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A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST

By Gene Stratton-Porter

To All Girls Of The educational musical mats for 10 year oldsLimberlost
In General
And One
Jeanette Helen Porter
In Particular

CHARACTERS:

ELNORA, who collects moths to pay for her education, and lives the Golden Rule.
PHILIP AMMON, who assists in moth hunting, and gains a new conception of love.
MRS. COMSTOCK, who lost a delusion and found a treasure.
WESLEY SINTON, who always did his best.
MARGARET SINTON, who “mothers” Elnora.
BILLY, a boy from real life.
EDITH CARR, who discovers herself.
HART HENDERSON, to whom love means all things.
POLLY AMMON, who pays an old score.
TOM LEVERING, engaged to Polly.
TERENCE O’MORE, Freckles grown tall.
MRS. O’MORE, who remained the Angel.
TERENCE, ALICE and LITTLE BROTHER, the O’MORE children.

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CONTENTS

A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV

CHAPTER XXV

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A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST

CHAPTER I

WHEREIN ELNORA GOES TO HIGH SCHOOL AND LEARNS MANY LESSONS NOT FOUND IN HERBOOKS

“Elnora Comstock, have you lost your senses?” demanded the angry voice ofKatharine Comstock while she glared at her daughter.

“Why mother!” faltered the girl.

“Don’t you ‘why mother’ me!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You know very well what Imean. You’ve given me no peace until you’ve had your way about this going toschool business; I’ve fixed you good enough, and you’re ready to start. But nochild of mine walks the streets of Onabasha looking like a play-actress woman.You wet your hair and comb it down modest and decent and then be off, or you’llhave no time to find where you belong.”

Elnora gave one despairing glance at the white face, framed in a most becomingriot of reddish-brown hair, which she saw in the little kitchen mirror. Thenshe untied the narrow black ribbon, wet the comb and plastered the waving curlsclose to her head, bound them fast, pinned on the skimpy black hat and openedthe back door.

“You’ve gone so plumb daffy you are forgetting your dinner,” jeered her mother.

“I don’t want anything to eat,” replied Elnora.

“You’ll take your dinner or you’ll not go one step. Are you crazy? Walk almostthree miles and no food from six in the morning until six at night. A prettyfigure you’d cut if you had your way! And after I’ve gone and bought you thisnice new pail and filled it especial to start on!”

Elnora came back with a face still whiter and picked up the lunch. “Thank you,mother! Good-bye!” she said. Mrs. Comstock did not reply. She watched the girlfollow the long walk to the gate and go from sight on the road, in the brightsunshine of the first Monday of September.

“I bet a dollar she gets enough of it by night!” commented Mrs. Comstock.

Elnora walked by instinct, for her eyes were blinded with tears. She left theroad where it turned south, at the corner of the Limberlost, climbed a snakefence and entered a path worn by her own feet. Dodging under willow and scruboak branches she came at last to the faint outline of an old trail made in thedays when the precious timber of the swamp was guarded by armed men. This pathshe followed until she reached a thick clump of bushes. From the debris in theend of a hollow log she took a key that unlocked the padlock of a largeweatherbeaten old box, inside of which lay several books, a butterflyapparatus, and a small cracked mirror. The walls were lined thickly with gaudybutterflies, dragonflies, and moths. She set up the mirror and once morepulling the ribbon from her hair, she shook the bright mass over her shoulders,tossing it dry in the sunshine. Then she straightened it, bound it loosely, andreplaced her hat. She tugged vainly at the low brown calico collar and gazeddespairingly at the generous length of the narrow skirt. She lifted it as shewould have cut it if possible. That disclosed the heavy high leather shoes, atsight of which she seemed positively ill, and hastily dropped the skirt. Sheopened the pail, removed the lunch, wrapped it in the napkin, and placed it ina small pasteboard box. Locking the case again she hid the key and hurried downthe trail.

She followed it around the north end of the swamp and then entered a footpathcrossing a farm leading in the direction of the spires of the city to thenortheast. Again she climbed a fence and was on the open road. For an instantshe leaned against the fence staring before her, then turned and looked back.Behind her lay the land on which she had been born to drudgery and a mother whomade no pretence of loving her; before her lay the city through whose schoolsshe hoped to find means of escape and the way to reach the things for which shecared. When she thought of how she appeared she leaned more heavily against thefence and groaned; when she thought of turning back and wearing such clothingin ignorance all the days of her life she set her teeth firmly and went hastilytoward Onabasha.

On the bridge crossing a deep culvert at the suburbs she glanced around, andthen kneeling she thrust the lunch box between the foundation and the flooring.This left her empty-handed as she approached the big stone high schoolbuilding. She entered bravely and inquired her way to the office of thesuperintendent. There she learned that she should have come the previous weekand arranged about her classes. There were many things incident to the openingof school, and one man unable to cope with all of them.

“Where have you been attending school?” he asked, while he advised the teacherof Domestic Science not to telephone for groceries until she knew how many shewould have in her classes; wrote an order for chemicals for the students ofscience; and advised the leader of the orchestra to hire a professional to takethe place of the bass violist, reported suddenly ill.

“I finished last spring at Brushwood school, district number nine,” saidElnora. “I have been studying all summer. I am quite sure I can do the firstyear work, if I have a few days to get started.”

“Of course, of course,” assented the superintendent. “Almost invariably countrypupils do good work. You may enter first year, and if it is too difficult, wewill find it out speedily. Your teachers will tell you the list of books youmust have, and if you will come with me I will show you the way to theauditorium. It is now time for opening exercises. Take any seat you findvacant.”

Elnora stood before the entrance and stared into the largest room she ever hadseen. The floor sloped to a yawning stage on which a band of musicians, groupedaround a grand piano, were tuning their instruments. She had two fleetingimpressions. That it was all a mistake; this was no school, but a grand displayof enormous ribbon bows; and the second, that she was sinking, and hadforgotten how to walk. Then a burst from the orchestra nerved her while a bevyof daintily clad, sweet-smelling things that might have been birds, or flowers,or possibly gaily dressed, happy young girls, pushed her forward. She foundherself plodding across the back of the auditorium, praying for guidance, to anempty seat.

As the girls passed her, vacancies seemed to open to meet them. Their friendswere moving over, beckoning and whispering invitations. Every one else wasseated, but no one paid any attention to the white-faced girl stumblinghalf-blindly down the aisle next the farthest wall. So she went on to the veryend facing the stage. No one moved, and she could not summon courage to crowdpast others to several empty seats she saw. At the end of the aisle she pausedin desperation, while she stared back at the whole forest of faces most ofwhich were now turned upon her.

In a flash came the full realization of her scanty dress, her pitiful littlehat and ribbon, her big, heavy shoes, her ignorance of where to go or what todo; and from a sickening wave which crept over her, she felt she was going tobecome very ill. Then out of the mass she saw a pair of big, brown boy eyes,three seats from her, and there was a message in them. Without moving his bodyhe reached forward and with a pencil touched the back of the seat before him.Instantly Elnora took another step which brought her to a row of vacant frontseats.

She heard laughter behind her; the knowledge that she wore the only hat in theroom burned her; every matter of moment, and some of none at all, cut andstung. She had no books. Where should she go when this was over? What would shegive to be on the trail going home! She was shaking with a nervous chill whenthe music ceased, and the superintendent arose, and coming down to the front ofthe flower-decked platform, opened a Bible and began to read. Elnora did notknow what he was reading, and she felt that she did not care. Wildly she wasracking her brain to decide whether she should sit still when the others leftthe room or follow, and ask some one where the Freshmen went first.

In the midst of the struggle one sentence fell on her ear. “Hide me under theshadow of Thy wings.”

Elnora began to pray frantically. “Hide me, O God, hide me, under the shadow ofThy wings.”

Again and again she implored that prayer, and before she realized what wascoming, every one had arisen and the room was emptying rapidly. Elnora hurriedafter the nearest girl and in the press at the door touched her sleeve timidly.

“Will you please tell me where the Freshmen go?” she asked huskily.

The girl gave her one surprised glance, and drew away.

“Same place as the fresh women,” she answered, and those nearest her laughed.

Elnora stopped praying suddenly and the colour crept into her face. “I’ll wageryou are the first person I meet when I find it,” she said and stopped short.“Not that! Oh, I must not do that!” she thought in dismay. “Make an enemy thefirst thing I do. Oh, not that!”

