
+Thus encouraged and supported, Sandy stumbled on through the dark, up
+a hillside that seemed never to end, across a bridge, then into a tiny
+log cabin, where he dropped exhausted.
+
+Off and on during the night he knew that there was a fire in the room,
+and that strange things were happening to him. But it was all so queer
+and unnatural that he did not know where the dreams left off and the
+real began. He was vaguely conscious of his left foot being tied to
+the right bedpost, of a lock of his hair being cut off and burned on
+the hearth, and of a low monotonous chant that seemed to rise and fall
+with the flicker of the flames. And when he cried out with the pain in
+his sleep, a kindly black face bent over him, and the chant changed
+into a soothing murmur:
+
+"Nebber you min', sonny; Aunt Melvy gwine git dem cunjers out. She
+gwine stay by you. You hol' on to her han', an' go to sleep; she'll
+git dem old cunjers out."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+HOLLIS FARM
+
+
+Clayton was an easy-going, prosperous old town which, in the
+enthusiasm of youth, had started to climb the long hill to the north,
+but growing indolent with age, had decided instead to go around.
+
+Main street, broad and shady under an unbroken arch of maple boughs,
+was flanked on each side by "Back street," the generic term applied to
+all the parallel streets. The short cross-streets were designated by
+the most direct method: "the street by the Baptist church," "the
+street by Dr. Fenton's," "the street going out to Judge Hollis's," or
+"the street where Mr. Moseley used to live." In the heart of the town
+was the square, with the gray, weather-beaten court-house, the new and
+formidable jail, the post-office and church.
+
+For twenty years Dr. Fenton's old high-seated buggy had jogged over
+the same daily course. It started at nine o'clock and passed with
+never-varying regularity up one street and down another. When any one
+was ill a sentinel was placed at the gate to hail the doctor, who was
+as sure to pass as the passenger-train. It was a familiar joke in
+Clayton that the buggy had a regular track, and that the wheels always
+ran in the same rut. Once, when Carter Nelson had taken too much
+egg-nog and his aunt thought he had spinal meningitis, the usual route
+had been reversed, and again when the blacksmith's triplets were born.
+But these were especial occasions. It was a matter for investigation
+when the doctor's buggy went over the bridge before noon.
+
+"Anybody sick out this way?" asked the miller.
+
+The doctor stopped the buggy to explain.
+
+He was a short, fat man dressed in a suit of Confederate gray. The
+hand that held the reins was minus two fingers, his willing
+contribution to the Lost Cause, which was still to him the great
+catastrophe of all history. His whole personality was a bristling
+arsenal of prejudices. When he spoke it was in quick, short volleys,
+in a voice that seemed to come from the depths of a megaphone.
+
+"Strange boy sick at Judge Hollis's. How's trade?"
+
+"Fair to middlin'," answered the miller. "Do you reckon that there boy
+has got anything ketchin'?"
+
+"Catching?" repeated the doctor savagely. "What if he has?" he
+demanded. "Two epidemics of typhoid, two of yellow fever, and one of
+smallpox--that's my record, sir!"
+
+"Looks like my children will ketch a fly-bite," said the miller,
+apologetically.
+
+A little farther on the doctor was stopped again--this time by a
+maiden in a pink-and-white gingham, with a mass of light curls
+bobbing about her face.
+
+"Dad!" she called as she scrambled over the fence. "Where you g-going,
+dad?"
+
+The doctor flapped the lines nervously and tried to escape, but she
+pursued him madly. Catching up with the buggy, she pulled herself up
+on the springs and thrust an impudent, laughing face through the
+window at the back.
+
+"Annette," scolded her father, "aren't you ashamed? Fourteen years
+old, and a tomboy! Get down!"
+
+"Where you g-going, dad?" she stammered, unabashed.
+
+"To Judge Hollis's. Get down this minute!"
+
+"What for?"
+
+"Somebody's sick. Get down, I say!"
+
+Instead of getting down, she got in, coming straight through the small
+window, and arriving in a tangle of pink and white at his side.
+
+The doctor heaved a prodigious sigh. As a colonel of the Confederacy
+he had exacted strict discipline and unquestioning obedience, but he
+now found himself ignominiously reduced to the ranks, and another
+Fenton in command.
+
+At Hollis Farm the judge met them at the gate. He was large and
+loose-jointed, with the frame of a Titan and the smile of a child. He
+wore a long, loose dressing-gown and a pair of slippers elaborately
+embroidered in green roses. His big, irregular features were softened
+by an expression of indulgent interest toward the world at large.
+
+"Good morning, doctor. Howdy, Nettie. How are you all this morning?"
+
+"Who's sick?" growled the doctor as he hitched his horse to the fence.
+
+"It's a stray lad, doctor; my old cook, Melvy, played the good
+Samaritan and picked him up off the road last night. She brought him
+to me this morning. He's out of his head with a fever."
+
+"Where'd he come from?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Mrs. Hollis says he was peddling goods up at Main street and the
+bridge last night."
+
+"Which one is he?" demanded Annette, eagerly, as she emerged from the
+buggy. "Is he g-good-looking, with blue eyes and light hair? Or is he
+b-black and ugly and sort of cross-eyed?"
+
+The judge peered over his glasses quizzically. "Thinking about the
+boys, as usual! Now I want to know what business you have noticing the
+color of a peddler's eyes?"
+
+Annette blushed, but she stood her ground. "All the g-girls noticed
+him. He wasn't an ordinary peddler. He was just as smart and f-funny
+as could be."
+
+"Well, he isn't smart and funny now," said the judge, with a grim
+laugh.
+
+The two men passed up the long avenue and into the house. At the door
+they were met by Mrs. Hollis, whose small angular person breathed
+protest. Her black hair was arranged in symmetrical bands which were
+drawn tightly back from a straight part. When she talked, a
+gold-capped tooth was disclosed on each side of her mouth, giving rise
+to the judge's joke that one was capped to keep the other company,
+since Mrs. Hollis's sense of order and regularity rebelled against one
+eye-tooth of one color and the other of another.
+
+"Good morning, doctor," she said shortly; "there's the door-mat. No,
+don't put your hat there; I'll take it. Isn't this a pretty business
+for Melvy to come bringing a sick tramp up here--on general
+cleaning-day, too?"
+
+"Aren't all days cleaning-days to you, Sue?" asked the judge,
+playfully.
+
+"When you are in the house," she answered sharply. Then she turned to
+the doctor, who was starting up the stairs:
+
+"If this boy is in for a long spell, I want him moved somewhere. I
+can't have my carpets run over and my whole house smelling like a
+hospital."
+
+"Now, Susan," remonstrated the judge, gently, "we can't turn the lad
+out. We've got room and to spare. If he's got the fever, he'll have
+to stay."
+
+"We'll see, we'll see," said the doctor.
+
+But when he tiptoed down from the room above there was no question
+about it.
+
+"Very sick boy," he said, rubbing his hand over his bald head. "If he
+gets better, I might take him over to Mrs. Meech's; he can't be moved
+now."
+
+"Mrs. Meech!" cried Mrs. Hollis, in fine scorn. "Do you think I would
+let him go to that dirty house--and with this fever, too? Why, Mrs.
+Meech's front curtains haven't been washed since Christmas! She and
+the preacher and Martha all sit around with their noses in books, and
+never even know that the water-spout is leaking and the porch needs
+mopping! You can't tell me anything about the Meeches!"
+
+Neither of the men tried to do so; they stood silent in the doorway,
+looking very grave.
+
+"For mercy sake! what is that in the front lot?" exclaimed Mrs.
+Hollis.
+
+The doctor had an uncomfortable premonition, which was promptly
+verified. One of the judge's friskiest colts was circling madly about
+the driveway, while astride of it, in triumph, sat Annette, her dress
+ripped at the belt, her hair flying.
+
+"If she don't need a woman's hand!" exclaimed Mrs. Hollis. "I could
+manage her all right."
+
+The doctor looked from Mrs. Hollis, with her firm, close-shut mouth,
+to the flying figure on the lawn.
+
+"Perhaps," he said, lifting his brows; but he put the odds on Annette.
+
+That night, when Aunt Melvy brought the lamp into the sitting-room,
+she waited nervously near Mrs. Hollis's chair.
+
+"Miss Sue," she ventured presently, "is de cunjers comin' out?"
+
+"The what?"
+
+"De cunjers what dat pore chile's got. I done tried all de spells I
+knowed, but look lak dey didn't do no good."
+
+"He has the fever," said Mrs. Hollis; "and it means a long spell of
+nursing and bother for me."
+
+The judge stirred uncomfortably. "Now, Sue," he remonstrated, "you
+needn't take a bit of bother. Melvy will see to him by day, and I will
+look after him at night."
+
+Mrs. Hollis bit her lip and heroically refrained from expressing her
+mind.
+
+"He's a mighty purty chile," said Aunt Melvy, tentatively.
+
+"He's a common tramp," said Mrs. Hollis.
+
+After supper, arranging a tray with a snowy napkin and a steaming bowl
+of broth, Mrs. Hollis went up to the sick-room. Her first step had
+been to have the patient bathed and combed and made presentable for
+the occupancy of the guest-chamber. It had been with rebellion of
+spirit that she placed him there, but the judge had taken one of those
+infrequent stands which she knew it was useless to resist. She put the
+tray on a table near the big four-poster bed, and leaned over to look
+at the sleeper.
+
+Sandy lay quiet among the pillows, his fair hair tumbled, his lips
+parted. As the light fell on his flushed face he stirred.
+
+"Here's your supper," said Mrs. Hollis, her voice softening in spite
+of herself. He was younger than she had thought. She slipped her arm
+under the pillow and raised his head.
+
+"You must eat," she said kindly.
+
+He looked at her vacantly, then a momentary consciousness flitted over
+his face, a vague realization that he was being cared for. He put up a
+hot hand and gently touched her cheek; then, rallying all his
+strength, he smiled away his debt of gratitude. It was over in a
+moment, and he sank back unconscious.
+
+[Illustration: "He smiled away his debt of gratitude"]
+
+Through the dreary hours of the night Mrs. Hollis sat by the bed,
+nursing him with the aching tenderness that only a childless woman can
+know. Below, in the depths of a big feather-bed, the judge slept in
+peaceful unconcern, disturbing the silence by a series of long, loud,
+and unmelodious snores.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+CONVALESCENCE
+
+
+"Is that the Nelson phaeton going out the road?" asked Mrs. Hollis as
+she peered out through the dining-room window one morning. "I
+shouldn't be a bit surprised if it was Mrs. Nelson making her yearly
+visits, and here my bricks haven't been reddened."
+
+Sandy's heart turned a somersault. He was sitting up for the first
+time, wrapped in blankets and wearing a cap to cover his close-cropped
+head. All through his illness he had been tortured by the thought that
+he had talked of Ruth, though now wild horses could not have dragged
+forth a question concerning her.
+
+"Melvy," continued Mrs. Hollis, as she briskly rubbed the sideboard
+with some unsavory furniture-polish, "if Mrs. Nelson does come here,
+you be sure to put on your white apron before you open the door; and
+for pity sake don't forget the card-tray! You ought to know better
+than to stick out your hand for a lady's calling-card. I told you
+about that last week."
+
+Aunt Melvy paused in her dusting and chuckled: "Lor', honey, dat's
+right! You orter put on airs all de time, wid all de money de judge is
+got. He says to me yisterday, says he, 'Can't you 'suade yer Miss Sue
+not to be cleanin' up so much, an' not to go out in de front yard wid
+dat ole sunbonnet on?'"
+
+"Well, I'd like to know how things would get done if I didn't do
+them," exclaimed Mrs. Hollis, hotly. "I suppose he would like me to
+let things go like the Meeches! The only time I ever saw Mrs. Meech
+work was when she swept the front pavement, and then she made Martha
+walk around behind her and read out loud while she was doing it."
+
+"It's Mr. Meech that's in the yard now," announced Sandy from the
+side window. "He's raking the leaves with one hand and a-reading a
+book with the other."
+
+"I knew it!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "I never saw such doings. They say she
+even leaves the dishes overnight. And yet she can sit on her porch and
+smile at people going by, just like her house was cleaned up. I hate a
+hypocrite."
+
+Sandy had had ample time to watch the Meeches during his long
+convalescence. He had been moved from the spare room to a snug little
+room over the kitchen, which commanded a fine view of the neighbors.
+When the green book got too heavy to hold, or his eyes grew too tired
+to look at the many magazines with which the judge supplied him, he
+would lie still and watch the little drama going on next door.
+
+Mrs. Meech was a large, untidy woman who always gave the impression of
+needing to be tucked up. The end of her gray braid hung out behind one
+ear, her waist hung out of her belt, and even the buttons on her
+shoes hung out of the buttonholes in shameless laziness.
+
+Mr. Meech did not need tucking in; he needed letting out. He seemed to
+have shrunk in the wash of life. In spite of the fact that he was
+three sizes too small for his wife, to begin with, he emphasized it by
+wearing trousers that cleared his shoe-tops and sleeves half-way to
+his elbows. But this was only on week-days, for on Sunday Sandy would
+see him emerge, expand, and flutter forth in an ample suit of shiny
+broadcloth. For Mr. Meech was the pastor of the Hard-Shell Baptist
+Church in Clayton, and if his domestic economy was a matter of open
+gossip, there was no question concerning the fact of his learning. It
+had been the boast of the congregation for years that Judge Hollis was
+the only man in town who was smart enough to understand his sermons.
+When Mr. Meech started out in the morning with a book under his arm
+and one sticking out of each pocket, Sandy would pull up on his elbow
+to watch proceedings. He loved to see fat Mrs. Meech pat the little
+man lovingly on the head and kiss him good-by; he loved to see Martha
+walk with him to the gate and throw kisses after him until he turned
+the curve in the road.
+
+Martha was a pale, thin girl with two long, straight plaits and a
+long, straight dress. She went to school in the morning, and when she
+came home at noon her mother always hurried to meet her and kissed her
+on both cheeks. Sandy had got quite in the habit of watching for her
+at the side window where she came to study. He leaned forward now to
+see if she were there.
+
+"I thought so!" cried Mrs. Hollis, looking over his shoulder. "There
+comes the Nelson phaeton this minute! Melvy, get on your white apron.
+I'll wind up the cuckoo-clock and unlock the parlor door."
+
+"Who is it?" ventured Sandy, with internal tremors.
+
+"Hit's Mrs. Nelson an' her niece, Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy,
+nervously trying to reverse her apron after tying the bow in the
+front. "Dey's big bugs, dey is. Dey is quality, an' no mistake. I
+b'longed to Miss Rufe's grandpaw; he done lef' her all his money, she
+an' Mr. Carter. Poor Mr. Carter! Dey say he ain't got no lungs to
+speak of. Ain't no wonder he's sorter wild like. He takes after his
+grandpaw, my ole mars'. Lor', honey, de mint-juleps jus' nachelly ooze
+outen de pores ob his grandpaw's skin! But Miss Rufe she ain't like
+none ob dem Nelsons; she favors her maw. She's quality inside an'
+out."
+
+A peal of the bell cut short further interesting revelations. Aunt
+Melvy hurried through the hall, leaving doors open behind her. At the
+front door she paused in dismay. Before her stood the Nelsons in
+calling attire, presenting two immaculate cards for her acceptance.
+Too late she remembered her instructions.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd!" she cried in consternation, "ef I ain't done fergit
+dat pan ag'in!"
+
+Sandy, left alone in the dining-room, was listening with every nerve
+a-quiver for the sound of Ruth's voice. The thought that she was here
+under the same roof with him sent the blood bounding through his
+veins. He pulled himself up, and trailing the blanket behind him, made
+his way somewhat unsteadily across the room and up the back stairs.
+
+Behind the door of his room hung the pride of his soul, a new suit of
+clothes, whole, patchless, clean, which the judge had bought him two
+days before. He had sat before it in speechless admiration; he had
+hung it in every possible light to get the full benefit of its beauty;
+he had even in the night placed it on a chair beside the bed, so that
+he could put out his hand in the dark and make sure it was there. For
+it was the first new suit of clothes that he remembered ever to have
+possessed. He had not intended to wear it until Sunday, but the
+psychological moment had arrived.
+
+With trembling fingers and many pauses for rest, he made his toilet.
+He looked in the mirror, and his heart nearly burst with pride. The
+suit, to be sure, hung limp on his gaunt frame, and his shaven head
+gave him the appearance of a shorn lamb, but to Sandy the reflection
+was eminently satisfying. One thing only seemed to be lacking. He
+meditated a moment, then, with some misgiving, picked up a small linen
+doily from the dresser, and carefully folding it, placed it in his
+breast-pocket, with one corner just visible.
+
+Triumphant in mind, if weak in body, he slipped down the back steps,
+skirted Aunt Melvy's domain, and turned the corner of the house just
+as the Nelson phaeton rolled out of the yard. Before he had time to
+give way to utter despair a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon,
+for the phaeton stopped, and there was evidently something the matter.
+Sandy did not wait for it to be remedied. He ran down the road with
+all the speed he could muster.
+
+Near the gate where the little branch crossed the turnpike was a
+slight embankment, and two wheels of the phaeton had slipped over the
+edge and were buried deep in the soft earth. Beside it, sitting
+indignantly in the water, was an irate lady who had evidently
+attempted to get out backward and had taken a sudden and unexpected
+seat. Her countenance was a pure specimen of Gothic architecture; a
+massive pompadour reared itself above two Gothic eyebrows which
+flanked a nose of unquestioned Gothic tendencies. Her mouth, with its
+drooping corners, completed the series of arches, and the whole
+expression was one of aspiring melancholy and injured majesty.
+
+Kneeling at her side, reassuring her and wiping the water from her
+hands, was Ruth Nelson.
+
+"God send you ain't hurt, ma'am!" cried Sandy, arriving breathless.
+
+The girl looked up and shook her head in smiling protest, but the
+Gothic lady promptly suffered a relapse.
+
+"I am--I know I am! Just look at my dress covered with mud, and my
+glove is split. Get my smelling-salts, Ruth!"
+
+Ruth, upon whom the lady was leaning, turned to Sandy.
+
+"Will you hand it to me? It is in the little bag there on the seat."
+
+Sandy rushed to do her bidding. He was rather hazy as to the object of
+his search; but when his fingers touched a round, soft ball he drew it
+forth and hastily presented it to the lady's Roman nose.
+
+She, with closed eyes, was taking deep whiffs when a laugh startled
+her.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Clara, it's your powder-puff!" cried Ruth, unable to
+restrain her mirth.
+
+Mrs. Nelson rose with as much dignity as her draggled condition would
+permit. "You'd better get me home," she said solemnly. "I may be
+internally injured." She turned to Sandy. "Boy, can't you get that
+phaeton back on the road?"
+
+Sandy, whose chagrin over his blunder had sent him to the background,
+came promptly forward. Seizing the wheel, he made several ineffectual
+efforts to lift it back to the road.
+
+"It is not moving an inch!" announced the mournful voice from above.
+"Can't you take hold of it nearer the back, and exert a little more
+strength?"
+
+Sandy bit his lip and shot a swift glance at Ruth. She was still
+smiling. With savage determination he fell upon the wheel as if it had
+been a mortal foe; he pushed and shoved and pulled, and finally, with
+a rally of all his strength, he went on his knees in the mud and
+lifted the phaeton back on the road.
+
+Then came a collapse, and he leaned against the nearest tree and
+struggled with the deadly faintness that was stealing over him.
+
+"Why--why, you are the boy who was sick!" cried Ruth, in dismay.
+
+Sandy, white and trembling, shook his head protestingly. "It's me
+bellows that's rocky," he explained between gasps.
+
+Mrs. Nelson rustled back into the phaeton, and taking a piece of money
+from her purse, held it out to him.
+
+"That will amply repay you," she said.
+
+Sandy flushed to the roots of his close-cropped hair. A tip,
+heretofore a gift of the gods, had suddenly become an insult. Angry,
+impetuous words rushed to his lips, and he took a step forward. Then
+he was aware of a sudden change in the girl, who had just stepped into
+the phaeton. She shot a quick, indignant look at her aunt, then turned
+around and smiled a good-by to him.
+
+He lifted his cap and said, "I thank ye." But it was not to Mrs.
+Nelson, who still held the money as they drove out of the avenue.
+
+Sandy went wearily back to the house. He had made his first trial in
+behalf of his lady fair, but his soul knew no elation. His beautiful
+new armor had sustained irreparable injury, and his vanity had
+received a mortal wound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+AUNT MELVY AS A SOOTHSAYER
+
+
+It was a crisp afternoon in late October. The road leading west from
+Clayton ran the gantlet of fiery maples and sumac until it reached the
+barren hillside below "Who'd 'a' Thought It." The little cabin clung
+to the side of the steep slope like a bit of fungus to the trunk of a
+tree.
+
+In the doorway sat three girls, one tall and dark, one plump and fair,
+and the third straight and thin. They were anxiously awaiting the
+revelation of the future as disclosed by Aunt Melvy's far-famed
+tea-leaves. The prophetess kept them company while waiting for the
+water to boil.
+
+"He sutenly is a peart boy," she was saying. "De jedge done start him
+in plumb at de foot up at de 'cademy, an' dey tell me he's ketchin' up
+right along."
+
+"Wasn't it g-grand in Judge Hollis to send him to school?" said
+Annette. "Of course he's going to work for him b-between times. They
+say even Mrs. Hollis is glad he is going to stay."
+
+"'Co'se she is," said Aunt Melvy; "dere nebber was nobody come it over
+Miss Sue lak he done."
+
+"Father says he is very quick," ventured Martha Meech, a faint color
+coming to her dull cheek at this unusual opportunity of descanting
+upon such an absorbing subject. "Father told Judge Hollis he would
+help him with his lessons, and that he thought it would be only a
+little while before he was up with the other boys."
+
+"Dad says he's a d-dandy," cried Annette. "And isn't it grand he's
+going to be put on the ball team and the glee club!"
+
+Ruth rose to break a branch laden with crimson maple-leaves. "Was he
+ever here before?" she asked in puzzled tones. "I have seen him
+somewhere, and I can't think where."
+
+"Well, I'd never f-forget him," said Annette. "He's got the jolliest
+face I ever saw. M-Martha says he can jump that high fence b-back of
+the Hollises' without touching it. I d-drove dad's buggy clear up over
+the curbstone yesterday, so he would come to the r-rescue, and he
+swung on to old B-Baldy's neck like he had been a race-horse."
+
+"But you don't know him," protested Ruth. "And, besides, he was--he
+was a peddler."
+
+"I don't care if he was," said Annette. "And if I don't know him, it's
+no sign I am not g-going to."
+
+Aunt Melvy chuckled as she rose to encourage the fire with a pair of
+squeaking old bellows.
+
+Martha looked about the room curiously. "Can you really tell what's
+going to happen?" she asked timidly.
+
+"Indeed she can," said Annette. "She told Jane Lewis that she was
+g-going to have some g-good luck, and the v-very next week her aunt
+died and left her a turquoise-ring!"
+
+"Yas, chile," said Aunt Melvy, bending over the fire to light her
+pipe; "I been habin' divisions for gwine on five year. Dat's what made
+me think I wuz gwine git religion; but hit ain't come yit--not yit.
+I'm a mourner an' a seeker." Her pipe dropped unheeded, and she gazed
+with fixed eyes out of the window.
+
+"Tell us about your visions," demanded Annette.
+
+"Well," said Aunt Melvy, "de fust I knowed about it wuz de lizards in
+my legs. I could feel 'em jus' as plain as day, dese here little green
+lizards a-runnin' round inside my legs. I tole de doctor 'bout hit,
+Miss Nettie; but he said 't warn't nothin' but de fidgits. I knowed
+better 'n he did dat time. Dat night I had a division, an' de dream
+say, 'Put on yer purple mournin'-dress an' set wid yer feet in a
+barrel ob b'ilin' water till de smoke comes down de chimbly.' An' so
+I done, a-settin' up dere on dat chist o' drawers all night, wid my
+purple mournin'-dress on an' my feet in de b'ilin' water, an' de
+lizards run away so fur dat dey ain't even stopped yit."
+
+"Aunt Melvy, do you tell fortunes by palmistry?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Yas'm; I reckon dat's what you call hit. I tells by de tea-leaves.
+Lor', Miss Rufe, you sutenly put me in min' o' yer grandmaw! She
+kerried her haid up in de air jus' lak you do, an' she wuz jus' as
+putty as you is, too. We libed in de ole plantation what's done burned
+down now, an' I lubed my missus--I sutenly did. When my ole man fust
+come here from de country I nebber seen sech a fool. He didn't know no
+more 'bout courtin' dan nothin'; but I wuz better qualified. I jus'
+tole ole miss how 't wuz, an' she fixed up de weddin'. I nebber will
+fergit de day we walk ober de plantation an' say we wuz married.
+George he had on a brand-new pair pants dat cost two hundred an'
+sixty-four dollars in Confederate money."
+
+"Isn't the water b-boiling yet?" asked Annette, impatiently.
+
+"So 't is, so 't is," said Aunt Melvy, lifting the kettle from the
+crane. She dropped a few tea-leaves in three china cups, and then with
+great solemnity and occasional guttural ejaculations poured the water
+over them.
+
+Before the last cup was filled, Annette, with a wry face, had drained
+the contents of hers and held it out to Aunt Melvy.
+
+"There are my leaves. If they don't tell about a lover with b-blue
+eyes and an Irish accent, I'll never b-believe them."
+
+Aunt Melvy bent over the cup, and her sides shook. "You gwine be a
+farmer's wife," she said, chuckling at the girl's grimace. "You gwine
+raise chickens an' chillun."
+
+"Ugh!" said Annette as the other girls laughed; "are his eyes b-blue?"
+
+Aunt Melvy pondered over the leaves. "Well, now, 'pears to me he's
+sorter dark-complected an' fat, like Mr. Sid Gray," she said.
+
+"Never!" declared Annette. "I loathe Sid."
+
+"Tell my future!" cried Martha, pushing her cup forward eagerly.
+
+"Dey ain't none!" cried Aunt Melvy, aghast, as she saw the few broken
+leaves in the bottom of the cup. "You done drinked up yer fortune.
+Dat's de sign ob early death. I gwine fix you a good-luck bag; dey say
+ef you carry it all de time, hit's a cross-sign ag'in' death."
+
+"But can't you tell me anything?" persisted Martha.
+
+"Dey ain't nothin' to tell," repeated Aunt Melvy, "'cep'n' to warn you
+to carry dat good-luck bag all de time."
+
+"Now, mine," said Ruth, with an incredulous but curious smile.
+
+For several moments Aunt Melvy bent over the cup in deep
+consideration, and then she rose and took it to the window, with
+fearsome, anxious looks at Ruth meanwhile. Once or twice she made a
+sign with her fingers, and frowned anxiously.
+
+"What is it, Aunt Melvy?" Ruth demanded. "Am I going to be an old
+maid?"
+
+"'T ain't no time to joke, chile," whispered Aunt Melvy, all the
+superstition of her race embodied in her trembling figure. "What I
+see, I see. Hit's de galluses what I see in de bottom ob yer cup!"
+
+"Do you m-mean suspenders?" laughed Annette.
+
+Aunt Melvy did, not hear her; she was looking over the cup into space,
+swaying and moaning.
+
+"To t'ink ob my ole missus' gran'chile bein' mixed up wif a gallus lak
+dey hang de niggers on! But hit's dere, jus' as plain as day, de two
+poles an' de cross-beam."
+
+Ruth laughed as she looked into the cup.
+
+"Is it for me?"
+
+"Don't know, honey; de signs don't p'int to no one person: but hit's
+in yer life, an' de shadow rests ag'in' you."
+
+By this time Martha was at the door, urging the others to hurry. Her
+face was pale and her eyes were troubled. Ruth saw her nervousness and
+slipped her arm about her. "It's all in fun," she whispered.
+
+"Of course," said Annette. "You m-mustn't mind her foolishness.
+Besides, I g-got the worst of it. I'd rather die young or be hanged,
+any day, than to m-marry Sid Gray."
+
+Aunt Melvy followed them to the door, shaking her head. "I'se gwine
+make you chillun some good-luck bags. De fust time de new moon holds
+water I'se sholy gwine fix 'em. 'T ain't safe not to mind de signs; 't
+ain't safe."
+
+And with muttered warnings she watched them until they were lost to
+view behind the hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+TRANSITION
+
+
+The change from the road to the school-room was not without many a
+struggle on Sandy's part. The new life, the new customs, and the
+strange language, were baffling.
+
+The day after the accident in the road, Mrs. Hollis had sent him to
+inquire how old Mrs. Nelson was, and he had returned with the
+astonishing report that she was sixty-one.
+
+"But you didn't ask her age?" cried Mrs. Hollis, horrified.
+
+Sandy looked perplexed. "I said what ye bid me," he declared.
+
+Everything he did, in fact, seemed to be wrong; and everything he
+said, to bring a smile. He confided many a woe to Aunt Melvy as he
+sat on the kitchen steps in the evenings.
+
+"Hit's de green rubbin' off," she assured him sympathetically. "De
+same ones dat laugh at you now will be takin' off dey hats to you some
+day."
+
+"Oh, it ain't the guyin' I mind," said Sandy; "it's me wooden head.
+Them little shavers that can't see a hole in a ladder can beat me
+figurin'."
+
+"You jus' keep on axin' questions," advised Aunt Melvy. "Dat's what I
+always tole Rachael. Rachael's dat yaller gal up to Mrs. Nelson's. I
+done raise her, an' she ain't a bit o'count. I use' ter say, 'You fool
+nigger, how you ebber gwine learn nothin' effen you don't ax
+questions?' An' she'd stick out her mouth an' say, 'Umph, umph; you
+don't ketch me lettin' de white folks know how much sense I ain't
+got.' Den she'd put on a white dress an' a white sunbonnet an' go
+switchin' up de street, lookin' jus' lak a fly in a glass ob
+buttermilk."
+
+"It's the mixed-up things that bother me," said Sandy. "Mr. Moseley
+was telling of us to-day how ye lost a day out of the week when ye
+went round the world one way, and gained a day when ye went round the
+other."
+
+Aunt Melvy paused with the tea-towel in her hand. "Lost a day outen de
+week? Where'd he say you lost it at?"
+
+Sandy shook his head in perplexity.
+
+"Dat's plumb foolishness," said Aunt Melvy, indignantly. "I'se
+s'prised at Mr. Moseley, I sholy is. Dey sorter gits notions, dem
+teachers does. When dey tells you stuff lak dat, honey, don't you pay
+'em no mind."
+
+But Sandy did "pay 'em mind." He followed Aunt Melvy's advice about
+asking questions, and wrestled with each new proposition until he
+mastered it. It did not take him long, moreover, to distinguish the
+difference between himself and those about him. The words and phrases
+that had passed current on the street seemed to ring false here. He
+watched the judge covertly and took notes.
+
+His progress at the academy was a singular succession of triumphs and
+failures. His natural quickness, together with an enthusiastic
+ambition to get on, enabled him soon to take his place among the boys
+of his own age. But a superabundance of high spirits and an inordinate
+love of fun caused many a dark entry on the debit side of his school
+ledger. There were many times when he exasperated the judge to the
+limit of endurance, for he was reckless and impulsive, charged to the
+exploding-point with vitality, and ever and always the victim of his
+last caprice; but when it came to the final issue, and the judge put a
+question fairly before him, the boy was always on the side of right,
+even though it proved him guilty.
+
+At first Mrs. Hollis had been strongly opposed to his remaining on the
+farm, but she soon became silent on the subject. It was a heretofore
+unknown luxury to have the outside work promptly and efficiently
+attended to. He possessed "the easy grace that makes a joke of toil";
+and when he despatched his various chores and did even more than was
+required of him, Mrs. Hollis capitulated.
+
+It was something more, however, than his ability and service that won
+her. The affection of the world, which seemed to eddy around her, as a
+rule, found an exception in Sandy. His big, exuberant nature made no
+distinction: he swept over her, sharp edges and all; he teased her,
+coaxed her, petted her, laughed at her, turned her tirades with a bit
+of blarney, and in the end won her in spite of herself.
+
+"He's ketchin' on," reported Aunt Melvy, confidently. "I heared him
+puttin' on airs in his talk. When dey stops talkin' nachel, den I
+knows dey are learnin' somethin'."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+WATERLOO
+
+
+It was not until three years had passed and Sandy had reached his
+junior year that his real achievement was put to the test.
+
+After that harrowing experience in the Hollis driveway, he had seen
+Ruth Nelson but twice. She had spent the winters at boarding-school,
+and in the summers she traveled with her aunt. She was still the
+divinity for whom he shaped his end, the compass that always brought
+him back to the straight course. He looked upon her possible
+recognition and friendship as a man looks upon his reward in heaven.
+In the meantime he suffered himself to be consoled by less distant
+joys.
+
+The greatest spur he had to study was Martha Meech. She thought he
+was a genius; and while he found it a bit irksome to live up to his
+reputation, he made an honest effort to deserve it.
+
+One spring afternoon the two were under the apple-trees, with their
+books before them. The years that had lifted Sandy forward toward
+vigor and strength and manhood had swept over Martha relentlessly,
+beating out her frail strength, and leaving her weaker to combat each
+incoming tide. Her straight, straw-colored hair lay smooth about her
+delicate face, and in her eyes was the strained look of one who seeks
+but is destined never to attain.
+
+"Let's go over the Latin once more," she was saying patiently, "just
+to make sure you understand."
+
+"Devil a bit more!" cried Sandy, jumping up from where he lay in the
+grass and tossing the book lightly from her hand; "it's the sin and
+the shame to keep you poking in books, now the spring is here.
+Martha, do you mind the sound of the wind in the tree-tops?"
+
+She nodded, and he went on:
+
+"Does it put strange words in your heart that you can't even think out
+in your head? If I could be translating the wind and the river, I'd
+never be minding the Latin again."
+
+Martha looked at him half timidly.
+
+"Sometimes, do you know, I almost think you are a poet, Sandy; you are
+always thinking the things the poets write about."
+
+"Do you, now, true?" he asked seriously, dropping down on the grass
+beside her. Then he laughed. "You'll be having me writing rhymes, now,
+in a minute."
+
+"Why not?" she urged.
+
+"I must stick to my course," he said. "I'd never be a real one. They
+work for the work's sake, and I work for the praise. If I win the
+scholarship, it'll be because you want me to, Martha; if I come to be
+a lawyer, it's because it's the wish of the judge's heart; and if I
+win out in the end, it will be for the love of some one--some one who
+cares more for that than for anything else in the world."
+
+She dropped her eyes, while he watched the flight of a song-bird as it
+wheeled about overhead. Presently she opened an old portfolio and took
+from it a little sketch.
+
+"I have been trying to get up courage to show it to you all week," she
+said, with a deprecatory laugh.
+
+"It's the river," cried Sandy, "just at sundown, when the shadows are
+slipping away from the bank! Martha, why didn't ye tell me? Are there
+more?"
+
+He ransacked the portfolio, drawing out sketch after sketch and
+exclaiming over each. They were crude little efforts, faulty in
+drawing and in color; but the spirit was there, and Sandy had a vague
+instinct for the essence of things.
+
+"I believe you're the real kind, Martha. They're crooked a bit, but
+they've got the feel of the woods in 'em, all right. I can just hear
+the water going over those stones."
+
+Martha's eyes glowed at the praise. For a year she had reached
+forward blindly toward some outlet for her cramped, limited existence,
+and suddenly a way seemed open toward the light.
+
+"I wanted to learn how before I showed you," she said. "I am never
+going to show them to any one but you and mother and father."
+
+"But you must go somewhere to study," cried Sandy. "It's a great
+artist you'll be some day."
+
+She shook her head. "It's not for me, Sandy. I'll always be like a
+little beggar girl that peeps through the fence into a beautiful
+garden. I know all the wonderful things are there, but I'll never get
+to them."
+
+"But ye will," cried Sandy, hot with sympathy. "I'll be making money
+some day, and I'll send ye to the finest master in the country; and
+you will be getting well and strong, and we'll go--"
+
+Mr. Meech, shuffling up the walk toward them, interrupted. "Studying
+for the examination, eh? That's right, my boy. The judge tells me
+that you have a good chance to win the scholarship."
+
+"Did he, now?" said Sandy, with shameless pleasure; "and you, Mr.
+Meech, do ye think the same?"
+
+"I certainly do," said Mr. Meech. "Anybody that can accomplish the
+work you do at home, and hold your record at the academy, stands an
+excellent chance."
+
+Sandy thought so, too, but he tried to be modest. "If it'll be in me,
+it will come out," he said with suppressed triumph as he swung his
+books across his shoulder and started home.
+
+Martha's eyes followed him wistfully, and she hoped for a backward
+look before he turned in at the door. But he was absorbed in sailing a
+broomstick across Aunt Melvy's pathway, causing her to drop her
+basket and start after him in hot pursuit.
+
+That evening the judge glanced across the table with great
+satisfaction at Sandy, who was apparently buried in his Vergil. The
+boy, after all, was a student; he was justifying the money and time
+that had been spent upon him; he was proving a credit to his
+benefactor's judgment and to his knowledge of human nature.
+
+"Would ye mind telling me a word that rhymes with lance?" broke in
+Sandy after an hour of absorbed concentration.
+
+"Pants," suggested the judge. But he woke up in the night to wonder
+again what part of Vergil Sandy had been studying.
+
+"How about the scholarship?" he asked the next day of Mr. Moseley, the
+principal of the academy.
+
+Mr. Moseley pursed his lips and considered the matter ponderously. He
+regarded it as ill befitting an instructor of youth to dispose of any
+subject in words of less than three syllables.
+
+"Your protege, Judge Hollis, is an ambiguous proposition. He possesses
+invention and originality, but he is sadly lacking in sustained
+concentration."
+
+"But if he studies," persisted the judge, "you think he may win it?"
+
+Mr. Moseley wrinkled his brows and looked as if he were solving a
+problem in Euclid. "Probably," he admitted; "but there is a most
+insidious enemy with which he has to contend."
+
+"An enemy?" repeated the judge, anxiously.
+
+"My dear sir," said Mr. Moseley, sinking his voice to husky solemnity,
+"the boy is stung by the tarantula of athletics!"
+
+It was all too true. The Ambiguous Proposition had found, soon after
+reaching Clayton, that base-ball was what he had been waiting for all
+his life. It was what he had been born for, what he had crossed the
+ocean for, and what he would gladly have died for.
+
+There could have been no surer proof of his growing power of
+concentration than that he kept a firm grasp on his academy work
+during these trying days. It was a hand-to-hand fight with the great
+mass of knowledge that had been accumulating at such a cruel rate
+during the years he had spent out of school. He was making gallant
+progress when a catastrophe occurred.
+
+The great ball game of the season, which was to be played in Lexington
+between the Clayton team and the Lexington nine, was set for June 2.
+And June 2 was the day which cruel fate--masked as the board of
+trustees--had set for the academy examinations. Sandy was the only
+member of the team who attended the academy, and upon him alone rested
+the full agony of renunciation. His disappointment was so utterly
+crushing that it affected the whole family.
+
+"Couldn't they postpone the game?" asked the judge.
+
+"It was the second that was the only day the Lexingtons could play,"
+said Sandy, in black despair. "And to think of me sitting in the
+bloomin' old school-room while Sid Gray loses the game in me place!"
+
+For a week before the great event he lived in retirement. The one
+topic of conversation in town was the ball game, and he found the
+strain too great to be borne. The team was to go to Lexington on the
+noon train with a mighty company of loyal followers. Every boy and
+girl who could meet the modest expenses was going, save the
+unfortunate victims of the junior class at the academy. Annette Fenton
+had even had a dress made in the Clayton colors.
+
+As Sandy went into town on the important day, his heart was like a
+rock in his breast. There was glorious sunshine everywhere, and a cool
+little undercurrent of breezes stirred every leaf into a tiny banner
+of victory. Up in the square, Johnson's colored band was having a
+final rehearsal, while on the court-house steps the team, glorious in
+new uniforms, were excitedly discussing the plan of campaign. Little
+boys shouted, and old boys left their stores to come out and give a
+bit of advice or encouragement to the waiting warriors. Maidens in
+crisp lawn dresses and flying ribbons fluttered about in a tremor of
+anticipation.
+
+Sandy Kilday, with his cap pulled over his eyes, went up Back street.
+If he could not make the devil get behind him, he at least could get
+behind the devil. Without a moment's hesitation he would have given
+ten years of sober middle-age life for that one glorious day of youth
+on the Lexington diamond, with the victory to be fought for, and the
+grand stand to be won.
+
+He tried not to keep step with the music--he even tried to think of
+quadratic equations--as he marched heroically on to the academy. His
+was the face of a Christian martyr relinquishing life for a good but
+hopeless cause.
+
+Late that afternoon Judge Hollis left his office and walked around to
+the academy. He had sympathized fully with Sandy, and wanted, if
+possible, to find out the result of the examination before going home.
+The report of the scholarship won would reconcile him to his
+disappointment.
+
+At the academy gate he met Mr. Moseley, who greeted him with a queer
+smile. They both asked the same question:
+
+"Where's Sandy?"
+
+As if in answer, there came a mighty shout from the street leading
+down to the depot. Turning, they saw a cheering, hilarious crowd;
+bright-flowered hats flashed among college caps, while shrill girlish
+voices rang out with the manly ones. Carried high in the air on the
+shoulders of a dozen boys, radiant with praise and success, sat the
+delinquent Sandy, and the tumult below resolved itself into one mighty
+cheer:
+
+    "Kilday, Kilday!
+    Won the day.
+    Hooray!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+"THE LIGHT THAT LIES"
+
+
+During the summer Sandy worked faithfully to make amends for his
+failure to win the scholarship. He had meekly accepted the torrent of
+abuse which Mrs. Hollis poured forth, and the open disapproval shown
+by the Meeches; he had winced under Martha's unspoken reproaches, and
+groaned over the judge's quiet disappointment.
+
+"You see, my boy," the judge said one day when they were alone, "I had
+set my heart on taking you into the office after next year. I had
+counted on the scholarship to put you through your last year at the
+academy."
+
+"It was the fool I was," cried Sandy, in deep contrition, "but if
+ye'll trust me the one time more, may I die in me traces if I ever
+stir out of them!"
+
+So sincere was his desire to make amends that he asked to read law
+with the judge in the evenings after his work was done. Nothing could
+have pleased the judge more; he sat with his back to the lamp and his
+feet on the window-sill, expounding polemics to his heart's desire.
+
+Sandy sat in the shadow and whittled. Sometimes he did not listen at
+all, but when he did, it was with an intensity of attention, an utter
+absorption in the subject, that carried him straight to the heart of
+the matter. Meanwhile he was unconsciously receiving a life-imprint of
+the old judge's native nobility.
+
+From the first summer Sandy had held a good position at the
+post-office. His first earnings had gone to a round little surgeon on
+board the steamship _America_. But since then his funds had run rather
+low. What he did not lend he contributed, and the result was a chronic
+state of bankruptcy.
+
+"You must be careful with your earnings," the judge warned. "It is
+not easy to live within an income."
+
+"Easier within it than without it, sir," Sandy answered from deep
+experience.
+
+After the Lexington episode Sandy had shunned Martha somewhat; when he
+did go to see her, he found she was sick in bed.
+
+"She never was strong," said Mrs. Meech, sitting limp and disconsolate
+on the porch. "Mr. Meech and I never thought to keep her this long.
+The doctor says it's the beginning of the end. She's so patient it's
+enough to break your heart."
+
+Sandy went without his dinner that day, and tramped to town and back,
+in the glare of the noon sun, to get her a basket of fruit. Then he
+wrote her a letter so full of affection and sympathy that it brought
+the tears to his own eyes as he wrote. He took the basket with the
+note and left them at her door, after which he promptly forgot all
+about her. For his whole purpose in life these days, aside from
+assisting the government in the distribution of mail and reading a
+musty old volume of Blackstone, was learning to dance.
+
+In ten days was the opening of the county fair, and Sandy had received
+an invitation to be present at the fair hop, which was the social
+excitement of the season. It was to be his introduction into society,
+and he was determined to acquit himself with credit.
+
+He assiduously practised the two-step in the back room of the
+post-office when the other clerk was out for lunch; he tried elaborate
+and ornate bows upon Aunt Melvy, who considered even the mildest "reel
+chune" a direct communication from the devil. The moment the
+post-office closed he hastened to Dr. Fenton's, where Annette was
+taking him through a course of private lessons.
+
+Dr. Fenton's house was situated immediately upon the street. Opening
+the door, one passed into a small square hall where the Confederate
+flag hung above a life-size portrait of General Lee. On every side
+were old muskets and rusty swords, large pictures of decisive
+battles, and maps of the siege of Vicksburg and the battle of Bull
+Run. In the midst of this warlike atmosphere sat the unreconstructed
+little doctor, wearing his gray uniform and his gray felt hat, which
+he removed only when he ate and slept.
+
+Here he ostensibly held office hours, but in reality he was doing
+sentry duty. His real business in life was keeping up with Annette,
+and his diversion was in the constant perusal of a slim sheet known as
+"The Confederate Veteran."
+
+It was Sandy's privilege to pass the lines unchallenged. In fact, the
+doctor's strict surveillance diminished, and he was occasionally
+guilty of napping at the post when Sandy was with Annette.
+
+"Come in, come in," he said one day. "Just looking over the 'Veteran.'
+Ever hear of Sam Davis? Greatest hero South ever knew! That's his
+picture. Wasn't afraid of any damned Yankee that ever pulled a
+trigger."
+
+"Was he a rebel?" asked the unfortunate Sandy.
+
+The doctor swelled with indignation. "He was a Confederate, sir! I
+never knew a rebel."
+
+"It was the Confederates that wore the gray?" asked Sandy, trying to
+cover his blunder.
+
+"They did," said the doctor. "I put it on at nineteen, and I'll be
+buried in it. Yes, sir; and my hat. Wouldn't wear blue for a farm.
+Hate the sight of it so, that I might shoot myself by mistake. Ever
+look over these maps? This was the battle of--"
+
+A door opened and a light head was thrust out.
+
+"Now, d-dad, you hush this minute! You've told him that over and over.
+Sandy's my company. Come in here, Sandy."
+
+A few moments later there was a moving of chairs, and Annette's voice
+was counting, "One, two, three; one, two, three," while Sandy went
+through violent contortions in his efforts to waltz. He had his
+tongue firmly between his teeth and his eyes fixed on vacancy as he
+revolved in furniture--destroying circles about the small parlor.
+
+"That isn't right," cried Annette. "You've lost the time. You d-dance
+with the chair, Sandy, and I'll p-play the p-piano."
+
+"No, you don't!" he cried. "I'll dance with you and put the chair at
+the piano, but I'll dance with no chair."
+
+Annette sank, laughing and exhausted, upon the sofa and looked up at
+him hopelessly. Her hair had tumbled down, making her look more like a
+child than ever.
+
+"You are so b-big," she said; "and you've got so m-many feet!"
+
+"The more of me to love ye."
+
+"I wonder if you d-do?" She put her chin on her palms, looking at him
+sidewise.
+
+"Don't ye do that again!" he cried. "Haven't I passed ye the warning
+never to look at me when you fix your mouth like that?"
+
+She tried to call him a goose, though she knew that _g_'s were fatal.
+
+A moment later she sat at one end of the sofa in pretended dudgeon,
+while Sandy tried to make his peace from the other.