She followed with her eyes as the young people separated in the hall, someclimbing stairs, some disappearing down side halls, some entering adjoiningdoors. She saw the girl overtake the brown-eyed boy and speak to him. Heglanced back at Elnora with a scowl on his face. Then she stood alone in thehall.

Presently a door opened and a young woman came out and entered another room.Elnora waited until she returned, and hurried to her. “Would you tell me wherethe Freshmen are?” she panted.

“Straight down the hall, three doors to your left,” was the answer, as the girlpassed.

“One minute please, oh please,” begged Elnora: “Should I knock or just open thedoor?”

“Go in and take a seat,” replied the teacher.

“What if there aren’t any seats?” gasped Elnora.

“Classrooms are never half-filled, there will be plenty,” was the answer.

Elnora removed her hat. There was no place to put it, so she carried it in herhand. She looked infinitely better without it. After several efforts she atlast opened the door and stepping inside faced a smaller and more concentratedbattery of eyes.

“The superintendent sent me. He thinks I belong here,” she said to theprofessor in charge of the class, but she never before heard the voice withwhich she spoke. As she stood waiting, the girl of the hall passed on her wayto the blackboard, and suppressed laughter told Elnora that her thrust had beenrepeated.

“Be seated,” said the professor, and then because he saw Elnora was desperatelyembarrassed he proceeded to lend her a book and to ask her if she had studiedalgebra. She said she had a little, but not the same book they were using. Heasked her if she felt that she could do the work they were beginning, and shesaid she did.

That was how it happened, that three minutes after entering the room she wastold to take her place beside the girl who had gone last to the board, andwhose flushed face and angry eyes avoided meeting Elnora’s. Being compelled toconcentrate on her proposition she forgot herself. When the professor askedthat all pupils sign their work she firmly wrote “Elnora Comstock” under herdemonstration. Then she took her seat and waited with white lips and tremblinglimbs, as one after another professor called the names on the board, whiletheir owners arose and explained their propositions, or “flunked” if they hadnot found a correct solution. She was so eager to catch their forms ofexpression and prepare herself for her recitation, that she never looked fromthe work on the board, until clearly and distinctly, “Elnora Cornstock,” calledthe professor.

The dazed girl stared at the board. One tiny curl added to the top of the firstcurve of the m in her name, had transformed it from a good old Englishpatronymic that any girl might bear proudly, to Cornstock. Elnora satspeechless. When and how did it happen? She could feel the wave of smotheredlaughter in the air around her. A rush of anger turned her face scarlet and hersoul sick. The voice of the professor addressed her directly.

“This proposition seems to be beautifully demonstrated, Miss Cornstalk,” hesaid. “Surely, you can tell us how you did it.”

That word of praise saved her. She could do good work. They might wear theirpretty clothes, have their friends and make life a greater misery than it everbefore had been for her, but not one of them should do better work or be morewomanly. That lay with her. She was tall, straight, and handsome as she arose.

“Of course I can explain my work,” she said in natural tones. “What I can’texplain is how I happened to be so stupid as to make a mistake in writing myown name. I must have been a little nervous. Please excuse me.”

She went to the board, swept off the signature with one stroke, then rewrote itplainly. “My name is Comstock,” she said distinctly. She returned to her seatand following the formula used by the others made her first high schoolrecitation.

As Elnora resumed her seat Professor Henley looked at her steadily. “It puzzlesme,” he said deliberately, “how you can write as beautiful a demonstration, andexplain it as clearly as ever has been done in any of my classes and still beso disturbed as to make a mistake in your own name. Are you very sure you didthat yourself, Miss Comstock?”

“It is impossible that any one else should have done it,” answered Elnora.

“I am very glad you think so,” said the professor. “Being Freshmen, all of youare strangers to me. I should dislike to begin the year with you feeling therewas one among you small enough to do a trick like that. The next proposition,please.”

When the hour had gone the class filed back to the study room and Elnorafollowed in desperation, because she did not know where else to go. She couldnot study as she had no books, and when the class again left the room to go toanother professor for the next recitation, she went also. At least they couldput her out if she did not belong there. Noon came at last, and she kept withthe others until they dispersed on the sidewalk. She was so abnormallyself-conscious she fancied all the hundreds of that laughing, throng saw andjested at her. When she passed the brown-eyed boy walking with the girl of herencounter, she knew, for she heard him say: “Did you really let that gawkypiece of calico get ahead of you?” The answer was indistinct.

Elnora hurried from the city. She intended to get her lunch, eat it in theshade of the first tree, and then decide whether she would go back or go home.She knelt on the bridge and reached for her box, but it was so very light thatshe was prepared for the fact that it was empty, before opening it. There wasone thing for which to be thankful. The boy or tramp who had seen her hide it,had left the napkin. She would not have to face her mother and account for itsloss. She put it in her pocket, and threw the box into the ditch. Then she saton the bridge and tried to think, but her brain was confused.

“Perhaps the worst is over,” she said at last. “I will go back. What wouldmother say to me if I came home now?”

So she returned to the high school, followed some other pupils to the coatroom, hung her hat, and found her way to the study where she had been in themorning. Twice that afternoon, with aching head and empty stomach, she facedstrange professors, in different branches. Once she escaped notice; the secondtime the worst happened. She was asked a question she could not answer.

“Have you not decided on your course, and secured your books?” inquired theprofessor.

“I have decided on my course,” replied Elnora, “I do not know where to ask formy books.”

“Ask?” the professor was bewildered.

“I understood the books were furnished,” faltered Elnora.

“Only to those bringing an order from the township trustee,” replied theProfessor.

“No! Oh no!” cried Elnora. “I will have them to-morrow,” and gripped her deskfor support for she knew that was not true. Four books, ranging perhaps at adollar and a half apiece; would her mother buy them? Of course she wouldnot—could not.

Did not Elnora know the story of old. There was enough land, but no one to doclearing and farm. Tax on all those acres, recently the new gravel road taxadded, the expense of living and only the work of two women to meet all of it.She was insane to think she could come to the city to school. Her mother hadbeen right. The girl decided that if only she lived to reach home, she wouldstay there and lead any sort of life to avoid more of this torture. Bad as whatshe wished to escape had been, it was nothing like this. She never could livedown the movement that went through the class when she inadvertently revealedthe fact that she had expected books to be furnished. Her mother would notsecure them; that settled the question.

But the end of misery is never in a hurry to come; before the day was over thesuperintendent entered the room and explained that pupils from the country werecharged a tuition of twenty dollars a year. That really was the end. PreviouslyElnora had canvassed a dozen methods for securing the money for books, rangingall the way from offering to wash the superintendent’s dishes to breaking intothe bank. This additional expense made her plans so wildly impossible, therewas nothing to do but hold up her head until she was from sight.

Down the long corridor alone among hundreds, down the long street alone amongthousands, out into the country she came at last. Across the fence and field,along the old trail once trodden by a boy’s bitter agony, now stumbled awhite-faced girl, sick at heart. She sat on a log and began to sob in spite ofher efforts at self-control. At first it was physical breakdown, later, thoughtcame crowding.

Oh the shame, the mortification! Why had she not known of the tuition? How didshe happen to think that in the city books were furnished? Perhaps it wasbecause she had read they were in several states. But why did she not know? Whydid not her mother go with her? Other mothers—but when had her motherever been or done anything at all like other mothers? Because she never hadbeen it was useless to blame her now. Elnora realized she should have gone totown the week before, called on some one and learned all these things herself.She should have remembered how her clothing would look, before she wore it inpublic places. Now she knew, and her dreams were over. She must go home to feedchickens, calves, and pigs, wear calico and coarse shoes, and with avertedhead, pass a library all her life. She sobbed again.

“For pity’s sake, honey, what’s the matter?” asked the voice of the nearestneighbour, Wesley Sinton, as he seated himself beside Elnora. “There, there,”he continued, smearing tears all over her face in an effort to dry them. “Wasit as bad as that, now? Maggie has been just wild over you all day. She’s gotnervouser every minute. She said we were foolish to let you go. She said yourclothes were not right, you ought not to carry that tin pail, and that theywould laugh at you. By gum, I see they did!”

“Oh, Uncle Wesley,” sobbed the girl, “why didn’t she tell me?”

“Well, you see, Elnora, she didn’t like to. You got such a way of holding upyour head, and going through with things. She thought some way that you’d makeit, till you got started, and then she begun to see a hundred things we shouldhave done. I reckon you hadn’t reached that building before she remembered thatyour skirt should have been pleated instead of gathered, your shoes been low,and lighter for hot September weather, and a new hat. Were your clothes right,Elnora?”