+
+"May the lightning strike me dead if I ever do it again without the
+asking! I'll be good now--honest to goodness, Nettie. I'll shut me
+eyes when you take the hurdles, and be blind to temptation. Won't ye
+be putting me on about the hop now, and what I must do?"
+
+Annette counted her fraternity pins and tried to look severe. She used
+them in lieu of scalps, and they encircled her neck, fastened her
+belt, and on state occasions even adorned her shoe-buckles.
+
+"Well," she at last said, "to b-begin with, you must be nice to
+everyb-body. You mustn't sit out more than one d-dance with one
+g-girl, and you must b-break in on every dance I'm not sitting out."
+
+"Break in? Sit out?" repeated Sandy, realizing that the intricacies
+of society are manifold.
+
+"Of course," said his mentor. "Whenever you see the g-girl you like
+dancing with any one else, you just p-put your hand on the man's
+shoulder, and then she d-dances with you."
+
+"And will they all stop for me?" cried Sandy, not understanding at all
+why he should have the preference.
+
+"Surely," said Annette. "And sitting out is when you like a girl so
+m-much that you would rather take her away to some quiet little corner
+and talk to her than to d-dance with her."
+
+"That'll never be me," cried Sandy--"not while the band plays."
+
+"Shall we try it again?" she asked; and with much scoffing and
+scolding on her part, and eloquent apologies and violent exertion on
+his, they struggled onward toward success.
+
+In the midst of the lesson there was a low whistle at the side
+window. Annette dropped Sandy's hands and put her finger to her lips.
+
+"It's Carter," she whispered. "D-dad doesn't allow him to come here."
+
+"Little's the wonder," grumbled Sandy.
+
+Annette's eyes were sparkling at the prospect of forbidden fruit. She
+tiptoed to the window and opened the shutter a few inches.
+
+At the opening Carter's face appeared. It was a pale, delicate face,
+over-sensitive, over-refined, with the stamp of weakness on every
+feature. His restless, nervous eyes were slightly bloodshot, and there
+was a constant twitching about his lips. But as he pushed back the
+shutter and leaned carelessly against the sill, there was an easy
+grace in his figure and a devil-may-care light in his eyes that would
+have stirred the heart of a maiden less susceptible than the one who
+smiled upon him from between the muslin curtains.
+
+He laughed lightly as he caught at a flying lock of her hair.
+
+"You little coward! Why didn't you meet me?"
+
+She frowned significantly and made warning gestures toward the
+interior of the room.
+
+At the far window, standing with his back to them, was Mr. Sandy
+Kilday. He was engaged in a fierce encounter with an unnamed monster
+whose eyes were green. During his pauses for breath he composed a few
+comprehensive and scathing remarks which he intended to bestow upon
+Miss Fenton at his earliest convenience. Fickleness was a thing not to
+be tolerated. She had confessed her preference for him over all
+others; she must and should prove it. Just when his indignation had
+reached the exploding-point, he heard his name called.
+
+"Sandy," cried Annette, "what do you think? Ruth is coming home!
+Carter is on his way to the d-depot to meet her now. She's been gone
+nearly a year. I never was so crazy to see anyb-body in all my life."
+
+Sandy wheeled about. "Which depot?" he cried excitedly; and without
+apologies or farewell he dashed out of the house and down the street.
+
+When the Pullman train came into the Clayton station, he was leaning
+against a truck in a pose of studied indifference. Out of the tail of
+his eye he watched the passengers alight.
+
+There were the usual fat women and thin men, tired women with
+children, and old women with baskets, but no sign of a small girl with
+curls hanging down her back and dresses to her shoe-tops.
+
+Suddenly he caught his breath. Standing in the car door, like a saint
+in a niche, was a radiant figure in a blue traveling-suit, with a bit
+of blue veil floating airily from her hat brim. She was not the little
+girl he was looking for, but he transferred his devotion at a bound;
+for long skirts and tucked-up curls rendered her tenfold more
+worshipful than before.
+
+He watched her descend from her pedestal, bestow an affectionate kiss
+upon her brother, then look eagerly around for other familiar faces.
+In one heart-suspending instant her eyes met his, she hesitated in
+confusion, then blushed and bowed.
+
+Sandy reeled home in utter intoxication of spirit. Even the town pump
+wore a halo of glorified rosy mist.
+
+At the gate he met Mrs. Hollis returning from a funeral. With a sudden
+descent from his ethereal mood he pounced upon her and, in spite of
+violent protestations, danced her madly down the walk and deposited
+her breathless upon the milk-bench.
+
+"He's getting worse all the time," she complained to Aunt Melvy, who
+had watched the performance with great glee.
+
+"Yas,'m," said Aunt Melvy, with a fond look at his retreating figure.
+"He's jus' like a' Irish potato: when he ain't powerful cold, he's
+powerful hot."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+ANTICIPATION
+
+
+The day before the fair Sandy employed a substitute at the
+post-office, in order to give the entire day to preparation for the
+festivities to come.
+
+Early in the morning he went to town, where, after much consultation
+and many changes of mind, he purchased a suit of clothes. Then he
+rented the town dress-suit, to the chagrin of three other boys who had
+each counted upon it for the coming hop.
+
+With the precious burden under his arm, Sandy hastened home. He spread
+the two coats on the bed, placing a white shirt inside each, and a
+necktie about each collar. Then he stood back and admired.
+
+"It's meself I can see in them both this minute!" he exclaimed with
+delight.
+
+His shoes were polished until they were resplendent, but they lost
+much of their glory during subsequent practising of steps before the
+mirror. He even brushed and cleaned his old clothes, for he foresaw
+the pain of laying aside the raiment of Solomon for dingy every-day
+garments.
+
+Toward noon he went down-stairs to continue his zealous efforts in the
+kitchen. This met with Aunt Melvy's instant disapproval.
+
+"For mercy sake, git out ob my way!" she cried, as she squeezed past
+the ironing-board to get to the stove. "I'll press yer pants, ef
+you'll jus' take yourself outen de kitchen. Be sure don't burn 'em?
+Look a-heah, chile; I was pressin' pants 'fore yer paw was wearin'
+'em!"
+
+Aunt Melvy's temper was a thing not to be trifled with when a
+"protracted meeting" was in session. For years she had been the black
+sheep in the spiritual fold. Her earnest desire to get religion and
+the untiring efforts of the exhorters had alike proved futile. Year
+after year she sat on the mourners' bench, seeking the light and
+failing each time to "come th'u'."
+
+This discouraging condition of affairs sorely afflicted her, and
+produced a kind of equinoctial agitation in the Hollis kitchen.
+
+Sandy went on into the dining-room, but he found no welcome there.
+Mrs. Hollis was submerged in pastry. The county fair was her one
+dissipation, and her highest ambition was to take premiums. Every year
+she sent forth battalions of cakes, pies, sweet pickles, beaten
+biscuit, crocheted doilies, and crazy-quilts to capture the blue
+ribbon.
+
+"Don't put the window up!" she warned Sandy. "I know it's stifling,
+but I can't have the dust coming in. Why don't you go on in the
+house?"
+
+Mrs. Hollis always spoke of the kitchen and dining-room as if they
+were not a part of the house.
+
+"Can't ye tell me something that's good for the sunburn?" asked
+Sandy, anxiously. "It's a dressed-up shooting-cracker I'll be
+resembling the morrow, in spite of me fine clothes."
+
+"Buttermilk and lemon-juice," recommended Mrs. Hollis, as she placed
+the last marshmallow on the roof of a four-story cake.
+
+Sandy would have endured any discomfort that day in order to add one
+charm to his personal appearance. He used so many lemons there were
+none left for the judge's lemonade when he came home for dinner.
+
+"Just home from the post-office?" he asked when he saw Sandy enter the
+dining-room with his hat on.
+
+"Jimmy Reed's doing my work to-day," Sandy said apologetically. "And
+if you please, sir, I'll be keeping my hat on. I have just washed my
+hair, and I want it to dry straight."
+
+The judge looked at the suspicious turn of the thick locks around the
+brim of the stiff hat and smiled.
+
+"Vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas," he quoted. "How many pages of
+Blackstone to-day?"
+
+Sandy made a wry face and winked at Mrs. Hollis, but she betrayed him.
+
+"He has been primping since sun-up," she said. "Anybody would think he
+was going to get married."
+
+"Sweet good luck if I was!" cried Sandy, gaily.
+
+The judge put down his fork and laid his hand on Sandy's arm. "You
+mustn't neglect the learning, Sandy. You've made fine progress, and
+I'm proud of you. You've worked your way this far; I'll help you to
+the top if you'll keep a steady head."
+
+"That I'll do," cried Sandy, grasping his hand. "It's old Moseley's
+promise I have for steady work at the academy. If I can't climb the
+ladder, with you at one end and success at the other, then I'm not
+much of a chicken--I mean I'm not much."
+
+"Well, you better begin by leaving the girls alone," said Mrs. Hollis
+as she moved the sugar out of his reach. "Just let one drive by the
+gate, and we don't have any peace until you know who it is."
+
+"By the way," said the judge, as he helped himself to a corn-dodger
+and two kinds of preserves, "I'm sorry to see the friendship that's
+sprung up between Annette Fenton and young Nelson. I don't know what
+the doctor's thinking about to let it go on. Nelson is hitting a
+pretty lively pace for a youngster. He'll never live to reap his wild
+oats, though. He came into the world with consumption, and I don't
+think he will be long getting out of it. He's always getting into
+difficulty. I have had to fine him twice in the past month for
+gambling. Do you see anything of him, Sandy?"
+
+"No," said Sandy, biting his lip. His pride had suffered more than
+once at Carter's condescension.
+
+"Martha Meech must be worse," said Mrs. Hollis. "The up-stairs blinds
+have been closed all day."
+
+Sandy pushed back the apple-dumpling which Aunt Melvy had made at his
+special request.
+
+"Perhaps I can be helping them," he said as he rose from the table.
+
+When he came back he sat for a long time with his head on his hand.
+
+"Is she much worse?" asked Mrs. Hollis.
+
+"Yes," said Sandy; "and it's little that I can do, though she's
+coughing her life away. It's a shame--and a shame!" he cried in hot
+rebellion.
+
+All his vanity of the morning was dispelled by the tragedy taking
+place next door. He paced back and forth between the two houses,
+begging to be allowed to help, and proposing all sorts of impossible
+things.
+
+When inaction became intolerable, he plunged into his law books, at
+first not comprehending a line, but gradually becoming more and more
+interested, until at last the whole universe seemed to revolve about a
+case that was decided in a previous century.
+
+When he rose it was almost dusk, and he came back to the present
+world with a start. His first thought was of Ruth and the rapturous
+prospect of seeing her on the morrow; a swift doubt followed as to
+whether a white tie or a black one was proper; then a sudden fear that
+he had forgotten how to dance. He jumped to his feet, took a couple of
+steps--when he remembered Martha.
+
+The house seemed suddenly quiet and lonesome. He went from the
+sitting-room to the kitchen, but neither Mrs. Hollis nor Aunt Melvy
+was to be found. Returning through the front hall, he opened the door
+to the parlor.
+
+The sight that met him was somewhat gruesome. Everything was carefully
+wrapped in newspapers. Pictures enveloped in newspapers hung on the
+walls, newspaper chairs stood primly around a newspaper table. In the
+dim twilight it looked like the very ghost of a room.
+
+Sandy threw open the window, and going over to the newspaper piano,
+untied the wrappings. He softly touched the keys and began to sing in
+an undertone. Old Irish love-songs, asleep in his heart since they
+were first dropped there by the merry mother lips, stirred and awoke.
+The accompaniment limped along lamely enough; but the singer, with hat
+over his eyes and lemon-juice on his nose, sang on as only a poet and
+lover can. His rich, full voice lingered on the soft Celtic syllables,
+dwelt tenderly on the diminutive endearments, while his heart,
+overcharged with sorrow and joy and romance and dreams, spilled over
+in an ecstasy of song.
+
+Next door, in an upper bedroom, a tired soul paused in its final
+flight. Martha Meech, stretching forth her thin arms in the twilight,
+listened as one might listen to the strains of an angel choir.
+
+"It's Sandy," she said, and the color came to her cheeks, the light to
+her eyes. For, like Sandy, she had youth and she had love, and life
+itself could give no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE COUNTY FAIR
+
+
+The big amphitheater at the fair grounds was filled as completely and
+evenly as a new paper of pins. Through the air floated that sweetest
+of all music to the childish ear--the unceasing wail of expiring
+balloons; and childish souls were held together in one sticky ecstasy
+of molasses candy and pop-corn balls.
+
+Behind the highest row of seats was a promenade, and in front of the
+lowest was another. Around these circled a procession which, though
+constantly varying, held certain recurring figures like the charging
+steeds on a merry-go-round. There was Dr. Fenton, in his tight
+Confederate suit; he had been circling in that same procession at
+every fair for twenty years. There was the judge, lank of limb and
+loose of joint, who stopped to shake hands with all the strangers and
+invite them to take dinner in his booth, where Mrs. Hollis reveled in
+a riot of pastry. A little behind him strutted Mr. Moseley, sending
+search-lights of scrutiny over the crowd in order to discover the
+academy boys who might be wasting their time upon unlettered
+femininity.
+
+At one side of the amphitheater, raised to a place of honor, was the
+courting-box. Here the aristocratic youth of the country-side met to
+measure hearts, laugh at the rustics, and enjoy the races.
+
+In previous years Sandy had watched the courting-box from below, but
+this year he was in the center of it. Jests and greetings from the
+boys, and cordial glances from maidens both known and unknown, bade
+him welcome. But, in spite of his reception, and in spite of his
+irreproachable toilet, he was not having a good time. With hands in
+pockets and a scowl on his face, he stared gloomily over the crowd.
+Twice a kernel of pop-corn struck his ear, but he did not turn.
+
+Above him, Annette Fenton was fathoms deep in a flirtation with Carter
+Nelson; while below him, Ruth, in the daintiest of gowns and the
+largest of hats, was wasting her sweetness on the desert countenance
+of Sid Gray.
+
+Sandy refused to seek consolation elsewhere; he sat like a Spartan
+hero, and calmly watched his heart being consumed in the flames.
+
+This hour, for which he had been living, this longed-for opportunity
+of being near Ruth and possibly of speaking to her, was slipping away,
+and she did not even know he was there.
+
+He became fiercely critical of Sid Gray. He rejoiced in his stoutness
+and took grim pleasure in the fact that his necktie had slipped up at
+the back. He looked at his hand as it rested on the back of the seat;
+it was plump and white. Sandy held out his own broad, muscular palm,
+hardened and roughened by work. Then he put it in his pocket again and
+sighed.
+
+The afternoon wore gaily on. Louder grew the chorus of balloons and
+stickier grew the pop-corn balls. The courting-box was humming with
+laughter and jest. The Spartan hero began to rebel. Why should he
+allow himself to be tortured thus when there might be a way of escape?
+He recklessly resolved to put his fate to the test. Rising abruptly,
+he went down to the promenade and passed slowly along the
+courting-box, scanning the occupants as if in search of some one. It
+was on his fourth round that she saw him, and the electric shock
+almost lost him his opportunity. He looked twice to make sure she had
+spoken; then, with a bit of his heart in his throat and the rest in
+his eyes, he went up the steps and awkwardly held out his hand.
+
+The world made several convulsive circuits in its orbit and the bass
+drum performed a solo inside his head during the moment that
+followed. When the tumult subsided he found a pair of bright brown
+eyes smiling up at him and a small hand clasped in his.
+
+This idyllic condition was interrupted by a disturbance on the
+promenade, which caused them both to look in that direction. Some one
+was pushing roughly through the crowd.
+
+"Hi, there, Kilday! Sandy Kilday!"
+
+A heavy-set fellow was making his way noisily toward them. His suit of
+broad checks, his tan shoes, and his large diamond stud were
+strangers, but his little close-set eyes, protruding teeth, and bushy
+hair were hatefully familiar.
+
+Sandy started forward, and those nearest laughed when the stranger
+looked at him and said:
+
+"My guns! Git on to his togs! Ain't he a duke!"
+
+Sandy got Ricks out of the firing-line, around the corner of the
+courting-box. His face was crimson with mortification, but it never
+occurred to him to be angry.
+
+"What brought you back?" he asked huskily.
+
+"Hosses."
+
+"Are you going to drive this afternoon?"
+
+"Yep. One of young Nelson's colts in the last ring. Say," he added,
+"he's game, all right. Me and him have done biz before. Know him?"
+
+"Carter Nelson? Oh, yes; I know him," said Sandy, impatient to be rid
+of his companion.
+
+"Me and him are a winnin' couple," said Ricks. "We plays the races
+straight along. He puts up the dough, and I puts up the tips. Say,
+he's one of these here tony toughs; he won't let on he knows me when
+he's puttin' on dog. What about you, Sandy? Makin' good these days?"
+
+"I guess so," said Sandy, indifferently.
+
+"You ain't goin' to school yet?"
+
+"That I am," said Sandy; "and next year, too, if the money holds out."
+
+"Golly gosh!" said Ricks, incredulously. "Well, I got to be hikin'
+back. The next is my entry. I'll look you up after while. So-long!"
+
+He shambled off, and Sandy watched his broad-checked back until it was
+lost in the crowd.
+
+That Ricks should have turned up at that critical moment seemed a
+wilful prank on the part of fate. Sandy bit his lip and raged
+inwardly. He had a wild impulse to rush back to Ruth, seize her hand,
+and begin where he had left off. He might have done it, too, had not
+the promenade happened to land Dr. Fenton before him at that moment.
+
+The doctor was behaving in a most extraordinary and unmilitary way. He
+had stepped out of the ranks, and was performing strange manoeuvers
+about a knothole that looked into the courting-box. When he saw Sandy
+he opened fire.
+
+"Look at her! Look at her!" he whispered. "Whenever I pass she talks
+to Jimmy Reed on this side; but the moment she thinks I'm not looking,
+sir, she talks to Nelson on the other! Kilday," he went on, shaking
+his finger impressively, "that little girl is as slick as--a blame
+Yankee! But she'll not outwit me. I'm going right up there and take
+her home."
+
+Sandy laughingly held his arm. It was not the first time the doctor
+had confided in him. "No, no, doctor," he said; "I'll be the watch-dog
+for ye. Let me go and stay with Annette, and if Carter Nelson gets a
+word in her ear, it'll be because I've forgotten how to talk."
+
+"Will you?" asked the doctor, anxiously. "Nelson's a drunkard. I'd
+rather see my little girl dead than married to him. But she's wilful,
+Kilday; when she was just a baby she'd sit with her little pink toes
+curled up for an hour to keep me from putting on her shoes when she
+wanted to go barefoot! She's a fighter," he added, with a gruff
+chuckle that ended in a sigh, "but she's all I've got."
+
+Sandy gripped him by the hand, then turned the corner into the
+courting-box. Instantly his eager eyes sought Ruth, but she did not
+look up as he passed.
+
+He unceremoniously took his seat beside Annette, to the indignation of
+little Jimmy Reed. It was hard to accept Carter's patronizing
+tolerance, but a certain curve to his eyebrows and the turn of his
+head served as perpetual reminders of Ruth.
+
+Annette greeted Sandy effusively. She had found Jimmy entirely too
+limber a foil to use with any degree of skill, and she knew from past
+experience that Sandy and Carter were much better matched. If Sid Gray
+had been there also, she would have been quite happy. In Annette's
+estimation it was all a mistake about love being a game for two.
+
+"Who was your stylish friend?" she asked Sandy.
+
+"Ricks Wilson," said Sandy, shortly.
+
+Carter smiled condescendingly. "Your old business partner, I believe?"
+
+"Before he was yours," said Sandy.
+
+This was not at all to Annette's taste. They were not even thinking
+about her.
+
+"How m-many dances do you want for to-night?" she asked Sandy.
+
+"The first four."
+
+She wrote them on the corner of her fan. "Yes?"
+
+"The last four."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"And the four in between. What's that on your fan?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"But it is. Let me see."
+
+"Will you look at it easy and not tell?" she whispered, taking
+advantage of Carter's sudden interest in the judges' stand.
+
+"Sure and I will. Just a peep. Come!"
+
+She opened the fan half-way, and disclosed a tiny picture of himself
+sewed on one of the slats.
+
+"And it's meself that you care for, Annette!" he whispered. "I knew
+it, you rascal, you rogue!"
+
+"Let g-go my hand," she whispered, half laughing, half scolding.
+"Look, Carter, what I have on my fan!" and, to Sandy's chagrin, she
+opened the fan on the reverse side and disclosed a picture of Nelson.
+
+But Carter had neither eyes nor ears for her now. His whole attention
+was centered on the ring, where the most important event of the day
+was about to take place.
+
+It was a trial of two-year-olds for speed and durability. There were
+four entries--two bays, a sorrel, and Carter's own little thoroughbred
+"Nettie." He watched her as she pranced around the ring under Ricks's
+skilful handling; she had nothing to fear from the bays, but the
+sorrel was a close competitor.
+
+"Oh, this is your race, isn't it?" cried Annette as the band struck up
+"Dixie." "Where's my namesake? The pretty one just c-coming, with the
+ugly driver? Why, he's Sandy's friend, isn't he?"
+
+Sandy winced under her teasing, but he held his peace.
+
+The first heat Nettie won; the second, the sorrel; the third brought
+the grand stand to its feet. Even the revolving procession halted
+breathless.
+
+"Now they're off!" cried Annette, excitedly. "Mercy, how they g-go!
+Nettie is a little ahead; look, Sandy! She's gaining! No; the sorrel's
+ahead. Carter, your driver is g-going too close! He's g-going to smash
+in--Oh, look!"
+
+There was a crash of wheels and a great commotion. Several women
+screamed, and a number of men rushed into the ring. When Sandy got
+there, the greater crowd was not around the sorrel's driver, who lay
+in a heap against the railing with a broken leg and a bruised head; it
+was around Ricks Wilson in angry protest and indignation.
+
+The most vehement of them all was Judge Hollis,--the big, easy-going
+judge,--whose passion, once roused, was a thing to be reckoned with.
+
+"It was a dastardly piece of cowardice," he cried. "You all saw what
+he did! Call the sheriff, there! I intend to prosecute him to the full
+extent of the law."
+
+Ricks, with snapping eyes and snarling mouth, glanced anxiously
+around at the angry faces. He was looking for Carter Nelson, but
+Carter had discreetly departed. It was Sandy whom he spied, and
+instantly called: "Kilday, you'll see me through this mess? You know
+it wasn't none of my fault."
+
+Sandy pushed his way to the judge's side. He had never hated the sight
+of Ricks so much as at that moment.
+
+"It's Ricks Wilson," he whispered to the judge--"the boy I used to
+peddle with. Don't be sending him to jail, sir. I'll--I'll go his bail
+if you'll be letting him go."
+
+"Indeed you won't!" thundered the judge. "You to take money you've
+saved for your education to help this scoundrel, this rascal, this
+half murderer!"
+
+The crowd shouted its approval as it opened for the sheriff. Ricks was
+not the kind to make it easy for his captors, and a lively skirmish
+ensued.
+
+As he was led away he turned to the crowd back of him and shook his
+fist in the judge's face.
+
+"You done this," he cried. "I'll git even with you, if I go to hell
+fer it!"
+
+The judge laughed contemptuously, but Sandy watched Ricks depart with
+troubled eyes. He knew that he meant what he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+A COUNCIL OF WAR
+
+
+While the frivolous-minded of Clayton were bent upon the festivities
+of fair week, it must not be imagined that the grave and thoughtful
+contingent, which acts as ballast in every community, was idle.
+
+Mr. Moseley was a self-constituted leader in a crusade against
+dancing. At his earnest suggestion, every minister in town agreed to
+preach upon the subject at prayer-meeting the Wednesday evening of the
+hop.