The girl broke into hysterical laughter. “Right!” she cried. “Right! UncleWesley, you should have seen me among them! I was a picture! They’ll neverforget me. No, they won’t get the chance, for they’ll see me again to-morrow!

“Now that is what I call spunk, Elnora! Downright grit,” said Wesley Sinton.“Don’t you let them laugh you out. You’ve helped Margaret and me for years atharvest and busy times, what you’ve earned must amount to quite a sum. You canget yourself a good many clothes with it.”

“Don’t mention clothes, Uncle Wesley,” sobbed Elnora, “I don’t care now how Ilook. If I don’t go back all of them will know it’s because I am so poor Ican’t buy my books.”

“Oh, I don’t know as you are so dratted poor,” said Sinton meditatively. “Thereare three hundred acres of good land, with fine timber as ever grew on it.”

“It takes all we can earn to pay the tax, and mother wouldn’t cut a tree forher life.”

“Well then, maybe, I’ll be compelled to cut one for her,” suggested Sinton.“Anyway, stop tearing yourself to pieces and tell me. If it isn’t clothes, whatis it?”

“It’s books and tuition. Over twenty dollars in all.”

“Humph! First time I ever knew you to be stumped by twenty dollars, Elnora,”said Sinton, patting her hand.

“It’s the first time you ever knew me to want money,” answered Elnora. “This isdifferent from anything that ever happened to me. Oh, how can I get it, UncleWesley?”

“Drive to town with me in the morning and I’ll draw it from the bank for you. Iowe you every cent of it.”

“You know you don’t owe me a penny, and I wouldn’t touch one from you, unless Ireally could earn it. For anything that’s past I owe you and Aunt Margaret forall the home life and love I’ve ever known. I know how you work, and I’ll nottake your money.”

“Just a loan, Elnora, just a loan for a little while until you can earn it. Youcan be proud with all the rest of the world, but there are no secrets betweenus, are there, Elnora?”

“No,” said Elnora, “there are none. You and Aunt Margaret have given me all thelove there has been in my life. That is the one reason above all others why youshall not give me charity. Hand me money because you find me crying for it!This isn’t the first time this old trail has known tears and heartache. All ofus know that story. Freckles stuck to what he undertook and won out. I stick,too. When Duncan moved away he gave me all Freckles left in the swamp, and as Ihave inherited his property maybe his luck will come with it. I won’t touchyour money, but I’ll win some way. First, I’m going home and try mother. It’sjust possible I could find second-hand books, and perhaps all the tuition neednot be paid at once. Maybe they would accept it quarterly. But oh, UncleWesley, you and Aunt Margaret keep on loving me! I’m so lonely, and no one elsecares!”

Wesley Sinton’s jaws met with a click. He swallowed hard on bitter words andchanged what he would have liked to say three times before it becamearticulate.

“Elnora,” he said at last, “if it hadn’t been for one thing I’d have tried totake legal steps to make you ours when you were three years old. Maggie saidthen it wasn’t any use, but I’ve always held on. You see, I was the first manthere, honey, and there are things you see, that you can’t ever make anybodyelse understand. She loved him Elnora, she just made an idol of him. There wasthat oozy green hole, with the thick scum broke, and two or three big bubblesslowly rising that were the breath of his body. There she was in spasms ofagony, and beside her the great heavy log she’d tried to throw him. I can’tever forgive her for turning against you, and spoiling your childhood as shehas, but I couldn’t forgive anybody else for abusing her. Maggie has got nomercy on her, but Maggie didn’t see what I did, and I’ve never tried to make itvery clear to her. It’s been a little too plain for me ever since. Whenever Ilook at your mother’s face, I see what she saw, so I hold my tongue and say, inmy heart, ‘Give her a mite more time.’ Some day it will come. She does loveyou, Elnora. Everybody does, honey. It’s just that she’s feeling so much, shecan’t express herself. You be a patient girl and wait a little longer. Afterall, she’s your mother, and you’re all she’s got, but a memory, and it might doher good to let her know that she was fooled in that.”

“It would kill her!” cried the girl swiftly. “Uncle Wesley, it would kill her!What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” said Wesley Sinton soothingly. “Nothing, honey. That was just one ofthem fool things a man says, when he is trying his best to be wise. You see,she loved him mightily, and they’d been married only a year, and what she wasloving was what she thought he was. She hadn’t really got acquainted with theman yet. If it had been even one more year, she could have borne it, and you’dhave got justice. Having been a teacher she was better educated and smarterthan the rest of us, and so she was more sensitive like. She can’t understandshe was loving a dream. So I say it might do her good if somebody that knew,could tell her, but I swear to gracious, I never could. I’ve heard her out atthe edge of that quagmire calling in them wild spells of hers off and on forthe last sixteen years, and imploring the swamp to give him back to her, andI’ve got out of bed when I was pretty tired, and come down to see she didn’t goin herself, or harm you. What she feels is too deep for me. I’ve got torespectin’ her grief, and I can’t get over it. Go home and tell your ma, honey,and ask her nice and kind to help you. If she won’t, then you got to swallowthat little lump of pride in your neck, and come to Aunt Maggie, like you beena-coming all your life.”

“I’ll ask mother, but I can’t take your money, Uncle Wesley, indeed I can’t.I’ll wait a year, and earn some, and enter next year.”

“There’s one thing you don’t consider, Elnora,” said the man earnestly. “Andthat’s what you are to Maggie. She’s a little like your ma. She hasn’t given upto it, and she’s struggling on brave, but when we buried our second little girlthe light went out of Maggie’s eyes, and it’s not come back. The only time Iever see a hint of it is when she thinks she’s done something that makes youhappy, Elnora. Now, you go easy about refusing her anything she wants to do foryou. There’s times in this world when it’s our bounden duty to forgetourselves, and think what will help other people. Young woman, you owe me andMaggie all the comfort we can get out of you. There’s the two of our own wecan’t ever do anything for. Don’t you get the idea into your head that a foolthing you call pride is going to cut us out of all the pleasure we have in lifebeside ourselves.”

“Uncle Wesley, you are a dear,” said Elnora. “Just a dear! If I can’t possiblyget that money any way else on earth, I’ll come and borrow it of you, and thenI’ll pay it back if I must dig ferns from the swamp and sell them from door todoor in the city. I’ll even plant them, so that they will be sure to come up inthe spring. I have been sort of panic stricken all day and couldn’t think. Ican gather nuts and sell them. Freckles sold moths and butterflies, and I’ve alot collected. Of course, I am going back to-morrow! I can find a way to getthe books. Don’t you worry about me. I am all right!

“Now, what do you think of that?” inquired Wesley Sinton of the swamp ingeneral. “Here’s our Elnora come back to stay. Head high and right as a trivet!You’ve named three ways in three minutes that you could earn ten dollars, whichI figure would be enough, to start you. Let’s go to supper and stop worrying!”

Elnora unlocked the case, took out the pail, put the napkin in it, pulled theribbon from her hair, binding it down tightly again and followed to the road.From afar she could see her mother in the doorway. She blinked her eyes, andtried to smile as she answered Wesley Sinton, and indeed she did feel better.She knew now what she had to expect, where to go, and what to do. Get the booksshe must; when she had them, she would show those city girls and boys how toprepare and recite lessons, how to walk with a brave heart; and they could showher how to wear pretty clothes and have good times.

As she neared the door her mother reached for the pail. “I forgot to tell youto bring home your scraps for the chickens,” she said.

Elnora entered. “There weren’t any scraps, and I’m hungry again as I ever wasin my life.”

“I thought likely you would be,” said Mrs. Comstock, “and so I got supperready. We can eat first, and do the work afterward. What kept you so? Iexpected you an hour ago.”

Elnora looked into her mother’s face and smiled. It was a queer sort of alittle smile, and would have reached the depths with any normal mother.

“I see you’ve been bawling,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I thought you’d get your fillin a hurry. That’s why I wouldn’t go to any expense. If we keep out of thepoor-house we have to cut the corners close. It’s likely this Brushwood roadtax will eat up all we’ve saved in years. Where the land tax is to come from Idon’t know. It gets bigger every year. If they are going to dredge the swampditch again they’ll just have to take the land to pay for it. I can’t, that’sall! We’ll get up early in the morning and gather and hull the beans forwinter, and put in the rest of the day hoeing the turnips.”