+
+They held a preliminary meeting before services in the study of the
+Hard-Shell Baptist Church. Mr. Moseley occupied the chair, a Jove of
+righteousness dispensing thunderbolts of indignation to his
+satellites. A fringe of scant hair retreated respectfully from the
+unadorned dome which crowned his personal edifice. His manner was most
+serious and his every utterance freighted with importance.
+
+Beside him sat his rival in municipal authority, the Methodist
+preacher. He had a short upper lip and a square lower jaw, and a way
+of glaring out of his convex glasses that gave a comical imitation of
+a bullfrog in debate. This was the first occasion in the history of
+the town when he and Mr. Moseley had met in friendly concord. For the
+last few days the united war upon a common enemy had knitted their
+souls in a bond of brotherly affection.
+
+When the half-dozen preachers had assembled, Mr. Moseley rose with
+dignity. "My dear brethren," he began impressively, "the occasion is
+one which permits of no trifling. The dancing evil is one which has
+menaced our community for generations--a viper to be seized and
+throttled with a firm hand. The waltz, the--the Highland fling,
+the--the--"
+
+"German?" suggested some one faintly.
+
+"Yes, the german--are all invasions of the Evil One. The crowded
+rooms, the unholy excitement, are degenerating and debasing. I am glad
+to report one young soul who has turned from temptation and told me
+only to-day of his intention of refraining from partaking in the
+unrighteous amusement of this evening. That, brethren, was the nephew
+of my pastor."
+
+The little Presbyterian preacher, thus thrust into the light cast from
+the halo of his regenerate nephew, stirred uneasily. He was
+contemplating the expediency of his youthful kinsman in making the
+lack of a dress-suit serve as a means of lightening his coming
+examinations at the academy.
+
+Mr. Moseley, now fully launched upon a flood of eloquence, was just
+concluding a brilliant argument. "Look at the round dance!" he cried.
+"Who can behold and not shudder?"
+
+Mr. Meech, who had not beheld and therefore could not shudder,
+ventured a timid inquiry:
+
+"Mr. Moseley, just what is a round dance?"
+
+Mr. Moseley pushed back his chair and wheeled the table nearer the
+window. "Will you just step forward, Mr. Meech?"
+
+With difficulty Mr. Meech extricated himself from the corner to which
+the pressure of so many guests had relegated him. He slipped
+apologetically to the front and took his stand beneath the shadow of
+Mr. Moseley's presence. Prayer-meeting being but a semi-official
+occasion, he wore his second-best coat, and it had followed the
+shrinking habit established by its predecessors.
+
+"Now," commanded Mr. Moseley, "place your hand upon my shoulder."
+
+Mr. Meech did so with self-conscious gravity and serious apprehensions
+as to the revelations to follow.
+
+"Now," continued Mr. Moseley, "I place my arm about your waist--thus."
+
+"Surely not," objected Mr. Meech, in embarrassment.
+
+But Mr. Moseley was relentless. "I assure you it is true. And the
+other hand--" He stopped in grave deliberation. The Methodist brother,
+who had been growing more and more overcharged with suppressed
+knowledge, could contain himself no longer.
+
+"That's not right at all!" he burst forth irritably. "You don't hook
+your arm around like that! You hold the left arm out and saw it up and
+down--like this."
+
+He snatched the bewildered Mr. Meech from Mr. Moseley's embrace, and
+humming a waltz, stepped briskly about the limited space, to the
+consternation of the onlookers, who hastened to tuck their feet under
+their chairs.
+
+Mr. Meech, looking as if he were being backed into eternity, stumbled
+on the rug and clutched violently at the table-cover. In his downfall
+he carried his instructor with him, and a deluge of tracts from the
+table above followed.
+
+In the midst of the confusion there was a sound from the church next
+door. Mr. Meech sat up among the debris and listened. It was the
+opening hymn for prayer-meeting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HELL AND HEAVEN
+
+
+The events of the afternoon, stirring as they had been, were soon
+dismissed from Sandy's mind. The approaching hop possessed right of
+way over every other thought.
+
+By the combined assistance of Mrs. Hollis and Aunt Melvy, he had been
+ready at half-past seven. The dance did not begin until nine; but he
+was to take Annette, and the doctor, whose habits were as fixed as the
+numbers on a clock, had insisted that she should attend prayer-meeting
+as usual before the dance.
+
+In the little Hard-Shell Baptist Church the congregation had assembled
+and services had begun before Mr. Meech arrived. He appeared
+singularly flushed and breathless, and caused some confusion by
+giving out the hymn which had just been sung. It was not until he
+became stirred by the power of his theme that he gained composure.
+
+In the front seat Dr. Fenton drowsed through the discourse. Next to
+him, her party dress and slipper-bag concealed by a rain-coat, sat
+Annette, hot and rebellious, and in anything but a prayerful frame of
+mind. Beside her sat Sandy, rigid with elegance, his eyes riveted on
+the preacher, but his thoughts on his feet. For, stationary though he
+was, he was really giving himself the benefit of a final rehearsal,
+and mentally performing steps of intricate and marvelous variety.
+
+"Stop moving your feet!" whispered Annette. "You'll step on my dress."
+
+"Is it the mazurka that's got the hiccoughs in the middle?" asked
+Sandy, anxiously.
+
+Mr. Meech paused and looked at them over his spectacles in plaintive
+reproach.
+
+Then he wandered on into sixthlies and seventhlies of increasing
+length. Before the final amen had died upon the air, Annette and Sandy
+had escaped to their reward.
+
+The hop was given in the town hall, a large, dreary-looking room with
+a raised platform at one end, where Johnson's band introduced
+instruments and notes that had never met before.
+
+To Sandy it was a hall of Olympus, where filmy-robed goddesses moved
+to the music of the spheres.
+
+"Isn't the floor g-grand?" cried Annette, with a little run and a
+slide. "I could just d-die dancing."
+
+"What may the chalk line be for?" asked Sandy.
+
+"That's to keep the stags b-back."
+
+"The stags?" His spirits fell before this new complication.
+
+"Yes; the boys without partners, you know. They have to stay b-back of
+the chalk line and b-break in from there. You'll catch on right away.
+There's your d-dressing-room over there. Don't bother about my card;
+it's been filled a week. Is there anyb-body you want to dance with
+especially?"
+
+Sandy's eyes answered for him. They were held by a vision in the
+center of the room, and he was blinded to everything else.
+
+Half surrounded by a little group stood Ruth Nelson, red-lipped,
+bright-eyed, eager, her slender white-clad figure on tiptoe with
+buoyant expectancy. The crimson rose caught in her hair kept impatient
+time to the tap of her restless high-heeled slipper, and she swayed
+and sang with the music in a way to set the sea-waves dancing.
+
+It was small matter to Sandy that the lace on her dress had belonged
+to her great-grandmother, or that the pearls about her round white
+throat had been worn by an ancestor who was lady in waiting to a queen
+of France. He only knew she meant everything beautiful in the world to
+him,--music and springtime and dawn,--and that when she smiled it was
+sunlight in his heart.
+
+"I don't think you can g-get a dance there," said Annette, following
+his gaze. "She is always engaged ahead. But I'll find out, if you
+w-want me to."
+
+"Would you, now?" cried Sandy, fervently pressing her hand. Then he
+stopped short. "Annette," he said wistfully, "do you think she'll be
+caring to dance with a boy like me?"
+
+"Of course she will, if you k-keep off her toes and don't forget to
+count the time. Hurry and g-get off your things; I want you to try it
+before the crowd comes. There are only a few couples for you to bump
+into now, and there will be a hundred after a while."
+
+O the fine rapture of that first moment when Sandy found he could
+dance! Annette knocked away his remaining doubts and fears and boldly
+launched him into the merry whirl. The first rush was breathless,
+carrying all before it; but after a moment's awful uncertainty he
+settled into the step and glided away over the shining floor,
+counting his knots to be sure, but sailing triumphantly forward
+behind the flutter of Annette's pink ribbons.
+
+He was introduced right and left, and he asked every girl he met to
+dance. It made little difference who she happened to be, for in
+imagination she was always the same. Annette had secured for him the
+last dance with Ruth, and he intended to practise every moment until
+that magic hour should arrive.
+
+But youth reckons not with circumstance. Just when all sails were set
+and he was nearing perfection, he met with a disaster which promptly
+relegated him to the dry-dock. His partner did not dance!
+
+When he looked at her, he found that she was tall and thin and
+vivacious, and he felt that she must have been going to hops for a
+very long time.
+
+"I hate dancing, don't you?" she said. "Let's go over there, out of
+the crowd, and have a nice long talk."
+
+Sandy glanced at the place indicated. It seemed a long way from base.
+
+"Wouldn't you like to stand here and watch them?" he floundered
+helplessly.
+
+"Oh, dear, no; it's too crowded. Besides," she added playfully, "I
+have heard _so_ much about you and your awfully romantic life. I just
+want to know all about it."
+
+As a trout, one moment in mid-stream swimming and frolicking with the
+best, finds himself suddenly snatched out upon the bank, gasping and
+helpless, so Sandy found himself high and dry against the wall, with
+the insistent voice of his captor droning in his ears.
+
+She had evidently been wound and set, and Sandy had unwittingly
+started the pendulum.
+
+"Have you ever been to Chicago, Mr. Kilday? No? It is such a dear
+place; I simply adore it. I'm on my way home from there now. All my
+men friends begged me to stay; they sent me so many flowers I had to
+keep them in the bath-tub. Wasn't it darling of them? I just love
+men. How long have you been in Clayton, Mr. Kilday?"
+
+He tried to answer coherently, but his thoughts were in eager pursuit
+of a red rose that flashed in and out among the dancers.
+
+"And you really came over from England by yourself when you were just
+a small boy? Weren't you clever! But I know the captain and all of
+them made a great pet of you. Then you made a walking tour through the
+States; I heard all about it. It was just too romantic for any use. I
+love adventure. My two best friends are at the theological seminary.
+One's going to India,--he's a blond,--and one to Africa. Just between
+us, I am going with one of them, but I can't for the life of me make
+up my mind which. I don't know why I am telling you all these things,
+Mr. Kilday, except that you are so sweet and sympathetic. You
+understand, don't you?"
+
+He assured her that he did with more vehemence than was necessary, for
+he did not want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.
+
+"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt
+that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of
+magnetism."
+
+Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable
+realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence.
+
+After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the
+drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette.
+
+"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you
+didn't like to sit out d-dances."
+
+He smiled feebly.
+
+"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk
+better than to dance, it's our own affair."
+
+Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned,
+they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering
+them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he
+resented.
+
+"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the
+voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had.
+His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always
+that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all
+the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but
+he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he
+got back."
+
+Sandy sighed, ostensibly in sympathy, but in reality at his own sad
+fate. At that moment Prometheus himself would not have envied him his
+state of mind. The music set his nerves tingling and the dancers
+beckoned him on, yet he was bound to his chair, with no relief in
+view. At the tenth intermission he suggested soda-water again, after
+which they returned to their seats.
+
+"I hope people aren't talking about us," she said, with a pleased
+laugh. "I oughtn't to have given you all these dances. It's perfectly
+fatal for a girl to show such preference for one man. But we are so
+congenial, and you do remind me--"
+
+"If it's embarrassing to you--" began Sandy, grasping the straw with
+both hands.
+
+"Not one bit," she asserted. "If you would rather have a good
+confidential time here with me than to meet a lot of silly little
+girls, then I don't care what people say. But, as I was telling you, I
+met him the year I came out, and he was interested in me right off--"
+
+On and on and on she went, and Sandy ceased to struggle. He sank in
+his chair in dogged dejection. He felt that she had been talking ever
+since he was born, and was going to continue until he died, and that
+all he could do was to wait in anguish for the end. He watched the
+flushed, happy faces whirling by. How he envied the boys their wilted
+collars! After eons and eons of time the band played "Home, Sweet
+Home."
+
+"It's the last dance," said she. "Aren't you sorry? We've had a
+perfectly divine time--" She got no further, for her partner, faithful
+through many numbers, had deserted his post at last.
+
+Sandy pushed eagerly through the crowd and presented himself at Ruth's
+side. She was sitting with several boys on the stage steps, her cheeks
+flushed from the dance, and a loosened curl falling across her bare
+shoulder. He tried to claim his dance, but the words, too long
+confined, rushed to his lips so madly as to form a blockade.
+
+She looked up and saw him--saw the longing and doubt in his eyes, and
+came to his rescue.
+
+"Isn't this our dance, Mr. Kilday?" she said, half smiling, half
+timidly.
+
+In the excitement of the moment he forgot his carefully practised bow,
+and the omission brought such chagrin that he started out with the
+wrong foot. There was a gentle, ripping sound, and a quarter of a yard
+of lace trailed from the hem of his partner's skirt.
+
+"Did I put me foot in it?" cried Sandy, in such burning consternation
+that Ruth laughed.
+
+"It doesn't matter a bit," she said lightly, as she stooped to pin it
+up. "It shows I've had a good time. Come! Don't let's miss the music."
+
+He took her hand, and they stepped out on the polished floor. The
+blissful agony of those first few moments was intolerably sweet.
+
+She was actually dancing with him (one, two, three; one, two, three).
+Her soft hair was close to his cheek (one, two, three; one, two,
+three). What if he should miss a step (one, two, three)--or fall?
+
+He stole a glance at her; she smiled reassuringly. Then he forgot all
+about the steps and counting time. He felt as he had that morning on
+shipboard when the _America_ passed the _Great Britain_. All the joy
+of boyhood resurged through his veins, and he danced in a wild
+abandonment of bliss; for the band was playing "Home, Sweet Home,"
+and to Sandy it meant that, come what might, within her shining eyes
+his gipsy soul had found its final home.
+
+[Illustration: "Then he forgot all about the steps and counting time"]
+
+When the music stopped, and they stood, breathless and laughing, at
+the dressing-room door, Ruth said:
+
+"I thought Annette told me you were just learning to dance!"
+
+"So I am," said Sandy; "but me heart never kept time for me before!"
+
+When Annette joined them she looked up at Sandy and smiled.
+
+"Poor f-fellow!" she said sympathetically. "What a perfectly horrid
+time you've had!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE NELSON HOME
+
+Willowvale, the Nelson homestead, lay in the last curve of the river,
+just before it left the restrictions of town for the freedom of fields
+and meadows.
+
+It was a quaint old house, all over honeysuckles and bow-windows and
+verandas, approached by an oleander-bordered walk, and sheltered by a
+wide circle of poplar-and oak-trees that had nodded both approval and
+disapproval over many generations of Nelsons.
+
+In the dining-room, on the massive mahogany table, lunch was laid for
+three. Carter sat at the foot, absorbed in a newspaper, while at the
+head Mrs. Nelson languidly partook of her second biscuit. It was
+vulgar, in her estimation, for a lady to indulge in more than two
+biscuits at a meal.
+
+When old Evan Nelson died six years before, he had left the bulk of
+his fortune to his two grandchildren, and a handsome allowance to his
+eldest son's widow, with the understanding that she was to take charge
+of Ruth until that young lady should become of age.
+
+Mrs. Nelson accepted the trust with becoming resignation. The prospect
+of guiding a wealthy and obedient young person through the social
+labyrinth to an eligible marriage wakened certain faculties that had
+long lain dormant. It was not until the wealthy and obedient young
+person began to develop tastes of her own that she found the burden
+irksome.
+
+Nine months of the year Ruth was at boarding-school, and the remaining
+three she insisted upon spending in the old home at Clayton, where
+Carter kept his dogs and horses and spent his summers. Hitherto Mrs.
+Nelson had compromised with her. By adroit management she contrived
+to keep her, for weeks at a time, at various summer resorts, where she
+expected her to serve a sort of social apprenticeship which would fit
+her for her future career.
+
+At nineteen Ruth developed alarming symptoms of obstinacy. Mrs. Nelson
+confessed tearfully to the rest of the family that it had existed in
+embryo for years. Instead of making the most of her first summer out
+of school, the foolish girl announced her intention of going to
+Willowvale for an indefinite stay.
+
+It was indignation at this state of affairs that caused Mrs. Nelson to
+lose her appetite. Clayton was to her the limit of civilization; there
+was too much sunshine, too much fresh air, too much out of doors. She
+disliked nature in its crude state; she preferred it softened and
+toned down to drawing-room pitch.
+
+She glanced up in disapproval as Ruth's laugh sounded in the hall.
+
+"Rachel, tell her that lunch is waiting," she said to the colored
+girl at her side.
+
+Carter looked up as Ruth came breezily into the room. She wore her
+riding-habit, and her hair was tossed by her brisk morning canter.
+
+"You don't look as if you had danced all night," he said. "Did the
+mare behave herself?"
+
+"She's a perfect beauty, Carter. I rode her round the old mill-dam,
+'cross the ford, and back by the Hollises'. Now I'm perfectly
+famished. Some hot rolls, Rachel, and another croquette, and--and
+everything you have."
+
+Mrs. Nelson picked several crumbs from the cloth and laid them
+carefully on her plate. "When I was a young lady I always slept after
+being out in the evening. I had a half-cup of coffee and one roll
+brought to me in bed, and I never rose until noon."
+
+"But I hate to stay in bed," said Ruth; "and, besides, I hate to miss
+a half-day."
+
+"Is there anything on for this afternoon?" asked Carter.
+
+"Why, yes--" Ruth began, but her aunt finished for her:
+
+"Now, Carter, it's too warm to be proposing anything more. You aren't
+well, and Ruth ought to stay at home and put cold cream on her face.
+It is getting so burned that her pink evening-dresses will be worse
+than useless. Besides, there is absolutely nothing to do in this
+stupid place. I feel as if I couldn't stand it all summer."
+
+This being a familiar opening to a disagreeable subject, the two young
+people lapsed into silence, and Mrs. Nelson was constrained to address
+her communications to the tea-pot. She glanced about the big,
+old-fashioned room and sighed.
+
+"It's nothing short of criminal to keep all this old mahogany buried
+here in the country, and the cut-glass and silver. And to think that
+the house cannot be sold for two more years! Not until Ruth is of age!
+What _do_ you suppose your dear grandfather _could_ have been
+thinking of?"
+
+This question, eliciting no reply from the tea-pot, remained suspended
+in the air until it attracted Ruth's wandering attention.
+
+"I beg your pardon, aunt. What grandfather was thinking of? About the
+place? Why, I guess he hoped that Carter and I would keep it."
+
+Carter looked over his paper. "Keep this old cemetery? Not I! The day
+it is sold I start for Europe. If one lung is gone and the other
+going, I intend to enjoy myself while it goes."
+
+"Carter!" begged Ruth, appealingly.
+
+He laughed. "You ought to be glad to get rid of me, Ruth. You've
+bothered your head about me ever since you were born."
+
+She slipped her hand into his as it lay on the table, and looked at
+him wistfully.
+
+"The idea of the old governor thinking we'd want to stay here!" he
+said, with a curl of the lip.
+
+"Perfectly ridiculous!" echoed Mrs. Nelson.
+
+"I don't know," said Ruth; "it's more like home than any place else. I
+don't think I could ever bear to sell it."
+
+"Now, my dear Ruth," said Mrs. Nelson, in genuine alarm, "don't be
+sentimental, I beg of you. When once you make your debut, you'll feel
+very different about things. Of course the place must be sold: it
+can't be rented, and I'm sure you will never get me to spend another
+summer in Clayton. You could not stay here alone."
+
+Ruth sat with her chin in her hands and gazed absently out of the
+window. She remembered when that yard was to her as the garden of
+Eden. As a child she had been brought here, a delicate, faded little
+hot-house plant, and for three wonderful years had been allowed to
+grow and blossom at will in the freedom of outdoor life. The glamour
+of those old days still clung to the place, and made her love
+everything connected with it. The front gate, with its wide white
+posts, still held the records of her growth, for each year her
+grandfather had stood her against it and marked her progress. The huge
+green tub holding the crape myrtle was once a park where she and
+Annette had played dolls, and once it had served as a burying-ground
+when Carter's sling brought down a sparrow. The ice house, with its
+steep roof, recalled a thrilling tobogganing experience when she was
+six. Grandfather had laughed over the torn gown, and bade her do it
+again.
+
+It was the trees, though, that she loved best of all; for they were
+friendly old poplar-trees on which the bark formed itself into all
+sorts of curious eyes. One was a wicked old stepfather eye with a
+heavy lid; she remembered how she used to tiptoe past it and pretend
+to be afraid. Beyond, by the arbor, were two smaller trees, where a
+coquettish eye on one looked up to an adoring eye on the other. She
+had often built a romance about them as she watched them peeping at
+each other through the leaves.
+
+Down behind the house the waving fields of blue-grass rippled away to
+the little river, where weeping willows hung their heads above the
+lazy water, and ferns reached up the banks to catch the flowers. And
+the fields and the river and the house and the trees were hers,--hers
+and Carter's,--and neither could sell without the consent of the
+other. She took a deep breath of satisfaction. The prospect of living
+alone in the old homestead failed to appal her.
+
+"A letter came this morning," said Mrs. Nelson, tracing the crest on
+the silver creamer. "It's from your Aunt Elizabeth. She wants us to
+spend ten days with her at the shore. They have taken a handsome
+cottage next to the Warrentons. You remember young Mr. Warrenton,
+Ruth? He is a grandson of Commodore Warrenton."
+
+"Warrenton? Oh, yes, I do remember him--the one that didn't have any
+neck."
+
+Mrs. Nelson closed her eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience;
+then she went on: "Your Aunt Elizabeth thinks, as I do, that it is
+absurd for you to bury yourself down here. She wants you to meet
+people of your own class. Do you think you can be ready to start on
+Wednesday?"
+
+"Why, we have been here only a week!" cried Ruth. "I am having such a
+good time, and--" she broke off impulsively. "But I know it's dull for
+you, Aunt Clara. You go, and leave me here with Carter. I'll do
+everything you say if you will only let me stay."
+
+Carter laughed. "One would think that Ruth's sole aim in life was to
+cultivate Clayton--the distinguished, exclusive, aristocratic society
+of Clayton."
+
+She put her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly: "Please
+don't laugh at me, Carter! I love it here, and I want to stay. You
+know Aunt Elizabeth; you know what her friends are like. They think I
+am queer. I can't be happy where they are."
+
+Mrs. Nelson resorted to her smelling-bottle. "Of course my opinions
+are of no weight. I only wish to remind you that it would be most
+impolitic to offend your Aunt Elizabeth. She could introduce you into
+the most desirable set; and even if she is a little--" she searched a
+moment for a word--"a little liberal in her views, one can overlook
+that on account of her generosity. She is a very influential woman,
+Ruth, and a very wealthy one."
+
+Ruth made a quick, impatient gesture. "I don't like her, Aunt Clara;
+and I don't want you to ask me to go there."
+
+Mrs. Nelson folded her napkin with tragic deliberation. "Very well,"
+she said; "it is not my place to urge it. I can only point out your
+duty and leave the rest to you. One thing I must speak about, and that
+is your associating so familiarly with these townspeople. They are
+impertinent; they take advantages, and forget who we are. Why, the
+blacksmith had the audacity to refer to the dear major as 'Bob.'"
+
+"Old Uncle Dan?" asked Ruth, laughing. "I saw him yesterday, and he
+shook hands with me and said: 'Golly, sissy, how you've growed!'"
+
+"Ruth," cried Mrs. Nelson, "how can you! Haven't you _any_ family
+pride?" The tears came to her eyes, for the invitation to visit the
+Hunter-Nelsons was one for which she had angled skilfully, and its
+summary dismissal was a sore trial to her.