Elnora again smiled that pitiful smile.

“Do you think I didn’t know that I was funny and would be laughed at?” sheasked.

“Funny?” cried Mrs. Comstock hotly.

“Yes, funny! A regular caricature,” answered Elnora. “No one else wore calico,not even one other. No one else wore high heavy shoes, not even one. No oneelse had such a funny little old hat; my hair was not right, my ribboninvisible compared with the others, I did not know where to go, or what to do,and I had no books. What a spectacle I made for them!” Elnora laughed nervouslyat her own picture. “But there are always two sides! The professor said in thealgebra class that he never had a better solution and explanation than mine ofthe proposition he gave me, which scored one for me in spite of my clothes.”

“Well, I wouldn’t brag on myself!”

“That was poor taste,” admitted Elnora. “But, you see, it is a case ofwhistling to keep up my courage. I honestly could see that I would have lookedjust as well as the rest of them if I had been dressed as they were. We can’tafford that, so I have to find something else to brace me. It was rather bad,mother!”

“Well, I’m glad you got enough of it!”

“Oh, but I haven’t,” hurried in Elnora. “I just got a start. The hardest isover. To-morrow they won’t be surprised. They will know what to expect. I amsorry to hear about the dredge. Is it really going through?”

“Yes. I got my notification today. The tax will be something enormous. I don’tknow as I can spare you, even if you are willing to be a laughing-stock for thetown.”

With every bite Elnora’s courage returned, for she was a healthy young thing.

“You’ve heard about doing evil that good might come from it,” she said. “Well,mother mine, it’s something like that with me. I’m willing to bear the hardpart to pay for what I’ll learn. Already I have selected the ward building inwhich I shall teach in about four years. I am going to ask for a room with asouth exposure so that the flowers and moths I take in from the swamp to showthe children will do well.”

“You little idiot!” said Mrs. Comstock. “How are you going to pay yourexpenses?”

“Now that is just what I was going to ask you!” said Elnora. “You see, I havehad two startling pieces of news to-day. I did not know I would need any money.I thought the city furnished the books, and there is an out-of-town tuition,also. I need ten dollars in the morning. Will you please let me have it?”

“Ten dollars!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Ten dollars! Why don’t you say a hundredand be done with it! I could get one as easy as the other. I told you! I toldyou I couldn’t raise a cent. Every year expenses grow bigger and bigger. I toldyou not to ask for money!”

“I never meant to,” replied Elnora. “I thought clothes were all I needed and Icould bear them. I never knew about buying books and tuition.”

“Well, I did!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I knew what you would run into! But you areso bull-dog stubborn, and so set in your way, I thought I would just let youtry the world a little and see how you liked it!”

Elnora pushed back her chair and looked at her mother.

“Do you mean to say,” she demanded, “that you knew, when you let me go into acity classroom and reveal the fact before all of them that I expected to havemy books handed out to me; do you mean to say that you knew I had to pay forthem?”

Mrs. Comstock evaded the direct question.

“Anybody but an idiot mooning over a book or wasting time prowling the woodswould have known you had to pay. Everybody has to pay for everything. Life ismade up of pay, pay, pay! It’s always and forever pay! If you don’t pay one wayyou do another! Of course, I knew you had to pay. Of course, I knew you wouldcome home blubbering! But you don’t get a penny! I haven’t one cent, and can’tget one! Have your way if you are determined, but I think you will find theroad somewhat rocky.”

“Swampy, you mean, mother,” corrected Elnora. She arose white and trembling.“Perhaps some day God will teach me how to understand you. He knows I do notnow. You can’t possibly realize just what you let me go through to-day, or howyou let me go, but I’ll tell you this: You understand enough that if you hadthe money, and would offer it to me, I wouldn’t touch it now. And I’ll tell youthis much more. I’ll get it myself. I’ll raise it, and do it some honest way. Iam going back to-morrow, the next day, and the next. You need not come out,I’ll do the night work, and hoe the turnips.”

It was ten o’clock when the chickens, pigs, and cattle were fed, the turnipshoed, and a heap of bean vines was stacked beside the back door.

CHAPTER II

WHEREIN WESLEY AND MARGARET GO SHOPPING, AND ELNORA’S WARDROBE ISREPLENISHED

Wesley Sinton walked down the road half a mile and turned at the lane leadingto his home. His heart was hot and filled with indignation. He had told Elnorahe did not blame her mother, but he did. His wife met him at the door.

“Did you see anything of Elnora?” she questioned.

“Most too much, Maggie,” he answered. “What do you say to going to town?There’s a few things has to be got right away.”

“Where did you see her, Wesley?”

“Along the old Limberlost trail, my girl, torn to pieces sobbing. Her couragealways has been fine, but the thing she met to-day was too much for her. Weought to have known better than to let her go that way. It wasn’t only clothes;there were books, and entrance fees for out-of-town people, that she didn’tknow about; while there must have been jeers, whispers, and laughing. Maggie, Ifeel as if I’d been a traitor to those girls of ours. I ought to have gone inand seen about this school business. Don’t cry, Maggie. Get me some supper, andI’ll hitch up and see what we can do now.”

“What can we do, Wesley?

“I don’t just know. But we’ve got to do something. Kate Comstock will be ahandful, while Elnora will be two, but between us we must see that the girl isnot too hard pressed about money, and that she is dressed so she is notridiculous. She’s saved us the wages of a woman many a day, can’t you make hersome decent dresses?”

“Well, I’m not just what you call expert, but I could beat Kate Comstock all topieces. I know that skirts should be pleated to the band instead of gathered,and full enough to sit in, and short enough to walk in. I could try. There arepatterns for sale. Let’s go right away, Wesley.”

“Set me a bit of supper, while I hitch up.”

Margaret built a fire, made coffee, and fried ham and eggs. She set out pie andcake and had enough for a hungry man by the time the carriage was at the door,but she had no appetite. She dressed while Wesley ate, put away the food whilehe dressed, and then they drove toward the city through the beautiful Septemberevening, and as they went they planned for Elnora. The trouble was, not whetherthey were generous enough to buy what she needed, but whether she would accepttheir purchases, and what her mother would say.

They went to a drygoods store and when a clerk asked what they wanted to seeneither of them knew, so they stepped aside and held a whispered consultation.

“What had we better get, Wesley?”

“Dresses,” said Wesley promptly,

“But how many dresses, and what kind?”

“Blest if I know!” exclaimed Wesley. “I thought you would manage that. I knowabout some things I’m going to get.”

At that instant several high school girls came into the store and approachedthem.

“There!” exclaimed Wesley breathlessly. “There, Maggie! Like them! That’s whatshe needs! Buy like they have!”

Margaret stared. What did they wear? They were rapidly passing; they seemed tohave so much, and she could not decide so quickly. Before she knew it she wasamong them.

“I beg your pardon, but won’t you wait one minute?” she asked.

The girls stopped with wondering faces.

“It’s your clothes,” explained Mrs. Sinton. “You look just beautiful to me. Youlook exactly as I should have wanted to see my girls. They both died ofdiphtheria when they were little, but they had yellow hair, dark eyes and pinkcheeks, and everybody thought they were lovely. If they had lived, they’d beennear your age now, and I’d want them to look like you.”

There was sympathy on every girl face.

“Why thank you!” said one of them. “We are very sorry for you.”

“Of course you are,” said Margaret. “Everybody always has been. And because Ican’t ever have the joy of a mother in thinking for my girls and buying prettythings for them, there is nothing left for me, but to do what I can for someone who has no mother to care for her. I know a girl, who would be just aspretty as any of you, if she had the clothes, but her mother does not thinkabout her, so I mother her some myself.”

“She must be a lucky girl,” said another.

“Oh, she loves me,” said Margaret, “and I love her. I want her to look justlike you do. Please tell me about your clothes. Are these the dresses and hatsyou wear to school? What kind of goods are they, and where do you buy them?”

The girls began to laugh and cluster around Margaret. Wesley strode down thestore with his head high through pride in her, but his heart was sore over thememory of two little faces under Brushwood sod. He inquired his way to the shoedepartment.

“Why, every one of us have on gingham or linen dresses,” they said, “and theyare our school clothes.”

For a few moments there was a babel of laughing voices explaining to thedelighted Margaret that school dresses should be bright and pretty, but simpleand plain, and until cold weather they should wash.

“I’ll tell you,” said Ellen Brownlee, “my father owns this store, I know allthe clerks. I’ll take you to Miss Hartley. You tell her just how much you wantto spend, and what you want to buy, and she will know how to get the most foryour money. I’ve heard papa say she was the best clerk in the store for peoplewho didn’t know precisely what they wanted.”

“That’s the very thing,” agreed Margaret. “But before you go, tell me aboutyour hair. Elnora’s hair is bright and wavy, but yours is silky as hackledflax. How do you do it?”

“Elnora?” asked four girls in concert.

“Yes, Elnora is the name of the girl I want these things for.”

“Did she come to the high school to-day?” questioned one of them.

“Was she in your classes?” demanded Margaret without reply.

Four girls stood silent and thought fast. Had there been a strange girl amongthem, and had she been overlooked and passed by with indifference, because shewas so very shabby? If she had appeared as much better than they, as she hadlooked worse, would her reception have been the same?

“There was a strange girl from the country in the Freshman class to-day,” saidEllen Brownlee, “and her name was Elnora.”

“That was the girl,” said Margaret.

“Are her people so very poor?” questioned Ellen.

“No, not poor at all, come to think of it,” answered Margaret. “It’s a peculiarcase. Mrs. Comstock had a great trouble and she let it change her whole lifeand make a different woman of her. She used to be lovely; now she is foreversaving and scared to death for fear they will go to the poorhouse; but there isa big farm, covered with lots of good timber. The taxes are high for women whocan’t manage to clear and work the land. There ought to be enough to keep twoof them in good shape all their lives, if they only knew how to do it. But noone ever told Kate Comstock anything, and never will, for she won’t listen. Allshe does is droop all day, and walk the edge of the swamp half the night, andneglect Elnora. If you girls would make life just a little easier for her itwould be the finest thing you ever did.”

All of them promised they would.

“Now tell me about your hair,” persisted Margaret Sinton.

So they took her to a toilet counter, and she bought the proper hair soap, alsoa nail file, and cold cream, for use after windy days. Then they left her withthe experienced clerk, and when at last Wesley found her she was loaded withbundles and the light of other days was in her beautiful eyes. Wesley alsocarried some packages.

“Did you get any stockings?” he whispered.

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I was so interested in dresses and hair ribbons anda—a hat——” she hesitated and glanced at Wesley. “Of course, ahat!” prompted Wesley. “That I forgot all about those horrible shoes. She’s gotto have decent shoes, Wesley.”

“Sure!” said Wesley. “She’s got decent shoes. But the man said some brownstockings ought to go with them. Take a peep, will you!”

Wesley opened a box and displayed a pair of thick-soled, beautifully shapedbrown walking shoes of low cut. Margaret cried out with pleasure.

“But do you suppose they are the right size, Wesley? What did you get?”

“I just said for a girl of sixteen with a slender foot.”

“Well, that’s about as near as I could come. If they don’t fit when she triesthem, we will drive straight in and change them. Come on now, let’s get home.”

All the way they discussed how they should give Elnora their purchases and whatMrs. Comstock would say.

“I am afraid she will be awful mad,” said Margaret.

“She’ll just rip!” replied Wesley graphically. “But if she wants to leave theraising of her girl to the neighbours, she needn’t get fractious if they takesome pride in doing a good job. From now on I calculate Elnora shall go toschool; and she shall have all the clothes and books she needs, if I go aroundon the back of Kate Comstock’s land and cut a tree, or drive off a calf to payfor them. Why I know one tree she owns that would put Elnora in heaven for ayear. Just think of it, Margaret! It’s not fair. One-third of what is therebelongs to Elnora by law, and if Kate Comstock raises a row I’ll tell her so,and see that the girl gets it. You go to see Kate in the morning, and I’ll gowith you. Tell her you want Elnora’s pattern, that you are going to make her adress, for helping us. And sort of hint at a few more things. If Kate balks,I’ll take a hand and settle her. I’ll go to law for Elnora’s share of that landand sell enough to educate her.”

“Why, Wesley Sinton, you’re perfectly wild.”

“I’m not! Did you ever stop to think that such cases are so frequent there havebeen laws made to provide for them? I can bring it up in court and force Kateto educate Elnora, and board and clothe her till she’s of age, and then she cantake her share.”

“Wesley, Kate would go crazy!”

“She’s crazy now. The idea of any mother living with as sweet a girl as Elnoraand letting her suffer till I find her crying like a funeral. It makes mefighting mad. All uncalled for. Not a grain of sense in it. I’ve offered andoffered to oversee clearing her land and working her fields. Let her sell agood tree, or a few acres. Something is going to be done, right now. Elnora’sbeen fairly happy up to this, but to spoil the school life she’s planned, is toruin all her life. I won’t have it! If Elnora won’t take these things, so helpme, I’ll tell her what she is worth, and loan her the money and she can pay meback when she comes of age. I am going to have it out with Kate Comstock in themorning. Here we are! You open up what you got while I put away the horses, andthen I’ll show you.”

When Wesley came from the barn Margaret had four pieces of crisp gingham, apale blue, a pink, a gray with green stripes and a rich brown and blue plaid.On each of them lay a yard and a half of wide ribbon to match. There werehandkerchiefs and a brown leather belt. In her hands she held a wide-brimmedtan straw hat, having a high crown banded with velvet strips each of whichfastened with a tiny gold buckle.

“It looks kind of bare now,” she explained. “It had three quills on it here.”

“Did you have them taken off?” asked Wesley.

“Yes, I did. The price was two and a half for the hat, and those things were adollar and a half apiece. I couldn’t pay that.”

“It does seem considerable,” admitted Wesley, “but will it look right withoutthem?”

“No, it won’t!” said Margaret. “It’s going to have quills on it. Do youremember those beautiful peacock wing feathers that Phoebe Simms gave me? Threeof them go on just where those came off, and nobody will ever know thedifference. They match the hat to a moral, and they are just a little longerand richer than the ones that I had taken off. I was wondering whether I bettersew them on to-night while I remember how they set, or wait till morning.”

“Don’t risk it!” exclaimed Wesley anxiously. “Don’t you risk it! Sew them onright now!”

“Open your bundles, while I get the thread,” said Margaret.

Wesley unwrapped the shoes. Margaret took them up and pinched the leather andstroked them.

“My, but they are fine!” she cried.

Wesley picked up one and slowly turned it in his big hands. He glanced at hisfoot and back to the shoe.

“It’s a little bit of a thing, Margaret,” he said softly. “Like as not I’llhave to take it back. It seems as if it couldn’t fit.”

“It seems as if it didn’t dare do anything else,” said Margaret. “That’s ahappy little shoe to get the chance to carry as fine a girl as Elnora to highschool. Now what’s in the other box?”

Wesley looked at Margaret doubtfully.

“Why,” he said, “you know there’s going to be rainy days, and those things shehas now ain’t fit for anything but to drive up the cows——”

“Wesley, did you get high shoes, too?”

“Well, she ought to have them! The man said he would make them cheaper if Itook both pairs at once.”

Margaret laughed aloud. “Those will do her past Christmas,” she exulted. “Whatelse did you buy?”

“Well sir,” said Wesley, “I saw something to-day. You told me about Kategetting that tin pail for Elnora to carry to high school and you said you toldher it was a shame. I guess Elnora was ashamed all right, for to-night shestopped at the old case Duncan gave her, and took out that pail, where it hadbeen all day, and put a napkin inside it. Coming home she confessed she washalf starved because she hid her dinner under a culvert, and a tramp took it.She hadn’t had a bite to eat the whole day. But she never complained at all,she was pleased that she hadn’t lost the napkin. So I just inquired around tillI found this, and I think it’s about the ticket.”

Wesley opened the package and laid a brown leather lunch box on the table.“Might be a couple of books, or drawing tools or most anything that’s neat andgenteel. You see, it opens this way.”

It did open, and inside was a space for sandwiches, a little porcelain box forcold meat or fried chicken, another for salad, a glass with a lid which screwedon, held by a ring in a corner, for custard or jelly, a flask for tea or milk,a beautiful little knife, fork, and spoon fastened in holders, and a place fora napkin.

Margaret was almost crying over it.

“How I’d love to fill it!” she exclaimed.

“Do it the first time, just to show Kate Comstock what love is!” said Wesley.“Get up early in the morning and make one of those dresses to-morrow. Can’t youmake a plain gingham dress in a day? I’ll pick a chicken, and you fry it andfix a little custard for the cup, and do it up brown. Go on, Maggie, you doit!”