+
+In a moment Ruth was at her side, all contrition: "I'm sorry, Aunt
+Clara; I know I'm a disappointment to you. I'll try--"
+
+Mrs. Nelson withdrew her hand and directed her injured reply to
+Carter. "I have done my duty by your sister. She has been given every
+advantage a young lady could desire. If she insists upon throwing away
+her opportunities, I can't help it. I suppose I am no longer to be
+consulted--no longer to be considered." She sought the seclusion of
+her pocket-handkerchief, and her pompadour swayed with emotion.
+
+Ruth stood at the table, miserably pulling a rose to pieces. This
+discussion was an old one, but it lost none of its sting by
+repetition. Was she queer and obstinate and unreasonable?
+
+"Ruth's all right," said Carter, seeing her discomfort. "She will have
+more sense when she is older. She's just got her little head turned by
+all the attention she has had since coming home. There isn't a boy in
+the county who wouldn't make love to her at the drop of her eyelash.
+She was the belle of the hop last night; had the boys about her three
+deep most of the time."
+
+"The hop!" Mrs. Nelson so far forgot herself as to uncover one eye.
+"Don't speak of that wretched affair! The idea of her going! What do
+you suppose your Aunt Elizabeth would say? A country dance in a public
+hall!"
+
+"I only dropped in for the last few dances," said Carter, pouring
+himself another glass of wine. "It was beastly hot and stupid."
+
+"I danced every minute the music played," cried Ruth; "and when they
+played, 'Home, Sweet Home,' I could have begun and gone right through
+it again."
+
+"By the way," said her brother, "didn't I see you dancing with that
+Kilday boy?"
+
+"The last dance," said Ruth. "Why?"
+
+"Oh, I was a little surprised, that's all."
+
+Mrs. Nelson, scenting the suggestion in Carter's voice, was instantly
+alert.
+
+"Who, pray, is Kilday?"
+
+"Oh, Kilday isn't anybody; that's the trouble. If he had been, he
+would never have stayed with that old crank Judge Hollis. The judge
+thinks he is appointed by Providence to control this bright particular
+burg. He is even attempting to regulate me of late. The next time he
+interferes he'll hear from me."
+
+"But Kilday?" urged Mrs. Nelson, feebly persistent.
+
+"Oh, Kilday is good enough in his place. He's a first-class athlete,
+and has made a record up at the academy. But he was a peddler, you
+know--an Irish peddler; came here three or four years ago with a pack
+on his back."
+
+"And Ruth danced with him!" Mrs. Nelson's words were punctuated with
+horror.
+
+Ruth looked up with blazing eyes. "Yes, I danced with him; why
+shouldn't I? You made me dance with Mr. Warrenton, last summer, when I
+told you he was drinking."
+
+"But, my dear child, you forget who Mr. Warrenton is. And you actually
+danced with a peddler!" Her voice grew faint. "My dear, this must
+never occur again. You are young and easily imposed upon. I will
+accompany you everywhere in the future. Of course you need never
+recognize him hereafter. The impertinence of his addressing you!"
+
+A step sounded on the gravel outside. Ruth ran to the window and spoke
+to some one below. "I'll be there as soon as I change my habit," she
+called.
+
+"Who is it?" asked her aunt, hastily arranging her disturbed locks.
+
+Ruth paused at the door. There was a slight tremor about her lips,
+but her eyes flashed their first open declaration of independence.
+
+"It's Mr. Kilday," she said; "we are going out on the river."
+
+There was an oppressive silence of ten minutes after she left, during
+which Carter smiled behind his paper and Mrs. Nelson gazed indignantly
+at the tea-pot. Then she tapped the bell.
+
+"Rachel," she said impressively, "go to Miss Ruth's room and get her
+veil and gloves and sun-shade. Have Thomas take them to the boat-house
+at once."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+UNDER THE WILLOWS
+
+
+Between willow-fringed banks of softest green, and under the bluest of
+summer skies, the little river took its lazy Southern way. Tall blue
+lobelias and golden flags played hide-and-seek in the reflections of
+the gentle stream, and an occasional spray of goldenrod, advance-guard
+of the autumn, stood apart, a silent warning to the summer idlers.
+
+Somewhere overhead a vireo, dainty poet of bird-land, proclaimed his
+love to the wide world; while below, another child of nature, no less
+impassioned, no less aching to give vent to the joy that was bursting
+his being, sat silent in a canoe that swung softly with the pulsing of
+the stream.
+
+For Sandy had followed the highroad that led straight into the Land
+of Enchantment. No more wanderings by intricate byways up golden hills
+to golden castles; the Love Road had led him at last to the real world
+of the King Arthur days--the world that was lighted by a strange and
+wondrous light of romance, wherein he dwelt, a knight, waiting and
+longing to prove his valor in the eyes of his lady fair.
+
+Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain. Oh for dungeons and
+towers and forbidding battlements! Any danger was welcome from which
+he might rescue her. Fire, flood, or bandits--he would brave them all.
+Meanwhile he sat in the prow of the boat, his hands clasped about his
+knees, utterly powerless to break the spell of awkward silence that
+seemed to possess him.
+
+[Illustration: "Burning deeds of prowess rioted in his brain"]
+
+They had paddled in under the willows to avoid the heat of the sun,
+and had tied their boat to an overhanging bough.
+
+Ruth, with her sleeve turned back to the elbow, was trailing her hand
+in the cool water and watching the little circles that followed her
+fingers. Her hat was off, and her hair, where the sun fell on it
+through the leaves, was almost the color of her eyes.
+
+But what was the real color of her eyes? Sandy brought all his
+intellect to bear upon the momentous question. Sometimes, he thought,
+they were as dark as the velvet shadows in the heart of the stream;
+sometimes they were lighted by tiny flames of gold that sparkled in
+the brown depths as the sunshine sparkled in the shadows. They were
+deep as his love and bright as his hope.
+
+Suddenly he realized that she had asked him a question.
+
+"It's never a word I've heard of what ye are saying!" he exclaimed
+contritely. "My mind was on your eyes, and the brown of them. Do they
+keep changing color like that all the time?"
+
+Ruth, thus earnestly appealed to, blushed furiously.
+
+"I was talking about the river," she said quickly. "It's jolly under
+here, isn't it? So cool and green! I was awfully cross when I
+came."
+
+"You cross?"
+
+She nodded her head. "And ungrateful, and perverse, and queer, and
+totally unlike my father's family." She counted off her shortcomings
+on her fingers, and raised her brows in comical imitation of her aunt.
+
+"A left-hand blessing on the one that said so!" cried Sandy, with such
+ardor that she fled to another subject.
+
+"I saw Martha Meech yesterday. She was talking about you. She was very
+weak, and could speak only in a whisper, but she seemed happy."
+
+"It's like her soul was in Heaven already," said Sandy.
+
+"I took her a little picture," went on Ruth; "she loves them so. It
+was a copy of one of Turner's."
+
+"Turner?" repeated Sandy. "Joseph Mallord William Turner, born in
+London, 1775. Member of the Royal Academy. Died in 1851."
+
+She looked so amazed at this burst of information that he laughed.
+
+"It's out of the catalogue. I learned what it said about the ones I
+liked best years ago."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At the Olympian Exposition."
+
+"I was there," said Ruth; "it was the summer we came home from Europe.
+Perhaps that was where I saw you. I know I saw you somewhere before
+you came here."
+
+"Perhaps," said Sandy, skipping a bit of bark across the water.
+
+A band of yellow butterflies on wide wings circled about them, and
+one, mistaking Ruth's rosy wet fingers for a flower, settled there for
+a long rest.
+
+"Look!" she whispered; "see how long it stays!"
+
+"It's not meself would be blaming it for forgetting to go away," said
+Sandy.
+
+They both laughed, then Ruth leaned over the boat's side and pretended
+to be absorbed in her reflection in the water. Sandy had not learned
+that unveiled glances are improper, and if his lips refrained from
+echoing the vireo's song, his eyes were less discreet.
+
+"You've got a dimple in your elbow!" he cried, with the air of one
+discovering a continent.
+
+"I haven't," declared she, but the dimple turned State's evidence.
+
+The sun had gone under a cloud as the afternoon shadows began to
+lengthen, and a light tenderer than sunlight and warmer than moonlight
+fell across the river. The water slipped over the stones behind them
+with a pleasant swish and swirl, and the mint that was crushed by the
+prow of their boat gave forth an aromatic perfume.
+
+Ever afterward the first faint odor of mint made Sandy close his eyes
+in a quick desire to retain the memory it recalled, to bring back the
+dawn of love, the first faint flush of consciousness in the girlish
+cheeks and the soft red lips, and the quick, uncertain breath as her
+heart tried not to catch beat with his own.
+
+"Can't you sing something?" she asked presently. "Annette Fenton says
+you know all sorts of quaint old songs."
+
+"They're just the bits I remember of what me mother used to sing me in
+the old country."
+
+"Sing the one you like best," demanded Ruth.
+
+Softly, with the murmur of the river ac-companying the song, he began:
+
+    "Ah! The moment was sad when my love and I parted,
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!
+    As I kiss'd off her tears, I was nigh broken-hearted!--
+      Savourneen deelish, signan O!"
+
+Ruth took her hand out of the water and looked at him with puzzled
+eyes. "Where have I heard it? On a boat somewhere, and the moon was
+shining. I remember the refrain perfectly."
+
+Sandy remembered, too. In a moment he felt himself an impostor and a
+cheat. He had stumbled into the Enchanted Land, but he had no right to
+be there. He buried his head in his hands and felt the dream-world
+tottering about him.
+
+"Are you trying to remember the second verse?" asked Ruth.
+
+"No," said he, his head still bowed; "I'm trying to help you remember
+the first one. Was it the boat ye came over from Europe in?"
+
+"That was it!" she cried. "It was on shipboard. I was standing by the
+railing one night and heard some one singing it in the steerage. I was
+just a little girl, but I've never forgotten that 'Savourneen
+deelish,' nor the way he sang it."
+
+"Was it a man'?" asked Sandy, huskily.
+
+"No," she said, half frowning in her effort to remember; "it was a
+boy--a stowaway, I think. They said he had tried to steal his way in a
+life-boat."
+
+"He had!" cried Sandy, raising his head and leaning toward her. "He
+stole on board with only a few shillings and a bundle of clothes. He
+sneaked his way up to a life-boat and hid there like a thief. When
+they found him and punished him as he deserved, there was a little
+lady looked down at him and was sorry, and he's traveled over all the
+years from then to now to thank her for it."
+
+Ruth drew back in amazement, and Sandy's courage failed for a moment.
+Then his face hardened and he plunged recklessly on:
+
+"I've blacked boots, and sold papers; I've fought dogs, and peddled,
+and worked on the railroad. Many's the time I've been glad to eat the
+scraps the workmen left on the track. And just because a kind, good
+man--God prosper his soul!--saw fit to give me a home and an
+education, I turned a fool and dared to think I was a gentleman!"
+
+For a moment pride held Ruth's pity back. Every tradition of her
+family threw up a barrier between herself and this son of the soil.
+
+"Why did you come to Kentucky?" she asked.
+
+"Why?" cried Sandy, too miserable to hold anything back. "Because I
+saw the name of the place on your bag at the pier. I came here for the
+chance of seeing you again, of knowing for sure there was something
+good and beautiful in the world to offset all the bad I'd seen. Every
+page I've learned has been for you, every wrong thought I've put out
+of me mind has been to make more room for you. I don't even ask ye to
+be my friend; I only ask to be yours, to see ye sometime, to talk to
+you, and to keep ye first in my heart and to serve ye to the end."
+
+The vireo had stopped singing and was swinging on a bough above them.
+
+Ruth sat very still and looked straight before her. She had never seen
+a soul laid bare before, and the sight thrilled and troubled her. All
+the petty artifices which the world had taught her seemed useless
+before this shining candor.
+
+"And--and you've remembered me all this time?" she asked, with a
+little tremble in her voice. "I did not know people cared like that."
+
+"And you're not sorry?" persisted Sandy. "You'll let me be your
+friend?"
+
+She held out her hand with an earnestness as deep as his own. In an
+instant he had caught it to his lips. All the bloom of the summer
+rushed to her cheeks, and she drew quickly away.
+
+"Oh! but I'll take it back--I never meant it," cried Sandy, wild with
+remorse. "Me heart crossed the line ahead of me head, that was all.
+You've given me your friendship, and may the sorrow seize me if I ever
+ask for more!"
+
+At this the vireo burst into such mocking, derisive laughter of song
+that they both looked up and smiled.
+
+"He doesn't think you mean it," said Ruth; "but you must mean it,
+else I can't ever be your friend."
+
+Sandy shook his fist at the bird.
+
+"You spalpeen, you! If I had ye down here I'd throw ye out of the
+tree! But you mustn't believe him. I'll stick to my word as the wind
+to the tree-tops. No--I don't mean that. As the stream to the shore.
+No-"
+
+He stopped and laughed. All figures of speech conspired to make him
+break his word.
+
+Somewhere from out the forgotten world came six long, lingering
+strokes of a bell. Sandy and Ruth untied the canoe and paddled out
+into midstream, leaving the willow bower full of memories and the
+vireo still hopping about among the branches.
+
+"I'll paddle you up to the bridge," said Ruth; "then you will be near
+the post-office."
+
+Sandy's voice was breaking to say that she could paddle him up to the
+moon if she would only stay there between him and the sun, with her
+hair forming a halo about her face. But they were going down-stream,
+and all too soon he was stepping out of the canoe to earth again.
+
+"And will I have to be waiting till the morrow to see you?" he asked,
+with his hand on the boat.
+
+"To-morrow? Not until Sunday."
+
+"But Sunday is a month off! You'll be coming for the mail?"
+
+"We send for the mail," said Ruth, demurely.
+
+"Then ye'll be sending in vain for yours. I'll hold it back till ye
+come yourself, if I lose my position for it."
+
+Ruth put three feet of water between them, then she looked up with
+mischief in her eyes. "I don't want you to lose your position," she
+said.
+
+"Then you'll come?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+Sandy watched her paddle away straight into the heart of the sun. He
+climbed the bank and waved her out of sight. He had to use a maple
+branch, for his hat and handkerchief, not to mention less material
+possessions, were floating down-stream in the boat with Ruth.
+
+"Hello, Kilday!" called Dr. Fenton from the road above. "Going
+up-town? I'll give you a lift."
+
+Sandy turned and looked up at the doctor impatiently. The presence of
+other people in the world seemed an intrusion.
+
+"I've been out to the Meeches' all afternoon," said the doctor,
+wearily, mopping his face with a red-bordered handkerchief.
+
+"Is Martha worse?" asked Sandy, in quick alarm.
+
+"No, she's better," said the doctor, gruffly; "she died at four
+o'clock."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE VICTIM
+
+
+Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to
+Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up
+a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel
+to the flames that were consuming him. The one absorbing necessity of
+his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy,
+forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well
+for his future ability at the bar.
+
+In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented
+all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly. But with
+the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly
+forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag
+of truce.
+
+With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit
+himself to Ruth's standards. Every unconscious suggestion that she let
+fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and
+profited by. With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy
+of her. Fighting, climbing, struggling upward, he closed his eyes to
+the awful depth to which he would fall if his quest were vain.
+
+Meanwhile his cheeks became hollow and he lost his appetite. The judge
+attributed it to Martha Meech's death; for Sandy's genuine grief and
+his continued kindness to the bereft neighbors confirmed an old
+suspicion. Mrs. Hollis thought it was malaria, and dosed him
+accordingly. It was Aunt Melvy who made note of his symptoms and
+diagnosed his case correctly.
+
+"He's sparkin' some gal, Miss Sue; dat's what ails him," she said one
+evening as she knelt on the sitting-room hearth to kindle the first
+fire of the season. "Dey ain't but two t'ings onder heaben dat'll keep
+a man f'om eatin'. One's a woman, t' other is lack ob food."
+
+Judge Hollis looked over his glasses and smiled.
+
+"Who do you think the lady is, Melvy?"
+
+Aunt Melvy wagged her head knowingly as she held a paper across the
+fireplace to start the blaze.
+
+"I ain't gwine tell no tales on Mist' Sandy. But yer can't fool dis
+heah ole nigger. I mind de signs; I knows mo' 'bout de young folks in
+dis heah town den dey t'ink I do. Fust t'ing you know, I'm gwine tell
+on some ob 'em, too. I 'spect de doctor would put' near die ef he
+knowed dat Miss Annette was a-havin' incandescent meetin's wif Carter
+Nelson 'most ever' day."
+
+"Is Sandy after Annette, too?"
+
+"No, sonny, no!" said Aunt Melvy, to whom all men were "sonny" until
+they died of old age. "Mist' Sandy he's aimin' at high game. He's
+fix' his eyeball on de shore-'nough quality."
+
+"Do you mean Ruth Nelson?" asked Mrs. Hollis, snapping her scissors
+sharply. "He surely wouldn't be fool enough to think she would look at
+him. Why, the Nelsons think they are the only aristocratic people that
+ever lived in Clayton. If they had paid less attention to their
+ancestors and more to their descendants, they might have had a better
+showing."
+
+"I nebber said it was Miss Rufe," said Aunt Melvy from the doorway;
+"but den ag'in I don't say hit ain't."
+
+"Well, I hope it's not," said the judge to his wife as he laid down
+his paper; "though I must say she is as pretty and friendly a girl as
+I ever saw. No matter how long she stays away, she is always glad to
+see everybody when she comes back. Some of old Evan's geniality must
+have come down to her."
+
+"Geniality!" cried Mrs. Hollis. "It was mint-juleps and brandy and
+soda. He was just as snobbish as the rest of them when he was sober.
+If she has any good in her, it's from her mother's side of the house."
+
+"I hope Sandy isn't interested there," went on the judge,
+thoughtfully. "It would not do him any good, and would spoil his taste
+for what he could get. How long has it been going on, Sue?"
+
+"He's been acting foolish for a month, but it gets worse all the time.
+He moons around the house, with his head in the clouds, and sits up
+half the night hanging out of his window. He has raked out all those
+silly old poetry-books of yours, and I find them strewn all over the
+house. Here's one now; look at those pencil-marks all round the
+margin!"
+
+"Some of the marks were there before," said the judge, as he read the
+title.
+
+"Then there are more fools than one in the world. Here is where he has
+turned down a leaf. Now just read that bosh and nonsense!"
+
+The judge took the book from her hand and read with a reminiscent
+smile:
+
+    "When cold in the earth lies the friend thou hast loved,
+      Be his faults and his follies forgot by thee then;
+    Or if from their slumber the veil be removed,
+      Weep o'er them in silence and close it again.
+    And, oh! if 't is pain to remember how far
+      From the pathway of light he was tempted to roam,
+    Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
+      That arose on his darkness and guided him home."
+
+The judge paused, with his eyes on the fire; then he said: "I think
+I'll wait up for the boy to-night, Sue. I want to tell him the good
+news myself. You haven't spoken of it?"
+
+"No, indeed. I haven't seen him since breakfast. Melvy says he spends
+his spare time on the river. That's what's giving him the malaria,
+too, you mark my words."
+
+It was after eleven when Sandy's step sounded on the porch. At the
+judge's call he opened the sitting-room door and stood dazed by the
+sudden light. The judge noticed that he was pale and dejected, and he
+suppressed a smile over the imaginary troubles of youth.
+
+"What's the matter? Are you sick?" he asked.
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Come in to the fire; it's a bit chilly these nights."
+
+Sandy dropped listlessly into a chair, with his back to the light.
+
+"There are several things I want to talk over," continued the judge.
+"One is about Ricks Wilson. He has behaved very badly ever since that
+affair in August. Everybody who goes near the jail comes away with
+reports of his threats against me. He seems to think I am holding his
+trial over until January, when the fact is I have been trying to get
+him released on your account. It is of no use, though; he will have to
+wait his turn."
+
+"I'm sorry, sir," said Sandy, without looking up.
+
+"Then there's Carter Nelson encouraging him in his feeling against
+me. It seems that Nelson wants the fellow to drive for him at the fall
+trots, and he has given me no end of trouble about getting him off.
+What an insolent fellow Nelson is! He talked very ugly in my office
+yesterday, and made various threats about making me regret any
+interference. I wouldn't have stood it from any one else; but Carter
+is hardly responsible. I have watched him from the time he was born.
+He came into the world with a mortal illness, and I doubt if he ever
+had a well day in his life. He's a degenerate, Sandy; he's bearing the
+sins of a long line of dissolute ancestors. We have to be patient with
+men like that; we have to look on them as we do on the insane."
+
+He waited for some response, but, getting none, pulled his chair in
+confidential proximity and laid his hand on Sandy's knee. "However,
+that's neither here nor there," he said. "I have a surprise for you. I
+couldn't let you go to bed without telling you about it. It's about
+your future, Sandy. I've been talking it over with Mr. Moseley, and he
+is confident--"
+
+Suddenly Sandy rose and stood by the table.
+
+"Don't be making any more plans for me," he said desperately; "I've
+made up me mind to enlist."
+
+"Enlist! In the army?"
+
+"Yes; I've got to get away. I must go so far that I can't come back;
+and, judge--I want to go to-morrow!"
+
+"Is it money matters?"
+
+A long silence followed--of the kind that ripens confidence. Presently
+Sandy lifted his haggard eyes: "It's nothing I'm ashamed of, judge; ye
+must take me word for that. It's like taking the heart out of me body
+to go, but I've made up me mind. Nothing on earth can change me
+purpose; I enlist on the morrow."
+
+The judge looked at him long and earnestly over his glasses, then he
+asked in calm, judicial tones: "Is her answer final?"
+
+Sandy started from his chair. How finite intelligence could have
+discovered the innermost secret of his soul seemed little short of
+miraculous. But the relief of being able to pour out his feelings
+mastered all other considerations.
+
+"Oh, sir, there was never a question. Like the angel she is, she let
+me be near her so long as I held my peace; but, fool that I am, I
+break me promise again and again. I can't keep silent when I see her.
+The truth would burst from me lips if I was dumb."
+
+"And you think you would be better if you were out of her sight?"
+
+"Is a starving man better when he is away from food?" asked Sandy,
+fiercely. "Heaven knows it's not of meself I'm thinking. It's breaking
+her tender heart to see me misery staring her in the face, and I'll
+put it out of her sight."
+
+"Is it Ruth?" asked the judge.
+
+Sandy assented with bowed head.
+
+The judge got up and stood before the fire.
+
+"Didn't you know," he began as kindly as he could put it, "that you
+were not in her--that is, that she was not of your--"
+
+Sandy lifted blazing eyes, hot with the passion of youth.
+
+"If she'd been in heaven and I'd been in hell, I'd have stretched out
+my arms to her still!"
+
+Something in his eyes, in his voice, in his intensity, brought the
+judge to his side.
+
+"How long has this thing been going on?" he asked seriously.
+
+"Four years!"
+
+"Before you came here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You followed her here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Whereupon the judge gave vent to the one profane word in his
+vocabulary.
+
+Then Sandy, having confided so far, made a clean breast of it,
+breaking down at the end when he tried to describe Ruth's goodness
+and the sorrow his misery had caused her.
+
+When it was over the judge had hold of his hand and was bestowing
+large, indiscriminate pats upon his head and shoulders.
+
+"It's hard luck, Sandy; hard luck. But you must brace up, boy.
+Everybody wants something in the world he can't get. We all go under,
+sooner or later, with some wish ungratified. Now I've always wanted--"
+he pressed his fingers on his lips for a moment, then went on--"the
+one thing I've wanted was a son. It seemed to me there was nothing
+else in the world would make up to me for that lack. I had money more
+than enough, and health and friends; but I wanted a boy. When you came
+I said to Sue: 'Let's keep him a while just to see how it would feel.'
+It's been worth while, Sandy; you have done me credit. It almost
+seemed as if the Lord didn't mean me to be disappointed, after all.