“I never can,” said Margaret. “I am slow as the itch about sewing, and theseare not going to be plain dresses when it comes to making them. There are goingto be edgings of plain green, pink, and brown to the bias strips, and tucks andpleats around the hips, fancy belts and collars, and all of it takes time.”

“Then Kate Comstock’s got to help,” said Wesley. “Can the two of you make one,and get that lunch to-morrow?”

“Easy, but she’ll never do it!”

“You see if she doesn’t!” said Wesley. “You get up and cut it out, and soon asElnora is gone I’ll go after Kate myself. She’ll take what I’ll say betteralone. But she’ll come, and she’ll help make the dress. These other things areour Christmas gifts to Elnora. She’ll no doubt need them more now than she willthen, and we can give them just as well. That’s yours, and this is mine, orwhichever way you choose.”

Wesley untied a good brown umbrella and shook out the folds of a long, brownraincoat. Margaret dropped the hat, arose and took the coat. She tried it on,felt it, cooed over it and matched it with the umbrella.

“Did it look anything like rain to-night?” she inquired so anxiously thatWesley laughed.

“And this last bundle?” she said, dropping back in her chair, the coat stillover her shoulders.

“I couldn’t buy this much stuff for any other woman and nothing for my own,”said Wesley. “It’s Christmas for you, too, Margaret!” He shook out fold afterfold of soft gray satiny goods that would look lovely against Margaret’s pinkcheeks and whitening hair.

“Oh, you old darling!” she exclaimed, and fled sobbing into his arms.

But she soon dried her eyes, raked together the coals in the cooking stove andboiled one of the dress patterns in salt water for half an hour. Wesley heldthe lamp while she hung the goods on the line to dry. Then she set the irons onthe stove so they would be hot the first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER III

WHEREIN ELNORA VISITS THE BIRD WOMAN, AND OPENS A BANK ACCOUNT

Four o’clock the following morning Elnora was shelling beans. At six she fedthe chickens and pigs, swept two of the rooms of the cabin, built a fire, andput on the kettle for breakfast. Then she climbed the narrow stairs to theattic she had occupied since a very small child, and dressed in the hated shoesand brown calico, plastered down her crisp curls, ate what breakfast she could,and pinning on her hat started for town.

“There is no sense in your going for an hour yet,” said her mother.

“I must try to discover some way to earn those books,” replied Elnora. “I amperfectly positive I shall not find them lying beside the road wrapped intissue paper, and tagged with my name.”

She went toward the city as on yesterday. Her perplexity as to where tuitionand books were to come from was worse but she did not feel quite so badly. Shenever again would have to face all of it for the first time. There had beentimes yesterday when she had prayed to be hidden, or to drop dead, and neitherhad happened. “I believe the best way to get an answer to prayer is to work forit,” muttered Elnora grimly.

Again she followed the trail to the swamp, rearranged her hair and left the tinpail. This time she folded a couple of sandwiches in the napkin, and tied themin a neat light paper parcel which she carried in her hand. Then she hurriedalong the road to Onabasha and found a book-store. There she asked the pricesof the list of books that she needed, and learned that six dollars would notquite supply them. She anxiously inquired for second-hand books, but was toldthat the only way to secure them was from the last year’s Freshmen. Just thenElnora felt that she positively could not approach any of those she supposed tobe Sophomores and ask to buy their old books. The only balm the girl could seefor the humiliation of yesterday was to appear that day with a set of newbooks.

“Do you wish these?” asked the clerk hurriedly, for the store was rapidlyfilling with school children wanting anything from a dictionary to a pen.

“Yes,” gasped Elnora, “Oh, yes! But I cannot pay for them just now. Please letme take them, and I will pay for them on Friday, or return them as perfect asthey are. Please trust me for them a few days.”

“I’ll ask the proprietor,” he said. When he came back Elnora knew the answerbefore he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but Mr. Hann doesn’t recognize your name. You are not acustomer of ours, and he feels that he can’t take the risk.”

Elnora clumped out of the store, the thump of her heavy shoes beating as ahammer on her brain. She tried two other dealers with the same result, and thenin sick despair came into the street. What could she do? She was too frightenedto think. Should she stay from school that day and canvass the homes appearingto belong to the wealthy, and try to sell beds of wild ferns, as she hadsuggested to Wesley Sinton? What would she dare ask for bringing in andplanting a clump of ferns? How could she carry them? Would people buy them? Sheslowly moved past the hotel and then glanced around to see if there were aclock anywhere, for she felt sure the young people passing her constantly wereon their way to school.

There it stood in a bank window in big black letters staring straight at her:

WANTED: CATERPILLARS, COCOONS, CHRYSALIDES, PUPAE CASES, BUTTERFLIES, MOTHS,INDIAN RELICS OF ALL KINDS. HIGHEST SCALE OF PRICES PAID IN CASH

Elnora caught the wicket at the cashier’s desk with both hands to brace herselfagainst disappointment.

“Who is it wants to buy cocoons, butterflies, and moths?” she panted.

“The Bird Woman,” answered the cashier. “Have you some for sale?”

“I have some, I do not know if they are what she would want.”

“Well, you had better see her,” said the cashier. “Do you know where shelives?”

“Yes,” said Elnora. “Would you tell me the time?”

“Twenty-one after eight,” was the answer.

She had nine minutes to reach the auditorium or be late. Should she go toschool, or to the Bird Woman? Several girls passed her walking swiftly and sheremembered their faces. They were hurrying to school. Elnora caught theinfection. She would see the Bird Woman at noon. Algebra came first, and thatprofessor was kind. Perhaps she could slip to the superintendent and ask himfor a book for the next lesson, and at noon—“Oh, dear Lord make it cometrue,” prayed Elnora, at noon possibly she could sell some of those wonderfulshining-winged things she had been collecting all her life around the outskirtsof the Limberlost.

As she went down the long hall she noticed the professor of mathematicsstanding in the door of his recitation room. When she passed him he smiled andspoke to her.

“I have been watching for you,” he said, and Elnora stopped bewildered.

“For me?” she questioned.

“Yes,” said Professor Henley. “Step inside.”

Elnora followed him into the room and closed the door behind them.

“At teachers’ meeting last evening, one of the professors mentioned that apupil had betrayed in class that she had expected her books to be furnished bythe city. I thought possibly it was you. Was it?”

“Yes,” breathed Elnora.

“That being the case,” said Professor Henley, “it just occurred to me as youhad expected that, you might require a little time to secure them, and you aretoo fine a mathematician to fall behind for want of supplies. So I telephonedone of our Sophomores to bring her last year’s books this morning. I am sorryto say they are somewhat abused, but the text is all here. You can have themfor two dollars, and pay when you are ready. Would you care to take them?”

Elnora sat suddenly, because she could not stand another instant. She reachedboth hands for the books, and said never a word. The professor was silent also.

At last Elnora arose, hugging those books to her heart as a mother clasps ababy.

“One thing more,” said the professor. “You may pay your tuition quarterly. Youneed not bother about the first instalment this month. Any time in October willdo.”

It seemed as if Elnora’s gasp of relief must have reached the soles of herbrogans.

“Did any one ever tell you how beautiful you are!” she cried.

As the professor was lank, tow-haired and so near-sighted, that he peered athis pupils through spectacles, no one ever had.

“No,” said Professor Henley, “I’ve waited some time for that; for which reasonI shall appreciate it all the more. Come now, or we shall be late for openingexercises.”

So Elnora entered the auditorium a second time. Her face was like the brightestdawn that ever broke over the Limberlost. No matter about the lumbering shoesand skimpy dress. No matter about anything, she had the books. She could takethem home. In her garret she could commit them to memory, if need be. She couldprove that clothes were not all. If the Bird Woman did not want any of the manydifferent kinds of specimens she had collected, she was quite sure now shecould sell ferns, nuts, and a great many things. Then, too, a girl made a placefor her that morning, and several smiled and bowed. Elnora forgot everythingsave her books, and that she was where she could use themintelligently—everything except one little thing away back in her head.Her mother had known about the books and the tuition, and had not told her whenshe agreed to her coming.

At noon Elnora took her little parcel of lunch and started to the home of theBird Woman. She must know about the specimens first and then she would walk tothe suburbs somewhere and eat a few bites. She dropped the heavy iron knockeron the door of a big red log cabin, and her heart thumped at the resoundingstroke.

“Is the Bird Woman at home?” she asked of the maid.

“She is at lunch,” was the answer.