+And to-day, when Mr. Moseley said you ought to have a year or two at
+the big university, I said: 'Why not? He's just like my own. I'll send
+him this year and next, and then he can come home and be a comfort to
+me all the rest of my days.' That's what I was sitting up to tell you,
+Sandy; but now--"
+
+"And ye sha'n't be disappointed!" cried Sandy. "I'll go anywhere you
+say, do anything you wish. Only you wouldn't be asking me to stay
+here?"
+
+"Not now, Sandy; not for a while."
+
+"Never!--so long as she's here. I'll never bring me sorrow between her
+and the sun again-so help me, Heaven! And if the Lord gives me
+strength, I'll never see her face again, so long as I live!"
+
+"Go to bed, boy; go to bed. You are tired out. We will ship you off to
+the university next week."
+
+"Can't I be going to-morrow? Friday, then? I'd never dare trust meself
+over the week."
+
+"Friday, then. But mind, no more prancing to-night; we must both go to
+bed."
+
+Neither of them did so, however. Sandy went to his room and sat in
+his window, watching a tiny light that flickered, far across the
+valley, in the last bend of the river before it left the town. His
+muscles were tense, his nerves a-tingle, as he strained his eyes in
+the darkness to keep watch of the beacon. It was the last glimpse of
+home to a sailor who expected never to return.
+
+Down in the sitting-room the judge was lost in the pages of a worn old
+copy of Tom Moore. He fingered the pages with a tenderness of other
+days, and lingered over the forgotten lines with a half-quizzical,
+half-sad smile on his lips. For he had been a lover once, and Sandy's
+romance stirred dead leaves in his heart that sent up a faint perfume
+of memory.
+
+"Yes," he mused half aloud; "I marked that one too:
+
+    "Be it bliss to remember that thou wert the star
+       That arose on his darkness and guided him home."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE TRIALS OF AN ASSISTANT POSTMASTER
+
+
+By all laws of mercy the post-master in a small town should be old and
+mentally near-sighted. Jimmy Reed was young and curious. He had even
+yielded to temptation once in removing a stamp on a letter from
+Annette Fenton to a strange suitor. Not that he wanted to delay the
+letter. He only wanted to know if she put tender messages under the
+stamp when she wrote to other people.
+
+During the two years Sandy remained at the university, Jimmy handed
+his letters out of the post-office window to the judge once a week,
+following them half-way with his body to pick up the verbal crumbs of
+interest the judge might let fall while perusing them. The supremacy
+which Sandy had established in the base-ball days had lent him a
+permanent halo in the eyes of the younger boys of Clayton. "Letter
+from Sandy this morning," Jimmy would announce, adding somewhat
+anxiously, "Ain't he on the team yet?"
+
+The judge was obliging and easy-going, and he frequently gratified
+Jimmy's curiosity.
+
+"No; he's studying pretty hard these days. He says he is through with
+athletics."
+
+"Does he like it up there?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes; I guess he likes it well enough," the judge would
+answer tentatively; "but I am afraid he's working too hard."
+
+"Looks like a pity to spoil such a good pitcher," said Jimmy,
+thoughtfully. "I never saw him lose but one game, and that nearly
+killed him."
+
+"Disappointment goes hard with him," said the judge, and he sighed.
+
+Jimmy's chronic interest developed into acute curiosity the second
+winter--about the time the Nelsons returned to Clayton after a long
+absence.
+
+On Thanksgiving morning he found two letters bearing his hero's
+handwriting. One was to Judge Hollis and one to Miss Ruth Nelson. The
+next week there were also two, both of which went to Miss Nelson.
+After that it became a regular occurrence.
+
+Jimmy recognized two letters a week from one person to one person as a
+danger-signal. His curiosity promptly rose to fever-heat. He even went
+so far as to weigh the letters, and roughly to calculate the number of
+pages in each. Once or twice he felt something hard inside, and upon
+submitting the envelop to his nose, he distinguished the faint
+fragrance of pressed flowers. It was perhaps a blessing in disguise
+that the duty of sorting the outgoing mail did not fall to his lot.
+One added bit of information would have resulted in spontaneous
+combustion.
+
+By and by letters came daily, their weight increasing until they
+culminated, about Christmas-time, in a special-delivery letter which
+bristled under the importance of its extra stamp.
+
+The same morning the telegraph operator stopped in to ask if the
+Nelsons had been in for their mail. "I have a message for Miss Nelson,
+but I thought they started for California this morning."
+
+"It's to-morrow morning they go," said Jimmy. "I'll send the message
+out. I've got a special letter for her, and they can both go out by
+the same boy."
+
+When the operator had gone, Jimmy promptly unfolded the yellow slip,
+which was innocent of envelop.
+
+     Do not read special-delivery letter. Will explain.
+
+     S.K.
+
+For some time he sat with the letter in one hand and the message in
+the other. Why had Sandy written that huge letter if he did not want
+her to read it? Why didn't he want her to read it? Questions buzzed
+about him like bees.
+
+Large ears are said to be indicative of an inquisitive nature. Jimmy's
+stood out like the handles on a loving-cup. With all this explosive
+material bottled up in him, he felt like a torpedo-boat deprived of
+action.
+
+After a while he got up and went into the drug-store next door. When
+he came back he made sure he was alone in the office. Then he propped
+up the lid of his desk with the top of his head, in a manner acquired
+at school, and hiding behind this improvised screen, he carefully took
+from his pocket a small bottle of gasolene. Pouring a little on his
+handkerchief, he applied it to the envelop of the special-delivery
+letter.
+
+As if by magic, the words within showed through; and by frequent
+applications of the liquid the engrossed Jimmy deciphered the
+following:
+
+     --like the moan of the sea in my heart, and it will not be still.
+     Heart, body, and soul will call to you, Ruth, so long as the
+     breath is in my body. I have not the courage to be your friend.
+     I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor
+     write you again. God bless you,  my--
+
+A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette
+Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited.
+
+"Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught
+eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't
+you want to do something for me?"
+
+Jimmy had spent his entire youth in urging her to accept everything
+that was his, and he hailed this as a good omen.
+
+"I have a l-letter here for dad," she went on, fidgeting about
+uneasily and watching the door. "I don't want him to g-get it until
+after the last train goes to-night. Will you see that he d-doesn't get
+it before nine o'clock?"
+
+Jimmy took the letter and looked blankly from it to Annette.
+
+"Why, it's from you!"
+
+"What if it is, you b-booby?" she cried sharply; then she changed her
+tactics and looked up appealingly through the little square window.
+
+"Oh, Jimmy, do help me out! That's a d-dear! I'm in no end of a
+scrape. You'll do as I ask, now w-w-won't you?"
+
+Jimmy surrendered on the spot.
+
+"Now," said Annette, greatly relieved, "find out what time the d-down
+train starts, and if it's on time."
+
+"It ought to start at three," reported Jimmy after consulting the
+telegraph operator. "It's an hour late on account of the snow.
+Expecting somebody?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Going to the city yourself?"
+
+"Of course not. Whatever made you think that?" she cried with
+unnecessary vehemence. Then, changing the subject abruptly, she added:
+"G-guess who has come home?"
+
+"Who?" cried Jimmy, with palpitating ears.
+
+"Sandy Kilday. You never saw anybody look so g-grand. He's gotten to
+be a regular swell, and he walks like this."
+
+Annette held her umbrella horizontally, squared her shoulders, and
+swung bravely across the room.
+
+"Sandy Kilday?" gasped Jimmy, with a clutch at the letter in his
+pocket. "Where's he at?"
+
+"He's trying to get up from the d-depot. He has been an hour coming
+two squares. Everybody has stopped him, from Mr. Moseley on down to
+the b-blacksmith's twins."
+
+"Is he coming this way?" asked Jimmy, wild-eyed and anxious.
+
+Annette stepped to the window.
+
+"Yes; they are crossing the street now." She opened the sash and,
+snatching a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball, which she sailed
+out of the window. It was promptly answered by one from below, which
+whirled past her and shattered itself against the wall.
+
+"Dare, dare, double dare!" she called as she flung handfuls of loose
+snow from the window-ledge. A quick volley of balls followed, then
+the door burst open. Sandy and Ruth Nelson stood laughing on the
+threshold.
+
+"Hello, partner!" sang out Sandy to Jimmy. "Still at the old work, I
+see! Do you mind how you taught me to count the change when I first
+sold stamps?"
+
+Jimmy tried to smile, but his effort was a failure. The interesting
+tangle of facts and circumstances faded from his mind, and he resorted
+instinctively to nature's first law. With an agitated countenance, he
+sought self-preservation by waving Sandy's letter behind him in a
+frantic effort to banish, if possible, the odor of his guilt.
+
+Sandy stayed at the door with Annette, but Ruth came to the window and
+asked for her mail. When she smiled at the contrite Jimmy she
+scattered the few remaining ideas that lingered in his brain. With
+crimson face and averted eyes, he handed her the letter, forgetting
+that telegrams existed.
+
+He saw her send a quick, puzzled glance from the letter to Sandy; he
+saw her turn away from the door and tear open the envelop; then, to
+his everlasting credit, he saw no more.
+
+When he ventured forth from behind his desk the office was empty. He
+made a cautious survey of the premises; then, opening a back window,
+he seized a small bottle by the neck and hurled it savagely against
+the brick wall opposite.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+THE IRONY OF CHANCE
+
+
+The snow, which had begun as an insignificant flurry in the morning,
+developed into a storm by afternoon.
+
+Four miles from town, in a dreary stretch of country, a
+dejected-looking object tramped along the railroad-track. His hat was
+pulled over his eyes and his hands were thrust in his pockets. Now and
+again he stopped, listened, and looked at his watch.
+
+It was Sandy Kilday, and he was waiting for the freight-train with the
+fixed intention of committing suicide.
+
+The complications arising from Jimmy Reed's indiscretion had resulted
+disastrously. When Sandy found that Ruth had read his letter, his
+common sense took flight. Instead of a supplicant, he became an
+invader, and stormed the citadel with such hot-headed passion and
+fervor that Ruth fled in affright to the innermost chamber of her
+maidenhood, and there, barred and barricaded, withstood the siege.
+
+His one desire in life now was to quit it. He felt as if he had read
+his death-warrant, and it was useless ever again to open his eyes on
+this gray, impossible world.
+
+He did not know how far he had come. Everything about him was strange
+and unfriendly: the woods had turned to gaunt and gloomy skeletons
+that shivered and moaned in the wind; the sunny fields of ragweed were
+covered with a pall; and the river--his dancing, singing river--was a
+black and sullen stream that closed remorselessly over the dying
+snowflakes. His woods, his fields, his river,--they knew him not; he
+stared at them blankly and they stared back at him.
+
+A rabbit, frightened at his approach, jumped out of the bushes and
+went bounding down the track ahead of him. The sight of the round
+little cottontail leaping from tie to tie brought a momentary
+diversion; but he did not want to be diverted.
+
+With an effort he came back to his stern purpose. He forced himself to
+face the facts and the future. What did it matter if he was only
+twenty-one, with his life before him? What satisfaction was it to have
+won first honors at the university? There was but one thing in the
+world that made life worth living, and that was denied him. Perhaps
+after he was gone she would love him.
+
+This thought brought remarkable consolation. He pictured to himself
+her remorse when she heard the tragic news. He attended in spirit his
+own funeral, and even saw her tears fall upon his still face.
+Meanwhile he listened impatiently for the train.
+
+Instead of the distant rumble of the cars, he heard on the road below
+the sound of a horse's hoofs, quickly followed by voices. Slipping
+behind the embankment, he waited for the vehicle to pass. The horse
+was evidently walking, and the voices came to him distinctly.
+
+"I'm not a coward--any s-such thing! We oughtn't to have c-come, in
+the first place. I can't go with you. Please turn round,
+C-Carter,--please!"
+
+There was no mistaking that high, childlike voice, with its faltering
+speech.
+
+Sandy's gloomy frown narrowed to a scowl. What business had Annette
+out there in the storm? Where was she going with Carter Nelson?
+
+He quickened his steps to keep within sight of the slow-moving buggy.
+
+"There's nothing out this road but the Junction," he thought, trying
+to collect his wits. "Could they be taking the train there? He goes to
+California in the morning, but where's he taking Nettie to-day? And
+she didn't want to be going, either; didn't I hear her say it with her
+own lips?"
+
+He moved cautiously forward, now running a few paces to keep up, now
+crouching behind the bushes. Every sense was keenly alert; his eyes
+never left the buggy for a moment.
+
+When the freight thundered up the grade, he stepped mechanically to
+one side, keeping a vigilant eye on the couple ahead, and begrudging
+the time he lost while the train went by. It was not until an hour
+later that he remembered he had forgotten to commit suicide.
+
+Stepping back on the ties, he hurried forward. He was convinced now
+that they meant to take the down train which would pass the Clayton
+train at the Junction in half an hour. Something must be done to save
+Annette. The thought of her in the city, at the mercy of the
+irresponsible Carter, sent him running down the track. He waited until
+he was slightly in advance before he descended abruptly upon them.
+
+Annette was sitting very straight, talking excitedly, and Carter was
+evidently trying to reassure her.
+
+As Sandy plunged down the embankment, they started apart, and Carter
+reached for the whip. Before he could urge the horse forward, Sandy
+had swung himself lightly to the step of the buggy, and was leaning
+back against the dash-board. He looked past Carter to Annette. She was
+making a heroic effort to look unconcerned and indifferent, but her
+eyelids were red, and her handkerchief was twisted into a damp little
+string about her fingers. Sandy wasted no time in diplomacy; he struck
+straight out from the shoulder.
+
+"If it's doing something you don't want to, you don't have to, Nettie.
+I'm here."
+
+Carter stopped his horse.
+
+"Will you get down?" he demanded angrily.
+
+"After you," said Sandy.
+
+Carter measured his man, then stepped to the ground. Sandy promptly
+followed.
+
+"And now," said Carter, "you'll perhaps be good enough to explain what
+you mean."
+
+Sandy still kept his hand on the buggy and his eyes on Annette; when
+he spoke it was to her.
+
+"If it's your wish to go on, say the word."
+
+The tearful young person in the buggy looked very limp and miserable,
+but declined to make any remarks.
+
+"Miss Fenton and I expect to be married this evening," said Carter,
+striving for dignity, though his breath came short with excitement.
+"We take the train in twenty minutes. Your interference is not only
+impudent--it's useless. I know perfectly well who sent you: it was
+Judge Hollis. He was the only man we met after we left town. Just
+return to him, with my compliments, and tell him I say he is a meddler
+and a fool!"
+
+"Annette," said Sandy, softly, coming toward her, "the doctor'll be
+wanting his coffee by now."
+
+"Let me pass," cried Carter, "you common hound! Take your foot off
+that step or I'll--" He made a quick motion toward his hip, and Sandy
+caught his hand as it closed on a pearl-handled revolver.
+
+"None of that, man! I'll be going when I have her word. Is it good-by,
+Annette? Must I be taking the word to your father that you've left him
+now and for always? Yes? Then a shake of the hand for old times'
+sake."
+
+Annette slipped a cold little hand into his free one, and feeling the
+solid grasp of his broad palm, she clung to it as a drowning man
+clings to a spar.
+
+"I can't go!" she cried, in a burst of tears. "I can't leave dad this
+way! Make him take me b-back, Sandy! I want to go home!"
+
+Carter stood very still and white. His thin body was trembling from
+head to foot, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whip-cord.
+He clenched his hands in an effort to control himself. At Annette's
+words he stepped aside with elaborate courtesy.
+
+"You are at perfect liberty to go with Mr. Kilday. All I ask is that
+he will meet me as soon as we get back to town."
+
+"I can't go b-back on the train!" cried Annette, with a glance at her
+bags and boxes. "Every one would suspect something if I did. Oh, why
+d-did I come?"
+
+"My buggy is at your disposal," said Carter; "perhaps your
+disinterested friend, Mr. Kilday, could be persuaded to drive you
+back."
+
+"But, Carter," cried Annette, in quick dismay, "you must come, too.
+I'll bring dad r-round; I always do. Then we can be married at home,
+and I can have a veil and a r-ring and presents."
+
+She smiled at him coaxingly, but he folded his arms and scowled.
+
+"You go with me to the city, or you go back to Clayton with him. You
+have just three minutes to make up your mind."
+
+[Illustration: "Sandy saw her waver"]
+
+Sandy saw her waver. The first minute she looked at him, the second at
+Carter. He took no chances on the third. With a quick bound, he was
+in the buggy and turning the horse homeward.
+
+"But I've decided to go with Carter!" cried Annette, hysterically.
+"Turn b-back, Sandy! I've changed my mind."
+
+"Change it again," advised Sandy as he laid the whip gently across the
+horse's back.
+
+Carter Nelson flung furiously off to catch the train for town, while
+the would-be bride shed bitter tears on the shoulder of the would-be
+suicide.
+
+The snow fell faster and faster, and the gray day deepened to dusk.
+For a long time they drove along in silence, both busy with their own
+thoughts.
+
+Suddenly they were lurched violently forward as the horse shied at
+something in the bushes. Sandy leaned forward in time to see a figure
+on all fours plunging back into the shrubbery.
+
+"Annette," he whispered excitedly, "did you see that man's face?"
+
+"Yes," she said, clinging to his arm; "don't leave me, Sandy!"
+
+"What did he look like? Tell me, quick!"
+
+"He had little eyes like shoe-buttons, and his teeth stuck out. Do you
+suppose he was hiding?"
+
+"It was Ricks Wilson, or I am a blind man!" cried Sandy, standing up
+in the buggy and straining his eyes in the darkness.
+
+"Why, he's in jail!"
+
+"May I never trust me two eyes to speak the truth again if that wasn't
+Ricks!"
+
+When they started they found that the harness was broken, and all
+efforts to fix it were in vain.
+
+"It's half-past five now," cried Annette. "If I don't get home
+b-before dad, he'll have out the fire department."
+
+"There's a farm-house a good way back," said Sandy; "but it's too far
+for you to walk. Will you be waiting here in the buggy until I go for
+help?"
+
+"Well, I guess not!" said Annette, indignantly.
+
+Sandy looked at the round baby face beside him and laughed. "It's not
+one of meself that blames you," he said; "but how are we ever to get
+home?"
+
+Annette was not without resources.
+
+"What's the matter with riding the horse b-back to the farm?"
+
+"And you?" asked Sandy.
+
+"I'll ride behind."
+
+They became hilarious over the mounting, for the horse bitterly
+resented a double burden.
+
+When he found he could not dispose of it he made a dash for freedom,
+and raced over the frozen road at such a pace that they were soon at
+their destination.
+
+"He won the handicap," laughed Sandy as he lifted his disheveled
+companion to the ground.
+
+"It was glorious!" cried Annette, gathering up her flying locks. "I
+lost every hair-pin but one."
+
+At the farm-house they met with a warm reception.
+
+"Jes step right in the kitchen," said the farmer. "Mommer'll take
+care of you while I go out to the stable for some rope and another
+hoss."
+
+The kitchen was a big, cheerful room, full of homely comfort. Bright
+red window-curtains were drawn against the cold white world outside,
+and the fire crackled merrily in the stove.
+
+Sandy and Annette stood, holding out their hands to the friendly
+warmth. She was watching with interest the preparations for supper,
+but he had grown silent and preoccupied.
+
+The various diversions of the afternoon had acted as a temporary
+narcotic, through which he struggled again and again to wretched
+consciousness. A surge of contempt swept over him that he could have
+forgotten for a moment. He did not want to forget; he did not want to
+think of anything else.
+
+"They smell awfully g-good," whispered Annette.
+
+"What?"
+
+"The hoe-cakes. I didn't have any dinner."
+
+"Neither did I."
+
+Annette looked up quickly. "What were you d-doing out there on the
+track, Sandy?"
+
+The farmer's wife fortunately came to the rescue.
+
+"Hitch up yer cheers, you two, and take a little snack afore you go
+out in the cold ag'in."
+
+Annette promptly accepted, but Sandy declared that he was not hungry.
+He went to the window and, pulling back the curtain, stared out into
+the night. Was all the rest of life going to be like this? Was that
+restless, nervous, intolerable pain going to gnaw at his heart
+forever?
+
+Meanwhile the savory odor of the hoe-cakes floated over his shoulder
+and bits of the conversation broke in upon him.
+
+"Aw, take two or three and butter 'em while they are hot. Long
+sweetening or short?"
+
+"Both," said Annette. "I never tasted anything so g-good. Sandy,
+what's the matter with you? I never saw you when you weren't hungry
+b-before. Look! Won't you try this s-sizzly one?"
+
+Sandy looked and was lost. He ate with a coming appetite.
+
+The farmer's wife served them with delighted zeal; she made trip after
+trip from the stove to the table, pausing frequently to admire her
+guests.
+
+"I've had six," said Annette; "do you suppose I'll have time for
+another one?"
+
+"Lemme give you _both_ a clean plate and some pie," suggested the
+eager housewife.
+
+Sandy looked at her and smiled.
+
+"I'll take the clean plate," he said, "and--and more hoe-cakes."
+
+When the farmer returned, and they rode back to the buggy, Annette
+developed a sudden fever of impatience. She fidgeted about while the
+men patched up the harness, and delayed their progress by her fire of
+questions.
+
+After they started, Sandy leaned back in the buggy, lost in the fog
+of his unhappiness. Off in the distance he could see the twinkling
+lights of Clayton. One was apart from the rest; that was Willowvale.
+
+A sob aroused him. Annette, left to herself, had collapsed. He
+patiently put forth a fatherly hand and patted her shoulder.
+
+"There, there, Nettie! You'll be all right in the morning."
+
+"I won't!" she declared petulantly. "You don't know anything ab-b-bout
+being in love."
+
+Sandy surveyed her with tolerant sadness. Little her childish heart
+knew of the depths through which he was passing.
+
+"Do you love him very much?" he asked.
+
+She nodded violently. "Better than any b-boy I was ever engaged to."
+
+"He's not worth it."
+
+"He is!"
+
+A strained silence, then he said:
+
+"Nettie, could you be forgiving me if I told you the Lord's truth?"
+
+"Don't you suppose dad's kept me p-posted about his faults? Why, he
+would walk a mile to find out something b-bad about Carter Nelson."
+
+"He wouldn't have to. Nelson's a bad lot, Nettie. It isn't all his
+fault; it's the price he pays for his blue blood. Your father's the
+wise man to try to keep you from being his wife."
+
+"Everyb-body's down on him," she sobbed, "just because he has to
+d-drink sometimes on account of his lungs. I didn't know you were so
+mean."
+
+"Will you pass the word not to see him again before he leaves in the
+morning?"
+
+"Indeed, I won't!"
+
+Sandy stopped the horse. "Then I'll wait till you do."
+
+She tried to take the lines, but he held her hands. Then she declared
+she would walk. He helped her out of the buggy and watched her start
+angrily forth. In a few minutes she came rushing back.
+
+"Sandy, you know I can't g-go by myself; I am afraid. Take me home."
+
+"And you promise?"
+
+She looked appealingly at him, but found no mercy. "You are the very
+m-meanest boy I ever knew. Get me home before d-dad finds out, and
+I'll promise anything. But this is the last word I'll ever s-speak to
+you as long as I live."
+
+At half-past seven they drove into town. The streets were full of
+people and great excitement prevailed.
+
+"They've found out about me!" wailed Annette, breaking her long
+silence. "Oh, Sandy, what m-must I do?"
+
+Sandy looked anxiously about him. He knew that an elopement would not
+cause the present commotion. "Jimmy!" He leaned out of the buggy and
+called to a boy who was running past. "Jimmy Reed! What's the matter?"
+
+Jimmy, breathless and hatless, his whole figure one huge
+question-mark, exploded like a bunch of fire-crackers.
+
+"That you, Sandy? Ricks Wilson's broke jail and shot Judge Hollis. It
+was at half-past five. Dr. Fenton's been out there ever since. They
+say the judge can't live till midnight. We're getting up a crowd to go
+after Wilson."