“Please ask her if she will see a girl from the Limberlost about some moths?”inquired Elnora.

“I never need ask, if it’s moths,” laughed the girl. “Orders are to bring anyone with specimens right in. Come this way.”

Elnora followed down the hall and entered a long room with high panelledwainscoting, old English fireplace with an overmantel and closets of peculiarchina filling the corners. At a bare table of oak, yellow as gold, sat a womanElnora often had watched and followed covertly around the Limberlost. The BirdWoman was holding out a hand of welcome.

“I heard!” she laughed. “A little pasteboard box, or just the mere word‘specimen,’ passes you at my door. If it is moths I hope you have hundreds.I’ve been very busy all summer and unable to collect, and I need so many. Sitdown and lunch with me, while we talk it over. From the Limberlost, did yousay?”

“I live near the swamp,” replied Elnora. “Since it’s so cleared I dare goaround the edge in daytime, though we are all afraid at night.”

“What have you collected?” asked the Bird Woman, as she helped Elnora tosandwiches unlike any she ever before had tasted, salad that seemed to be madeof many familiar things, and a cup of hot chocolate that would have delightedany hungry schoolgirl.

“I am afraid I am bothering you for nothing, and imposing on you,” she said.“That ‘collected’ frightens me. I’ve only gathered. I always loved everythingoutdoors, so I made friends and playmates of them. When I learned that themoths die so soon, I saved them especially, because there seemed no wickednessin it.”

“I have thought the same thing,” said the Bird Woman encouragingly. Thenbecause the girl could not eat until she learned about the moths, the BirdWoman asked Elnora if she knew what kinds she had.

“Not all of them,” answered Elnora. “Before Mr. Duncan moved away he often sawme near the edge of the swamp and he showed me the box he had fixed forFreckles, and gave me the key. There were some books and things, so from thattime on I studied and tried to take moths right, but I am afraid they are notwhat you want.”

“Are they the big ones that fly mostly in June nights?” asked the Bird Woman.

“Yes,” said Elnora. “Big gray ones with reddish markings, pale blue-green,yellow with lavender, and red and yellow.”

“What do you mean by ‘red and yellow?’” asked the Bird Woman so quickly thatthe girl almost jumped.

“Not exactly red,” explained Elnora, with tremulous voice. “A reddish,yellowish brown, with canary-coloured spots and gray lines on their wings.”

“How many of them?” It was the same quick question.

“I had over two hundred eggs,” said Elnora, “but some of them didn’t hatch, andsome of the caterpillars died, but there must be at least a hundred perfectones.”

“Perfect! How perfect?” cried the Bird Woman.

“I mean whole wings, no down gone, and all their legs and antennae,” falteredElnora.

“Young woman, that’s the rarest moth in America,” said the Bird Woman solemnly.“If you have a hundred of them, they are worth a hundred dollars according tomy list. I can use all that are not damaged.”

“What if they are not pinned right,” quavered Elnora.

“If they are perfect, that does not make the slightest difference. I know howto soften them so that I can put them into any shape I choose. Where are they?When may I see them?”

“They are in Freckles’s old case in the Limberlost,” said Elnora. “I couldn’tcarry many for fear of breaking them, but I could bring a few after school.”

“You come here at four,” said the Bird Woman, “and we will drive out with somespecimen boxes, and a price list, and see what you have to sell. Are they yourvery own? Are you free to part with them?”

“They are mine,” said Elnora. “No one but God knows I have them. Mr. Duncangave me the books and the box. He told Freckles about me, and Freckles told himto give me all he left. He said for me to stick to the swamp and be brave, andmy hour would come, and it has! I know most of them are all right, and oh, I doneed the money!”

“Could you tell me?” asked the Bird Woman softly.

“You see the swamp and all the fields around it are so full,” explained Elnora.“Every day I felt smaller and smaller, and I wanted to know more and more, andpretty soon I grew desperate, just as Freckles did. But I am better off than hewas, for I have his books, and I have a mother; even if she doesn’t care for meas other girls’ mothers do for them, it’s better than no one.”

The Bird Woman’s glance fell, for the girl was not conscious of how much shewas revealing. Her eyes were fixed on a black pitcher filled with goldenrod inthe centre of the table and she was saying what she thought.

“As long as I could go to the Brushwood school I was happy, but I couldn’t gofurther just when things were the most interesting, so I was determined I’dcome to high school and mother wouldn’t consent. You see there’s plenty ofland, but father was drowned when I was a baby, and mother and I can’t makemoney as men do. The taxes are higher every year, and she said it was tooexpensive. I wouldn’t give her any rest, until at last she bought me thisdress, and these shoes and I came. It was awful!”

“Do you live in that beautiful cabin at the northwest end of the swamp?” askedthe Bird Woman.

“Yes,” said Elnora.

“I remember the place and a story about it, now. You entered the high schoolyesterday?”

“Yes.”

“It was rather bad?”

“Rather bad!” echoed Elnora.

The Bird Woman laughed.

“You can’t tell me anything about that,” she said. “I once entered a cityschool straight from the country. My dress was brown calico, and my shoes wereheavy.”

The tears began to roll down Elnora’s cheeks.

“Did they——?” she faltered.

“They did!” said the Bird Woman. “All of it. I am sure they did not miss oneleast little thing.”

Then she wiped away some tears that began coursing her cheeks, and laughed atthe same time.

“Where are they now?” asked Elnora suddenly.

“They are widely scattered, but none of them have attained heights out ofrange. Some of the rich are poor, and some of the poor are rich. Some of thebrightest died insane, and some of the dullest worked out high positions; someof the very worst to bear have gone out, and I frequently hear from others. NowI am here, able to remember it, and mingle laughter with what used to be alltears; for every day I have my beautiful work, and almost every day God sendssome one like you to help me. What is your name, my girl?”

“Elnora Comstock,” answered Elnora. “Yesterday on the board it changed toCornstock, and for a minute I thought I’d die, but I can laugh over thatalready.”

The Bird Woman arose and kissed her. “Finish your lunch,” she said, “and I willbring my price lists, and make a memorandum of what you think you have, so Iwill know how many boxes to prepare. And remember this: What you are lies withyou. If you are lazy, and accept your lot, you may live in it. If you arewilling to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the onlyones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books thathelp, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures, and work for others.Never mind the calico dress, and the coarse shoes. Work at your books, andbefore long you will hear yesterday’s tormentors boasting that they were onceclassmates of yours. ‘I could a tale unfold’——!”

She laughingly left the room and Elnora sat thinking, until she remembered howhungry she was, so she ate the food, drank the hot chocolate and began to feelbetter.

Then the Bird Woman came back and showed Elnora a long printed slip giving alist of graduated prices for moths, butterflies, and dragonflies.

“Oh, do you want them!” exulted Elnora. “I have a few and I can get more by thethousand, with every colour in the world on their wings.”

“Yes,” said the Bird Woman, “I will buy them, also the big moth caterpillarsthat are creeping everywhere now, and the cocoons that they will spin justabout this time. I have a sneaking impression that the mystery, wonder, and theurge of their pure beauty, are going to force me to picture and paint our mothsand put them into a book for all the world to see and know. We Limberlostpeople must not be selfish with the wonders God has given to us. We must sharewith those poor cooped-up city people the best we can. To send them a beautifulbook, that is the way, is it not, little new friend of mine?”

“Yes, oh yes!” cried Elnora. “And please God they find a way to earn the moneyto buy the books, as I have those I need so badly.”

“I will pay good prices for all the moths you can find,” said the Bird Woman,“because you see I exchange them with foreign collectors. I want a completeseries of the moths of America to trade with a German scientist, another with aman in India, and another in Brazil. Others I can exchange with home collectorsfor those of California and Canada, so you see I can use all you can raise, orfind. The banker will buy stone axes, arrow points, and Indian pipes. There wasa teacher from the city grade schools here to-day for specimens. There is afund to supply the ward buildings. I’ll help you get in touch with that. Theywant leaves of different trees, flowers, grasses, moths, insects, birds’ nestsand anything about birds.”

Elnora’s eyes were blazing. “Had I better go back to school or open a bankaccount and begin being a millionaire? Uncle Wesley and I have a bushel ofarrow points gathered, a stack of axes, pipes, skin-dressing tools, tubes andmortars. I don’t know how I ever shall wait three hours.”

“You must go, or you will be late,” said the Bird Woman. “I will be ready atfour.”