+
+At the first words Sandy had sprung to his feet. "The judge shot!
+Ricks Wilson! I'll kill him for that. Get out, Annette. I must go to
+the judge. I'll be out to the farm in no time and back in less. Don't
+you be letting them start without me, Jimmy."
+
+Whipping the already jaded horse to a run, he dashed through the
+crowded streets, over the bridge, and out the turnpike.
+
+Ruth stood at one of the windows at Willowvale, peering anxiously out
+into the darkness. Her figure showed distinctly against the light of
+the room behind her, but Sandy did not see her.
+
+His soul was in a wild riot of grief and revenge. Two thoughts tore at
+his brain: one was to see the judge before he died, and the other was
+to capture Ricks Wilson.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+IN THE DARK
+
+
+An ominous stillness hung over Hollis farm as Sandy ran up the avenue.
+The night was dark, but the fallen snow gave a half-mysterious light
+to the quiet scene.
+
+He stepped on the porch with a sinking heart. In the dimly lighted
+hall Mr. Moseley and Mr. Meech kept silent watch, their faces grave
+with apprehension. Without stopping to speak to them, Sandy hurried to
+the door of the judge's room. Before he could turn the knob, Dr.
+Fenton opened it softly and, putting his finger on his lips, came out,
+cautiously closing the door behind him.
+
+"You can't go in," he whispered; "the slightest excitement might
+finish him. He's got one chance in a hundred, boy; we've got to nurse
+it."
+
+"Does he know?"
+
+"Never has known a thing since the bullet hit him. He was coming into
+the sitting-room when Wilson fired through the window."
+
+"The black-hearted murderer!" cried Sandy. "I could swear I saw him
+hiding in the bushes between here and the Junction."
+
+The doctor threw a side glance at Mr. Meech, then said significantly:
+
+"Have they started?"
+
+"Not yet. If there's nothing I can do for the judge, I'm going with
+them."
+
+"That's right. I'd go, too, if I were not needed here. Wait a minute,
+Sandy." His face looked old and worn. "Have you happened to see my
+Nettie since noon?"
+
+"That I have, doctor. She was driving with me, and the harness broke.
+She's home now."
+
+"Thank God!" cried the doctor. "I thought it was Nelson."
+
+Sandy passed through the dining-room and was starting up the steps
+when he heard his name spoken.
+
+"Mist' Sandy! 'Fore de Lawd, where you been at? Oh, we been habin' de
+terriblest times! My pore old mas'r done been shot down wifout bein'
+notified or nuthin'. Pray de Lawd he won't die! I knowed somepin' was
+gwine happen. I had a division jes 'fore daybreak; dey ain't no luck
+worser den to dream 'bout a tooth fallin' out. Oh, Lordy! Lordy! I
+hope he ain't gwine die!"
+
+"Hush, Aunt Melvy! Where's Mrs. Hollis?"
+
+"She's out in de kitchen, heatin' water an' waitin' on de doctor. She
+won't let me do nuthin'. Seems lak workin' sorter lets off her
+feelin's. Pore Miss Sue!" She threw her apron over her head and swayed
+and sobbed.
+
+As Sandy tried to pass, she stopped him again, and after looking
+furtively around she fumbled in her pocket for something which she
+thrust into his hand.
+
+"Hit's de pistol!" she whispered. "I's skeered to give it to nobody
+else, 'ca'se I's skeered dey'd try me for a witness. He done drap it
+'longside de kitchen door. You won't let on I found it, honey? You
+won't tell nobody?"
+
+He reassured her, and hastened to his room. Lighting his lamp, he
+hurriedly changed his coat for a heavier, and was starting in hot
+haste for the door when his eyes fell upon the pistol, which he had
+laid on the table.
+
+It was a fine, pearl-handled revolver, thirty-eight caliber. He looked
+at it closer, then stared blankly at the floor. He had seen it before
+that afternoon.
+
+"Why, Carter must have given Ricks the pistol," he thought. "But
+Carter was out at the Junction. What time did it happen?"
+
+He sat on the side of the bed and, pressing his hands to his temples,
+tried to force the events to take their proper sequence.
+
+"I don't know when I left town," he thought, with a shudder; "it must
+have been nearly four when I met Carter and Annette. He took the train
+back. Yes, he would have had time to help Ricks. But I saw Ricks out
+the turnpike. It was half-past five, I remember now. The doctor said
+the judge was shot at a quarter of six."
+
+A startled look of comprehension flashed over his face. He sprang to
+his feet and tramped up and down the small room.
+
+"I know I saw Ricks," he thought, his brain seething with excitement.
+"Annette saw him, too; she described him. He couldn't have even driven
+back in that time."
+
+He stopped again and stood staring intently before him. Then he took
+the lamp and slipped down the back stairs and out the side door.
+
+The snow was trampled about the window and for some space beyond it.
+The tracks had been followed to the river, the eager searchers keeping
+well away from the tell-tale footsteps in order not to obliterate
+them. Sandy knelt in the snow and held his lamp close to the single
+trail. The print was narrow and long and ended in a tapering toe.
+Ricks's broad foot would have covered half the space again. He jumped
+to his feet and started for the house, then turned back irresolute.
+
+When he entered his little room again the slender footprints had been
+effaced. He put the lamp on the bureau, and looked vacantly about him.
+On the cushion was pinned a note. He recognized Ruth's writing, and
+opened it mechanically.
+
+There were only three lines:
+
+     I must see you again before I leave. Be sure to come to-night.
+
+The words scarcely carried a meaning to him. It was her brother that
+had shot the judge--the brother whom she had defended and protected
+all her life. It would kill her when she knew. And he, Sandy Kilday,
+was the only one who suspected the truth. A momentary temptation
+seized him to hold his peace; if Ricks were caught, it would be time
+enough to tell what he knew; if he escaped, one more stain on his name
+might not matter.
+
+But Carter, the coward, where was he? It was his place to speak. Would
+he let Ricks bear his guilt and suffer the blame? Such burning rage
+against him rose in Sandy that he paced the room in fury.
+
+Then he re-read Ruth's note and again he hesitated. What a heaven of
+promise it opened to him! Ruth was probably waiting for him now.
+Everything might be different when he saw her again.
+
+All his life he had followed the current; the easy way was his way,
+and he came back to it again and again. His thoughts shifted and
+formed and shifted again like the bits of color in a kaleidoscope.
+
+Presently his restless eyes fell on an old chromo hanging over the
+mantel. It represented the death-bed of Washington. The dying figure
+on the bed recalled that other figure down-stairs. In an instant all
+the floating forms in his brain assumed one shape and held it.
+
+The judge must be his first consideration. He had been shot down
+without cause, and might pay his life for it. There was but one thing
+to do: to find the real culprit, give him up, and take the
+consequences.
+
+Slipping the note in one pocket and the revolver in another, he
+hurried down-stairs.
+
+On the lowest step he found Mrs. Hollis sitting in the dark. Her hands
+were locked around her knees, and hard, dry sobs shook her body.
+
+In an instant he was down beside her, his arms about her. "He isn't
+dead?" he whispered fearfully.
+
+Mrs. Hollis shook her head. "He hasn't moved an inch or spoken since
+we put him on the bed. Are you going with the men?"
+
+"I'm going to town now," said Sandy, evasively.
+
+She rose and caught him by the arm. Her eyes were fierce with
+vindictiveness.
+
+"Don't let them stop till they've caught him, Sandy. I hope they will
+hang him to-night!"
+
+A movement in the sick-room called her within, and Sandy hurried out
+to the buggy, which was still standing at the gate.
+
+He lighted the lantern and, throwing the robe across his knees,
+started for town. The intense emotional strain under which he had
+labored since noon, together with fatigue, was beginning to play
+tricks with his nerves. Twice he pulled in his horse, thinking he
+heard voices in the wood. The third time he stopped and got out. At
+infrequent intervals a groan broke the stillness.
+
+He climbed the snake-fence and beat about among the bushes. The groan
+came again, and he followed the sound.
+
+At the foot of a tall beech-tree a body was lying face downward. He
+held his lantern above his head and bent over it. It was a man, and,
+as he tried to turn him over, he saw a slight red stain on the snow
+beneath his mouth. The figure, thus roused, stirred and tried to sit
+up. As he did so, the light from Sandy's lantern fell full on the
+dazed and swollen face of Carter Nelson. The two faced each other for
+a space, then Sandy asked him sharply what he did there.
+
+"I don't know," said Carter, weakly, sinking back against the tree.
+"I'm sick. Get me some whisky."
+
+"Wake up!" said Sandy, shaking him roughly. "This is Kilday--Sandy
+Kilday."
+
+Carter's eyes were still closed, but his lip curled contemptuously.
+"_Mr._ Kilday," he said, and smiled scornfully. "The least said about
+_Mr._ Kilday the better."
+
+Sandy laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Nelson, listen! Do you remember going out to the Junction with
+Annette Fenton?"
+
+"That's nobody's business but mine. I'll shoot the--"
+
+"Do you remember coming home on the train?"
+
+Carter's stupid, heavy eyes were on Sandy now, and he was evidently
+trying to understand what he was saying. "Home on the train? Yes; I
+came home on train."
+
+"And afterward?" demanded Sandy, kneeling before him and looking
+intently in his eyes.
+
+"Gus Heyser's saloon, and then--"
+
+"And then?" repeated Sandy.
+
+Carter shook his head and looked about him bewildered.
+
+"Where am I now I What did you bring me here for?"
+
+"Look me straight, Nelson," said Sandy. "Don't you move your eyes. You
+left Gus Heyser's and came out the pike to the Hollis farm, didn't
+you?"
+
+"Hollis farm?" Carter repeated vaguely. "No; I didn't go there."
+
+"You went up to the window and waited. Don't you remember the snow on
+the ground and the light inside the window?"
+
+Carter seemed struggling to remember, but his usually sensitive face
+was vacant and perplexed.
+
+Sandy moved nearer. "You waited there by the window," he went on with
+subdued excitement, for the hope was high in his heart that Carter
+was innocent. "You waited ever so long, until a pistol was fired--"
+
+"Yes," broke in Carter, his lips apart; "a pistol-shot close to my
+head! It woke me up. I ran before they could shoot me again. Where was
+it--Gus Heyser's? What am I doing here?"
+
+For answer Sandy pulled Carter's revolver from his pocket. "Did you
+have that this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes," said Carter, a troubled look coming into his eyes. "Where did
+you get it, Kilday?"
+
+"It was found outside Judge Hollis's window after he had been shot."
+
+"Judge Hollis shot! Who did it?"
+
+Sandy again looked at the pistol.
+
+"My God, man!" cried Carter; "you don't mean that I--" He cowered back
+against the tree and shook from head to foot. "Kilday!" he cried
+presently, seizing Sandy by the wrist with his long, delicate hands,
+"does any one else know?"
+
+Sandy shook his head.
+
+"Then I must get away; you must help me. I didn't know what I was
+doing. I don't know now what I have done. Is he--"
+
+"He's not dead yet."
+
+Carter struggled to his feet, but a terrible attack of coughing seized
+him, and he sank back exhausted. The handkerchief which he held to his
+mouth was red with blood.
+
+Sandy stretched him out on the snow, where he lay for a while with
+closed eyes. He was very white, and his lips twitched convulsively.
+
+A vehicle passed out the road, and Sandy started up. He must take some
+decisive step at once. The men were probably waiting in the square for
+him now. He must stop them at any cost.
+
+Carter opened his eyes, and the terror returned to them.
+
+"Don't give me up, Kilday!" he cried, trying to rise. "I'll pay you
+anything you ask. It was the drink. I didn't know what I was doing.
+For the Lord's sake, don't give me up! I haven't long to live at
+best. I can't disgrace the family. I--I am the last of the line--last
+Nelson--" His voice was high and uncontrolled, and his eyes were
+glassy and fixed.
+
+Sandy stood before him in an agony of indecision. He had fought it out
+with himself there in his bedroom, and all personal considerations
+were swept from his mind. All he wanted now was to do right. But what
+was right? He groped blindly about in the darkness of his soul, and no
+guiding light showed him the way.
+
+With a groan, he knotted his fingers together and prayed the first
+real prayer his heart had ever uttered. It was wordless and formless,
+just an inarticulate cry for help in the hour of need.
+
+The answer came when he looked again at Carter. Something in the
+frenzied face brought a sudden recollection to his mind.
+
+"We can't judge him by usual standards; he's bearing the sins of his
+fathers. We have to look on men like that as we do on the insane."
+They were the judge's own words.
+
+Sandy jumped to his feet, and, helping and half supporting Carter,
+persuaded him to go out to the buggy, promising that he would not give
+him up.
+
+At the Willowvale gate he led the horse into the avenue, then turned
+and ran at full speed into town. As he came into the square he found
+only a few groups shivering about the court-house steps, discussing
+the events of the day.
+
+"Where's the crowd?" he cried breathless. "Aren't they going to start
+from here?"
+
+An old negro pulled off his cap and grinned.
+
+"Dey been gone purty near an hour, Mist' Sandy. I 'spec' dey's got dat
+low-down rascal hanged by now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+AT WILLOWVALE
+
+
+There was an early tea at Willowvale that evening, and Ruth sat at the
+big round table alone. Mrs. Nelson always went to bed when the time
+came for packing, and Carter was late, as usual.
+
+Ruth was glad to be alone. She had passed through too much to be able
+to banish all trace of the storm. But though her eyes were red from
+recent tears, they were bright with anticipation. Sandy was coming
+back. That fact seemed to make everything right.
+
+She leaned her chin on her palm and tried to still the beating of her
+heart. She knew he would come. Irresponsible, hot-headed, impulsive
+as he was, he had never failed her. She glanced impatiently at the
+clock.
+
+"Miss Rufe, was you ever in love?" It was black Rachel who broke in
+upon her thoughts. She was standing at the foot of the table, her
+round, good-humored face comically serious.
+
+"No-yes. Why, Rachel?" stammered Ruth.
+
+"I was just axin'," said Rachel, "'cause if you been in love, you'd
+know how to read a love-letter, wouldn't you, Miss Rufe?"
+
+Ruth smiled and nodded.
+
+"I got one from my beau," went on Rachel, in great embarrassment; "but
+dat nigger knows I can't read."
+
+"Where does he live?" asked Ruth.
+
+"Up in Injianapolis. He drives de hearse."
+
+Ruth suppressed a smile. "I'll read the love-letter for you," she
+said.
+
+Rachel sat down on the floor and began taking down her hair. It was
+divided into many tight braids, each of which was wrapped with a bit
+of shoe-string. From under the last one she took a small envelope and
+handed it to Ruth.
+
+"Dat's it," she said. "I was so skeered I'd lose it I didn't trust it
+no place 'cept in my head."
+
+Ruth unfolded the note and read:
+
+     "DEAR RACHEL: I mean biznis if you mean biznis send me fore
+     dollars to git a devorce.
+
+     "_George_."
+
+Rachel sat on the floor, with her hair standing out wildly and anxiety
+deepening on her face.
+
+"I ain't got but three dollars," she said.
+
+"I was gwine to buy my weddin' dress wif dat."
+
+"But, Rachel," protested Ruth, in laughing remonstrance, "he has one
+wife."
+
+"Yes,'m. Pete Lawson ain't got no wife; but he ain't got but one arm,
+neither. Whicht one would you take, Miss Rufe?"
+
+"Pete," declared Ruth. "He's a good boy, what there is of him."
+
+"Well, I guess I better notify him to-night," sighed Rachel; but she
+held the love-letter on her knee and regretfully smoothed its crumpled
+edges.
+
+Ruth pushed back her chair from the table and crossed the wide hall to
+the library.
+
+It was a large room, with heavy wainscoting, above which simpered or
+frowned a long row of her ancestors.
+
+She stepped before the one nearest her and looked at it long and
+earnestly. The face carried no memory with it, though it was her
+father. It was the portrait of a handsome man in uniform, in the full
+bloom of a dissipated youth. Her mother had seldom spoken of him, and
+when she did her eyes filled with tears.
+
+A few feet farther away hung a portrait of her grandfather, brave in a
+high stock and ruffled shirt, the whole light of a bibulous past
+radiating from the crimson tip of his incriminating nose.
+
+Next him hung Aunt Elizabeth, supercilious, arrogant, haughty. Ruth
+recalled a tragic day of her past when she was sent to bed for
+climbing upon the piano and pasting a stamp on the red-painted lips.
+
+She glanced down the long line: velvets, satins, jewels, and uniforms,
+and, above them all, the same narrow face, high-arched nose, brilliant
+dark eyes, and small, weak mouth.
+
+On the table was a photograph of Carter. Ruth sighed as she passed it.
+It was a composite of all the grace, beauty, and weakness of the
+surrounding portraits.
+
+She went to the fire and, sitting down on an ottoman, took two
+pictures from the folds of her dress. One was a miniature in a small
+old-fashioned locket. It was a grave, sweet, motherly face, singularly
+pure and childlike in its innocence. Ruth touched it with reverent
+fingers.
+
+"They say I am like her," she whispered to herself.
+
+Then she turned to the other picture in her lap. It was a cheap
+photograph with an ornate border. Posed stiffly in a photographer's
+chair, against a background which represented a frightful storm at
+sea, sat Sandy Kilday. His feet were sadly out of focus, and his head
+was held at an impossible angle by the iron rest which stood like a
+half-concealed skeleton behind him. He wore cheap store-clothes, and a
+turn-down collar which rested upon a ready-made tie of enormous
+proportions. It was a picture he had had taken in his first new
+clothes soon after coming to Clayton. Ruth had found it in an old book
+of Annette's.
+
+How crude and ludicrous the awkward boy looked beside the elegant
+figures on the walls about her! She leaned nearer the fire to get the
+light on the face, then she smiled with a sudden rush of tenderness.
+
+The photographer had done his worst for the figure, but even an
+unskilled hand and a poor camera had not wholly obliterated the
+fineness of the face. Spirit, honor, and strength were all there. The
+eyes that met hers were as fine and fearless as her own, and the
+honest smile that hovered on his lips seemed to be in frank amusement
+at his own sorry self.
+
+Ruth turned to see that the door was closed, then she put the picture
+to her cheek, which was crimson in the firelight, and with hesitating
+shyness gradually drew it to her lips and held it there.
+
+A noise of wheels in the avenue brought her to her feet with a little
+start of joy. He had come, and she was possessed of a sudden desire to
+run away. But she waited, with glad little tremors thrilling her and
+her heart beating high. She was sure she heard wheels. She went to the
+window, and, shading her eyes, looked out. A buggy was standing at the
+gate, but no one got out.
+
+A sudden apprehension seized her, and she hurried into the hail and
+opened the front door.
+
+"Carter," she called softly out into the night--"Carter, is it you?"
+
+There was no answer, and she came back into the hall and closed the
+door. On each side of the door was a panel of leaded glass, and she
+pressed her face to one of the little square panes, and peered
+anxiously out. The light from the newel-post behind her emphasized the
+darkness, so that she could distinguish only the dim outline of the
+buggy.
+
+Twice she touched the knob before she turned it again; then she
+resolutely gathered her long white dress in her hand, and passed down
+the broad stone steps. The wind blew sharply against her, and the
+pavement was cold to her slippered feet.
+
+"Carter," she called again and again--"Carter, is it you?"
+
+At the gate her scant supply of courage failed. Some one was in the
+buggy, half lying, half sitting, with his face turned from her. She
+looked back to the light in the cabin, where the servants would hear
+if she called. Then the thought of any one else seeing Carter as she
+had seen him before drove the fear back, and she resolutely opened the
+gate and went forward.
+
+At her first touch Carter started up wildly and pushed her from him.
+"You said you wouldn't give me up; you promised," he said.
+
+"I know it, Carter. I'll help you, dear. Don't be so afraid! Nobody
+shall see you. Put your arm on my shoulder--there! Step down a little
+farther!"
+
+With all her slight strength she supported and helped him, the keen
+wind blowing her long, thin dress about them both, and the lace
+falling back from her arms, leaving them bare to the elbow.
+
+Half-way up the walk he broke away from her and cried out: "I'll have
+to go away. It's dangerous for me to stay here an hour."
+
+"Yes, Carter dear, I know. The doctor says it's the climate. We are
+going early in the morning. Everything's packed. See how cold I am
+getting out here! You'll come in with me now, won't you?"
+
+Coaxing and helping him, she at last succeeded in getting him to bed.
+The blood on his handkerchief told its own story.
+
+She straightened the room, drew a screen between him and the fire,
+and then went to the bed, where he had already fallen into a deep
+sleep. Sinking on her knees beside him, she broke into heavy, silent
+sobs. The one grief of her girlhood had been the waywardness of her
+only brother. From childhood she had stood between him and blame,
+shielding him, helping him, loving him. She had fought valiantly
+against his weakness, but her meager strength had been pitted against
+the accumulated intemperance of generations.
+
+She chafed his thin wrists, which her fingers could span; she tenderly
+smoothed his face as it lay gray against the pillows; then she caught
+up his hand and held it to her breast with a quick, motherly gesture.
+
+"Take him soon, God!" she prayed. "He is too weak to try any more."
+
+At midnight she slipped away to her own room and took off the dainty
+gown she had put on for Sandy's coming.
+
+For long hours she lay in her great canopied bed with wide-open eyes.
+The night was a noisy one, for there was a continual passing on the
+road, and occasional shouts came faintly to her.
+
+With heavy heart she lay listening for some sound from Carter's room.
+She was glad he was home. It was worse to sit up in bed and listen for
+the wheels to turn in at the gate, to start at every sound on the
+road, and to wait and wait through the long night. She could scarcely
+remember the time when she had not waited for Carter at night.
+
+Once, long ago, she had confided her secret to one of her uncles, and
+he had laughed and told her that boys would be boys. After that she
+had kept things to herself.
+
+There was but one other person in the world to whom she had spoken,
+and that was Sandy Kilday. As she looked back it seemed to her there
+was nothing she had withheld from Sandy Kilday. Nothing? Sandy's face,
+as she had last seen it, despairing, reckless, hopeless, rose before
+her. But she had asked him to come back, she was ready to surrender,
+she could make him understand if she could only see him.
+
+Why had he not come? The question multiplied itself into numerous
+forms and hedged her in. Was he too angry to forgive her? Had her
+seeming indifference at last killed his love? Why had he not sent her
+a note or a message? He knew that she was to leave on the early train,
+that there would be no chance to speak with her alone in the morning.
+
+A faint streak of misty light shone through the window. She watched it
+deepen to rose.
+
+By and by Rachel came in to make the fire. She tiptoed to the bed and
+peeped through the curtains.
+
+"You 'wake, Miss Rufe? Dey's been terrible goings on in town last
+night! Didn't you hear de posse goin' by?"
+
+"What was it? What's the matter?" cried Ruth, sitting up in bed.
+
+"Dat jail-bird Wilson done shot Jedge Hollis. 'Mos' ebery man in town
+went out to ketch him. Dey been gone all night."
+
+"Sandy went with them," thought Ruth, in sudden relief; then she
+thought of the judge.
+
+"Oh, Rachel, is he dangerously hurt? Will he die?"
+
+"De las' accounts was mighty bad. Dey say de big doctors is a-comin'
+up from de city to prode fer de bullet."
+
+"What made him shoot him? How could he be so cruel, when the dear old
+judge is so good and kind to everybody?"
+
+"Jes pore white trash, dat Wilson," said Rachel, contemptuously, as
+she coaxed the kindling into a blaze.
+
+Ruth got up and dressed. Beneath the deep concern which she felt was
+the flutter of returning hope. Sandy's first duty was to his
+benefactor. She knew how he loved the old judge and with what prompt
+action he would avenge his wrong. She could trust him to follow honor
+every time.
+
+"Some ob 'em 's comin' back now!" cried Rachel from the window. "I's
+gwine down to de road an' ax 'em if dey ketched him."
+
+"Rachel, wait! I'm coming, too. Give me my traveling-coat--there on
+the trunk. What can I put on my head? My hat is in auntie's room."
+
+Rachel, rummaging in the closet, brought forth an old white
+tam-o'-shanter. "That will do!" cried Ruth. "Now, don't make any
+noise, but come."
+
+They tiptoed through the house and out into the early morning. It was
+still half dark, and the big-eyed poplars watched them suspiciously as
+they hurried down to the road. Every branch and twig was covered with
+ice, and the snow crackled under their feet.
+
+"I 'spec' it's gwine be summer-time where you gwine at, Miss Rufe,"
+said Rachel.
+
+"I don't care," cried Ruth. "I don't want to be anywhere in the world
+except right here."
+
+"Dey're comin'," announced Rachel. "I hear de hosses."
+
+Ruth leaned across the top bar of the gate, her figure enveloped in
+her long coat, and her white tam a bright spot in the half-light.
+
+On came the riders, three abreast.
+
+"Dat's him in de middle," whispered Rachel, excitedly; "next to de
+sheriff. I's s'prised dey didn't swing him up--I shorely is. He's
+hangin' down his head lak he's mighty 'shamed."
+
+Ruth bent forward to get a glimpse of the prisoner's face, and as she
+did so he lifted his head.
+
+It was Sandy Kilday, his clothes disheveled, his brows lowered, and
+his lips compressed info a straight, determined line.
+
+Ruth's startled gaze swept over the riders, then came back to him. She
+did not know what was the matter; she only knew that he was in
+trouble, and that she was siding with him against the rest. In the one
+moment their eyes met she sent him her full assurance of compassion
+and sympathy. It was the same message a little girl had sent years
+ago over a ship's railing to a wretched stowaway on the deck below.
+
+The men rode on, and she stood holding to the gate and looking after
+them.
+
+"Here comes Mr. Sid Gray," said Rachel. The approaching rider drew
+rein when he saw Ruth and dismounted.
+
+"Tell me what's happened!" she cried.
+
+He hitched his horse and opened the gate. He, too, showed signs of a
+hard night.
+
+"May I come in a moment to the fire?" he asked.
+
+She led the way to the dining-room and ordered coffee.
+
+"Now tell me," she demanded breathlessly.
+
+"It's a mixed-up business," said Gray, holding his numb hands to the
+blaze. "We left here early in the night and worked on a wrong trail
+till midnight. Then a train-man out at the Junction gave us a clue,
+and we got a couple of bloodhounds and traced Wilson as far as
+Ellersberg."
+
+"Go on!" said Ruth, shuddering.
+
+"You see, a rumor got out that the judge had died. We didn't say
+anything before the sheriff, but it was understood that Ricks wouldn't
+be brought back to town alive. We located him in an old barn. We
+surrounded it, and were just about to fire it when Kilday came tearing
+up on horseback."
+
+"Yes?" cried Ruth.
+
+"Well," he went on, "he hadn't started with us, and he had been riding
+like mad all night to overtake the crowd. His horse dropped under him
+before he could dismount. Kilday jumped out in the crowd and began to
+talk like a crazy man. He said we mustn't harm Ricks Wilson; that
+Ricks hadn't shot the judge, for he was sure he had seen him out the
+Junction road about half-past five. We all saw it was a put-up job; he
+was Ricks Wilson's old pal, you know."
+
+"But Sandy Kilday wouldn't lie!" cried Ruth.
+
+"Well, that's what he did, and worse. When we tried to close in on
+Wilson, Kilday fought like a tiger. You never saw anything like the
+mix-up, and in the general skirmish Wilson escaped."
+
+"And--and Sandy?" Ruth was leaning forward, with her hands clasped and
+her lips apart.
+
+"Well, he showed what he was, all right. He took sides with that
+good-for-nothing scoundrel who had shot a man that was almost his
+father. Why, I never saw such a case of ingratitude in my life!"
+
+"Where are they taking him?" she almost whispered.
+
+"To jail for resisting an officer."
+
+"Miss Rufe, de man's come fer de trunks. Is dey ready?" asked Rachel
+from the hall.
+
+Ruth rose and put her hand on the back of the chair to steady herself.
+
+"Yes; yes, they are ready," she said with an effort. "And, Rachel,
+tell the man to go as quietly as possible. Mr. Carter must not be
+disturbed until it is time to start."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+"THE SHADOW ON THE HEART"
+
+
+Just off Main street, under the left wing of the court-house, lay the
+little county jail. It frowned down from behind its fierce mask of
+bars and spikes, and boldly tried to make the town forget the number
+of prisoners that had escaped its walls.
+
+In a small front cell, beside a narrow grated window, Ricks Wilson had
+sat and successfully planned his way to freedom.
+
+The prisoner who now occupied the cell spent no time on thoughts of
+escape. He paced restlessly up and down the narrow chamber, or lay on
+the cot, with his hands under his head, and stared at the grimy
+ceiling. The one question which he continually put to the jailer was
+concerning the latest news of Judge Hollis.
+
+Sandy had been given an examining trial on the charge of resisting an
+officer and assisting a prisoner to escape. Refusing to tell what he
+knew, and no bail being offered, he was held to answer to the grand
+jury. For two weeks he had seen the light of day only through the
+deep, narrow opening of one small window.
+
+At first he had had visitors--indignant, excited visitors who came in
+hotly to remonstrate, to threaten, to abuse. Dr. Fenton had charged in
+upon him with a whole battery of reproaches. In stentorian tones he
+rehearsed the judge's kindness in befriending him, he pointed out his
+generosity, and laid stress on Sandy's heinous ingratitude. Mr.
+Moseley had arrived with arguments and reasons and platitudes, all
+expressed in a polysyllabic monotone. Mr. Meech had come many times
+with prayers and petitions and gentle rebuke.
+
+To them all Sandy gave patient, silent audience, wincing under the
+blame, but making no effort to defend himself. All he would say was
+that Ricks Wilson had not done the shooting, and that he could say no
+more.
+
+A wave of indignation swept the town. Almost the only friend who was
+not turned foe was Aunt Melvy. Her large philosophy of life held that
+all human beings were "chillun," and "chillun was bound to act bad
+sometimes." She left others to struggle with Sandy's moral welfare and
+devoted herself to his physical comfort.
+
+With a clear conscience she carried to her home flour, sugar, and lard
+from the Hollises' store-room, and sat up nights in her little cabin
+at "Who'd 'a' Thought It" to bake dumplings, rolls, and pies for her
+"po' white chile."
+
+Sandy felt some misgivings about the delicacies which she brought, and
+one day asked her where she made them.
+
+"I makes 'em out home," she declared stoutly. "I wouldn't cook nuffin'
+fer you on Miss Sue's stove while she's talkin' 'bout you lak she is.
+She 'lows she don't never want to set eyes on you ag'in as long as she
+lives."
+
+"Has the judge asked for me?" said Sandy.
+
+"Yas, sir; but de doctor he up and lied. He tol' him you'd went back
+to de umerversity. De doctor 'lowed ef he tole him de trufe it might
+throw him into a political stroke."
+
+Sandy leaned his head on his hand. "You're the only one that's stood
+by me, Aunt Melvy; the rest of them think me a bad lot."
+
+"Dat's right," assented Aunt Melvy, cheerfully. "You jes orter hear de
+way dey slanders you! I don't 'spec' you got a friend in town 'ceptin'
+me." Then, as if reminded of something, she produced a card covered
+with black dots. "Honey, I's gittin' up a little collection fer de
+church. You gib me a nickel and I punch a pin th'u' one ob dem dots to
+sorter certify it."
+
+"Have you got religion yet?" he asked as he handed her some small
+change.
+
+Her expression changed, and her eyes fell. "Not yit," she acknowledged
+reluctantly; "but I's countin' on comin' th'u' before long. I's done
+j'ined de Juba Choir and de White Doves."
+
+"The White Doves?" repeated Sandy.
+
+"Yas, sir; de White Doves ob Perfection. We wears purple calicoes and
+sets up wid de sick."
+
+"Have you seen Miss Annette?"
+
+"Lor', honey! ain't I tol' you 'bout dat? De very night de jedge was
+shot, dat chile wrote her paw de sassiest letter, sayin' she gwine run
+off and git married wif dat sick boy, Carter Nelson. De doctor headed
+'em off some ways, and de very nex' day what you think he done? He put
+dat gal in a Cafolic nunnery convent! Dey say she cut up scan'lous at
+fust, den she sorter quiet down, an' 'gin to count her necklace, an'
+make signs on de waist ob her dress, an' say she lak it so much she
+gwine be a Cafolic nunnery sister herself. Now de doctor's jes
+tearin' his shirt to git her out, he's so skeered she'll do what she
+says."
+
+Sandy laughed in spite of himself, and Aunt Melvy wagged her head
+knowingly.
+
+"He needn't pester hisseif 'bout dat. Now Mr. Carter's 'bout to die,
+an' you's shut up in jail, she's done turnin' her 'tention on Mr. Sid
+Gray. Dey ain't no blinds in de world big enough to keep dat gal from
+shinin' her eyes at de boys!"
+
+"Is Carter about to die?" Sandy had become suddenly grave.
+
+"Yas, sir; so dey say. He's got somepin' that sounds lak tuberoses.
+Him and Mrs. Nelson and Miss Rufe never did git to Californy. Dey
+stopped off in Mobile or Injiany, I can't ricollec' which. He took de
+fever de day dey lef', an' he ain't knowed nothin' since."
+
+After Aunt Melvy left, Sandy went to the window and leaned against the
+bars. Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home
+from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on
+their way from the post-office. Every figure that passed, black or
+white, was familiar to him. Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed
+down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips.
+
+How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had
+been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life
+of the community. Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger
+to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a
+great tenement and had been afraid to be alone.
+
+"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully. "They'll not be wanting
+me here after this."
+
+It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room. The mournful voice of a
+negro singing in the next cell came to him faintly:
+
+    "We'll hunt no moah fo' de possum and de coon,
+      On de medder, de hill, an' de shoah.
+    We'll sing no moah by de glimmer ob de moon,
+      On de bench by de old cabin doah.
+
+    "De days go by like de shadow on do heart,
+      Wid sorrer, wha' all wuz so bright;
+    De time am come when do darkies hab to part--
+      Den, my ole Kaintucky home, good night."
+
+Sandy's arm was against the grating and his head was bowed upon it.
+Through all the hours of trial one image had sustained him. It was of
+Ruth, as he had seen her last, leaning toward him out of the
+half-light, her brown hair blowing from under her white cap and her
+great eyes full of wondering compassion.
+
+But to-night the darkness obscured even that image. The judge's life
+still hung in the balance, and the man who had shot him lay in a
+distant city, unconscious, waiting for death. Sandy felt that by his
+sacrifice he had put the final barrier between himself and Ruth.
+
+With a childish gesture of despair, he flung out his arms and burst
+into a passion of tears. The intense emotional impulse of his race
+swept him along like a feather in a gale. His grief, like his joy,
+was elemental.
+
+When the lull came at last, he pressed his hot head against the cold
+iron grating, and his thoughts returned again and again to Ruth. He
+thought of her tender ministries in the sick room, of her intense love
+and loyalty for her brother. His whole soul rose up to bless her, and
+the thought of what she had been spared brought him peace.
+
+Through days of struggle and nights of pain he fought back all
+thoughts of the future and of self.
+
+These times were ever afterward a twilight-place in his soul, hallowed
+and sanctified by the great revelation they brought him, blending the
+blackness of despair with the white light of perfect love. Here his
+thoughts would often turn even in the stress and strain of the daily
+life, as a devotee stops on his busy round and steps within the dim
+cathedral to gain strength and inspiration on his way.
+
+The next time Aunt Melvy came he asked for some of his law-books, and
+from that on there was no more idling or dreaming.
+
+Among the volumes she brought was the old note-book in which the judge
+had made him jot down suggestions during those long evening readings
+in the past. It was full of homely advice, the result of forty years'
+experience, and Sandy found comfort in following it to the letter.
+
+For the first time in his life he learned the power of concentration.
+Seven hours' study a day, without diversion or interruption, brought
+splendid results. He knew the outline of the course at the university,
+and he forged ahead with feverish energy.
+
+Meanwhile the judge's condition was slowly improving.
+
+One afternoon Sandy sat at his table, deep in his work. He heard the
+key turn in its lock and the door open, but he did not look up.
+Suddenly he was aware of the soft rustle of skirts, and, lifting his
+eyes, he saw Ruth. For a moment he did not move, thinking she must be
+but the substance of his dream. Then her black dress caught his
+attention, and he started to his feet.
+
+"Carter?" he cried--"is he--"
+
+Ruth nodded; her face was white and drawn, and purple shadows lay
+about her eyes.
+
+"He's dead," she whispered, with a catch in her voice; then she went
+on in breathless explanation: "but he told me first. He said, 'Hurry
+back, Ruth, and make it right. They can come for me as soon as I can
+travel. Tell Kilday I wasn't worth it.' Oh, Sandy! I don't know
+whether it was right or wrong,--what you did,--but it was merciful: if
+you could have seen him that last week, crying all the time like a
+little child, afraid of the shadows on the wall, afraid to be alone,
+afraid to live, afraid to die--"
+
+Her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.
+
+Sandy started forward, then he paused and gripped the chair-back
+until his fingers were white.
+
+"Ruth," he said impatiently, "you'd best be going quick. It'll break
+the heart of me to see you standing there suffering, unless I can take
+you in me arms and comfort you. I've sworn never to speak the word;
+but, by the saints--"
+
+"You may!" sobbed Ruth, and with a quick, timid little gesture she
+laid her hands in his.
+
+For a moment he held her away from him. "It's not pity," he cried,
+searching her face, "nor gratitude!"
+
+She lifted her eyes, as honest and clear as her soul.
+
+"It's been love, Sandy," she whispered, "ever since the first."
+
+[Illustration: "'It's been love, Sandy, ... ever since the first'"]
+
+Two hours later, when the permit came, Sandy walked out of the jail
+into the court-house square. A crowd had collected, for Ruth had told
+her story and the news had spread; public favor was rapidly turning in
+his direction.
+
+He looked about vaguely, as a man who has gazed too long at the sun
+and is blinded to everything else.
+
+"I've got my buggy," cried Jimmy Reed, touching him on the arm. "Where
+do you want to go?"
+
+Sandy hesitated, and a dozen invitations were shouted in one breath.
+He stood irresolute, with his foot on the step of the buggy; then he
+pulled himself up.
+
+"To Judge Hollis," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE PRIMROSE WAY
+
+
+Spring and winter, and spring again, and flying rumors fluttered
+tantalizing wings over Clayton. Just when it was definitely announced
+that Willowvale was to be sold, Ruth Nelson returned, after a year's
+absence, and opened the old home.
+
+Mrs. Nelson did not come with her. That excellent lady had concluded
+to bestow her talents upon a worthier object. In her place came Miss
+Merritt, a quiet little sister of Ruth's mother, who proved to be to
+the curious public a pump without a handle.
+
+About this time Sandy Kilday returned from his last term at the
+university, and gossip was busy over the burden of honors under which
+he staggered, and the brilliance of the position he had accepted in
+the city. In prompt contradiction of this came the shining new sign,
+"Hollis & Kilday," which appeared over the judge's dingy little
+office.
+
+Nobody but Ruth knew what that sign had cost Sandy. He had come home,
+fresh from his triumphs, and burning with ambition to make his way in
+the world,--to make a name for her to share, and a record for her to
+be proud of. The opportunity that had been offered him was one in a
+lifetime. It had taken all his courage and strength and loyalty to
+refuse it, but Ruth had helped him.
+
+"We must think of the judge first, Sandy," she said. "While he lives
+we must stay here; there'll be time enough for the big world after a
+while."
+
+So Sandy gave up his dream for the present and tacked the new sign
+over the office door with his own hand.
+
+The old judge watched him from the pavement. "That's right," he said,
+rubbing his hands together with childish satisfaction; "that's just
+about the best-looking sign I ever saw!"
+
+"If you ever turn me down in court I'll stand it on its head and make
+my own name come first," threatened Sandy; and the judge repeated the
+joke to every one he saw that day.
+
+It was not long until the flying rumors settled down into positive
+facts, and Clayton was thrilled to its willow-fringed circumference.
+There was to be a wedding! Not a Nelson wedding of the olden times,
+when a special car brought grand folk down from the city, and the
+townspeople stayed apart and eyed their fine clothes and gay behavior
+with ill-concealed disfavor. This was to be a Clayton wedding for high
+and low, rich and poor.
+
+There was probably not a shutter opened in the town, on the morning of
+the great day, that some one did not smile with pleasure to find that
+the sun was shining.
+
+Mrs. Hollis woke Sandy with the dawn, and insisted upon helping him
+pack his trunk before breakfast. For a week she had been absorbed in
+his nuptial outfit, jealously guarding his new clothes, to keep him
+from wearing them all before the wedding.
+
+Aunt Melvy was half an hour late in arriving, for she had tarried at
+"Who'd 'a' Thought It" to perform the last mystic rites over a
+rabbit's foot which was to be her gift to the groom.
+
+The whole town was early astir and wore a holiday air. By noon
+business was virtually abandoned, for Clayton was getting ready to go
+to the wedding.
+
+Willowvale extended a welcome to the world. The wide front gates stood
+open, the big-eyed poplars beamed above the oleanders and the myrtle,
+while the thrushes and the redwings twittered and caroled their
+greetings from on high. The big white house was open to the sunshine
+and the spring; flowers filled every nook and corner; even the
+rose-bush which grew outside the dining-room window sent a few
+venturesome roses over the sill to lend their fragrance to those
+within.
+
+And such a flutter of expectancy and romance and joy as pervaded the
+place! All the youth of Clayton was there, loitering about the grounds
+in gay little groups, or lingering in couples under the shadow of the
+big porches.
+
+In the library Judge and Mrs. Hollis did the honors, and presented the
+guests to little Miss Merritt, whose cordial, homely greetings
+counteracted the haughty disapproval of the portraits overhead.
+
+Mr. Moseley rambled through the rooms, indulging in a flowing
+monologue which was as independent of an audience as a summer brook.
+
+Mr. Meech sought a secluded spot under the stairway and nervously
+practised the wedding service, while Mrs. Meech, tucked up for once in
+her life, smiled bravely on the company, and thought of a little green
+mound in the cemetery, which Sandy had helped her keep bright with
+flowers.
+
+They were all there, Dr. Fenton slapping everybody on the back and
+roaring at his own jokes; Sid Gray carrying Annette's flowers with a
+look of plump complacency; Jimmy Reed constituting himself a bureau of
+information, giving and soliciting news concerning wedding presents,
+destination of wedding journey, and future plans.
+
+Up-stairs, at a hall window, the groom was living through rapturous
+throes of anticipation. For the hundredth time he made sure the ring
+was in the left pocket of his waistcoat.
+
+From down-stairs came the hum of voices mingled with the music. The
+warm breath of coming summer stole through the window.
+
+Sandy looked joyously out across the fields of waving blue-grass to
+the shining river. Down by the well was an old windmill, and at its
+top a weather-vane. When he spied it he smiled. Once again he was a
+ragged youngster, back on the Liverpool dock; the fog was closing in,
+and the coarse voices of the sailors rang in his ears. In quick
+flashes the scenes of his boyhood came before him,--the days on
+shipboard, on the road with Ricks, at the Exposition, at Hollis Farm,
+at the university,--and through them all that golden thread of romance
+that had led him safe and true to the very heart of the enchanted land
+where he was to dwell forever.
+
+"'Fore de Lawd, Mist' Sandy, ef you ain't fergit yer necktie!"
+
+It was Aunt Melvy who burst in upon his reverie with these ominous
+words. She had been expected to assist with the wedding breakfast, but
+the events above-stairs had proved too alluring.
+
+Sandy's hand flew to his neck. "It's at the farm," he cried in great
+excitement, "wrapped in tissue-paper in the top drawer. Send Jim, or
+Joe, or Nick--any of the darkies you can find!"
+
+"Send nuthin'," muttered Aunt Melvy, shuffling down the stairs. "I's
+gwine myself, ef I has to take de bridal kerridge."
+
+Messengers were sent in hot haste, one to the farm and one to town,
+while Jimmy Reed was detailed to canvass the guests and see if a white
+four-in-hand might be procured.
+
+"The nearest thing is Mr. Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip
+up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take
+it off."
+
+"Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he
+know that nobody will be looking at him?"
+
+Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink.
+
+"What's the m-matter? Ruth will have a f-fit if you wait much longer,
+and my hair is coming out of curl."
+
+"Take it off him," whispered Sandy, recklessly, to Jimmy Reed; and
+violence was prevented only by the timely arrival of Aunt Melvy with
+the original wedding tie.
+
+The bridal march had sounded many times, and the impatient guests were
+becoming seriously concerned, when a handkerchief fluttered from the
+landing and Sandy and Ruth came down the wide white steps together.
+
+Mr. Meech cleared his throat and, with one hand nervously fidgeting
+under his coattail, the other thrust into the bosom of his coat,
+began:
+
+"We are assembled here to-day to witness the greatest and most
+time-hallowed institution known to man."
+
+Sandy heard no more. The music, the guests, the flowers, even his
+necktie, faded from his mind.
+
+A sacred hush filled his soul, through which throbbed the vows he was
+making before God and man. The little hand upon his arm trembled, and
+his own closed upon it in instant sympathy and protection.
+
+"In each of the ages gone," Mr. Meech was saying with increasing
+eloquence, "man has wooed and won the sweet girl of his choice, and
+then, with the wreath of fairest orange-blossoms encircling her pure
+brow, while yet the blush of innocent love crimsoned her cheek, led
+her away in trembling joy to the hymeneal altar, that their names,
+their interests, their hearts, might all be made one, just as two rays
+of light, two drops of dew, sometimes meet, to kiss--to part no more
+forever."
+
+Suddenly a loud shout sounded from the upper hall, followed by sounds
+like the repeated fall of a heavy body. Mr. Meech paused, and all eyes
+were turned in consternation toward the door. Then through the
+stillness rang out a hallelujah from above.
+
+"Praise de Lawd, de light's done come! De darkness, lak de thunder,
+done roll away. I's saved at last, and my name is done written in de
+Promised Land! Amen! Praise de Lawd! Amen!"
+
+To part of the company at least the situation was clear. Aunt Melvy,
+after seeking religion for nearly sixty years, had chosen this
+inopportune time to "come th'u'."
+
+She was with some difficulty removed to the wash-house, where she
+continued her thanksgiving in undisturbed exultation.
+
+Amid suppressed merriment, the marriage service was concluded, Mr.
+Meech heroically foregoing his meteoric finale.
+
+Clayton still holds dear the memory of that wedding: of the beautiful
+bride and the happy groom, of the great feast that was served indoors
+and out, and of the good fellowship and good cheer that made it a gala
+day for the country around.
+
+When it was over, Sandy and Ruth drove away in the old town surrey,
+followed by such a shower of rice and flowers and blessings as had
+never been known before. They started, discreetly enough, for the
+railroad-station, but when they reached the river road Sandy drew
+rein. Overhead the trees met in a long green arch, and along the
+wayside white petals strewed the road. Below lay the river, dancing,
+murmuring, beckoning.
+
+"Let's not be going to the city to-day!" cried Sandy, impulsively.
+"Let's be following the apple-blossoms wherever they lead."
+
+"It's all the same wherever we are," said Ruth, in joyful freedom.
+
+They turned into the road, and before them, through the trees, lay the
+long stretch of smiling valley.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SANDY***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 14079.txt or 14079.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/4/0/7/14079
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions 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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/old/14079.zip b/old/14079.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6420ef6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/14079.zip