After school closed Elnora, seated beside the Bird Woman, drove to Freckles’sroom in the Limberlost. One at a time the beautiful big moths were taken fromthe interior of the old black case. Not a fourth of them could be moved thatnight and it was almost dark when the last box was closed, the list figured,and into Elnora’s trembling fingers were paid fifty-nine dollars and sixteencents. Elnora clasped the money closely.

“Oh you beautiful stuff!” she cried. “You are going to buy the books, pay thetuition, and take me to high school.”

Then because she was a woman, she sat on a log and looked at her shoes. Longafter the Bird Woman drove away Elnora remained. She had her problem, and itwas a big one. If she told her mother, would she take the money to pay thetaxes? If she did not tell her, how could she account for the books, and thingsfor which she would spend it. At last she counted out what she needed for thenext day, placed the remainder in the farthest corner of the case, and lockedthe door. She then filled the front of her skirt from a heap of arrow pointsbeneath the case and started home.

CHAPTER IV

WHEREIN THE SINTONS ARE DISAPPOINTED, AND MRS. COMSTOCK LEARNS THAT SHE CANLAUGH

With the first streak of red above the Limberlost Margaret Sinton was busy withthe gingham and the intricate paper pattern she had purchased. Wesley cookedthe breakfast and worked until he thought Elnora would be gone, then he startedto bring her mother.

“Now you be mighty careful,” cautioned Margaret. “I don’t know how she willtake it.”

“I don’t either,” said Wesley philosophically, “but she’s got to take it someway. That dress has to be finished by school time in the morning.”

Wesley had not slept well that night. He had been so busy framing diplomaticspeeches to make to Mrs. Comstock that sleep had little chance with him. Everystep nearer to her he approached his position seemed less enviable. By the timehe reached the front gate and started down the walk between the rows of astersand lady slippers he was perspiring, and every plausible and convincing speechhad fled his brain. Mrs. Comstock helped him. She met him at the door.

“Good morning,” she said. “Did Margaret send you for something?”

“Yes,” said Wesley. “She’s got a job that’s too big for her, and she wants youto help.”

“Of course I will,” said Mrs. Comstock. It was no one’s affair how lonely theprevious day had been, or how the endless hours of the present would drag.“What is she doing in such a rush?”

Now was his chance.

“She’s making a dress for Elnora,” answered, Wesley. He saw Mrs. Comstock’sform straighten, and her face harden, so he continued hastily. “You see Elnorahas been helping us at harvest time, butchering, and with unexpected visitorsfor years. We’ve made out that she’s saved us a considerable sum, and as shewouldn’t ever touch any pay for anything, we just went to town and got a fewclothes we thought would fix her up a little for the high school. We want toget a dress done to-day mighty bad, but Margaret is slow about sewing, and shenever can finish alone, so I came after you.”

“And it’s such a simple little matter, so dead easy; and all so between oldfriends like, that you can’t look above your boots while you explain it,”sneered Mrs. Comstock. “Wesley Sinton, what put the idea into your head thatElnora would take things bought with money, when she wouldn’t take the money?”

Then Sinton’s eyes came up straightly.

“Finding her on the trail last night sobbing as hard as I ever saw any one at afuneral. She wasn’t complaining at all, but she’s come to me all her life withher little hurts, and she couldn’t hide how she’d been laughed at, twitted, andrun face to face against the fact that there were books and tuition,unexpected, and nothing will ever make me believe you didn’t know that, KateComstock.”

“If any doubts are troubling you on that subject, sure I knew it! She was soanxious to try the world, I thought I’d just let her take a few knocks and seehow she liked them.”

“As if she’d ever taken anything but knocks all her life!” cried Wesley Sinton.“Kate Comstock, you are a heartless, selfish woman. You’ve never shown Elnoraany real love in her life. If ever she finds out that thing you’ll lose her,and it will serve you right.”

“She knows it now,” said Mrs. Comstock icily, “and she’ll be home to-night justas usual.”

“Well, you are a brave woman if you dared put a girl of Elnora’s make throughwhat she suffered yesterday, and will suffer again to-day, and let her know youdid it on purpose. I admire your nerve. But I’ve watched this since Elnora wasborn, and I got enough. Things have come to a pass where they go better forher, or I interfere.”

“As if you’d ever done anything but interfere all her life! Think I haven’twatched you? Think I, with my heart raw in my breast, and too numb to resent itopenly, haven’t seen you and Mag Sinton trying to turn Elnora against me dayafter day? When did you ever tell her what her father meant to me? When did youever try to make her see the wreck of my life, and what I’ve suffered? Noindeed! Always it’s been poor little abused Elnora, and cakes, kissing, extraclothes, and encouraging her to run to you with a pitiful mouth every time Itried to make a woman of her.”

“Kate Comstock, that’s unjust,” cried Sinton. “Only last night I tried to showher the picture I saw the day she was born. I begged her to come to you andtell you pleasant what she needed, and ask you for what I happen to know youcan well afford to give her.”

“I can’t!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You know I can’t!”

“Then get so you can!” said Wesley Sinton. “Any day you say the word you cansell six thousand worth of rare timber off this place easy. I’ll see toclearing and working the fields cheap as dirt, for Elnora’s sake. I’ll buy youmore cattle to fatten. All you’ve got to do is sign a lease, to pull thousandsfrom the ground in oil, as the rest of us are doing all around you!”

“Cut down Robert’s trees!” shrieked Mrs. Comstock. “Tear up his land! Covereverything with horrid, greasy oil! I’ll die first.”

“You mean you’ll let Elnora go like a beggar, and hurt and mortify her pastbearing. I’ve got to the place where I tell you plain what I am going to do.Maggie and I went to town last night, and we bought what things Elnora needsmost urgent to make her look a little like the rest of the high school girls.Now here it is in plain English. You can help get these things ready, and letus give them to her as we want——”

“She won’t touch them!” cried Mrs. Comstock.

“Then you can pay us, and she can take them as her right——”

“I won’t!”

“Then I will tell Elnora just what you are worth, what you can afford, and howmuch of this she owns. I’ll loan her the money to buy books and decent clothes,and when she is of age she can sell her share and pay me.”

Mrs. Comstock gripped a chair-back and opened her lips, but no words came.

“And,” Sinton continued, “if she is so much like you that she won’t do that,I’ll go to the county seat and lay complaint against you as her guardian beforethe judge. I’ll swear to what you are worth, and how you are raising her, andhave you discharged, or have the judge appoint some man who will see that sheis comfortable, educated, and decent looking!”

“You—you wouldn’t!” gasped Kate Comstock.

“I won’t need to, Kate!” said Sinton, his heart softening the instant the hardwords were said. “You won’t show it, but you do love Elnora! You can’t help it!You must see how she needs things; come help us fix them, and be friends.Maggie and I couldn’t live without her, and you couldn’t either. You’ve got tolove such a fine girl as she is; let it show a little!”

“You can hardly expect me to love her,” said Mrs. Comstock coldly. “But for hera man would stand back of me now, who would beat the breath out of yoursneaking body for the cowardly thing with which you threaten me. After all I’vesuffered you’d drag me to court and compel me to tear up Robert’s property. IfI ever go they carry me. If they touch one tree, or put down one greasy old oilwell, it will be over all I can shoot, before they begin. Now, see how quickyou can clear out of here!”

“You won’t come and help Maggie with the dress?”

For answer Mrs. Comstock looked around swiftly for some object on which to layher hands. Knowing her temper, Wesley Sinton left with all the haste consistentwith dignity. But he did not go home. He crossed a field, and in an hourbrought another neighbour who was skilful with her needle. With sinking heartMargaret saw them coming.

“Kate is too busy to help to-day, she can’t sew before to-morrow,” said Wesleycheerfully as they entered.

That quieted Margaret’s apprehension a little, though she had some doubts.Wesley prepared the lunch, and by four o’clock the dress was finished as far asit possibly could be until it was fitted on Elnora. If that did not entail toomuch work, it could be completed in two hours.

Then Margaret packed their purchases into the big market basket. Wesley tookthe hat, umbrella, and raincoat, and they went to Mrs. Comstock’s. As theyreached the step, Margaret spoke pleasantly to Mrs. Comstock, who sat readingjust inside the door, but she did not answer and deliberately turned a leafwithout looking up.

Wesley Sinton opened the door and went in followed by Margaret.

“Kate,” he said, “you needn’t take out your mad over our little racket onMaggie. I ain’t told her a word I said to you, or you said to me. She’s not sovery strong, and she’s sewed since four o’clock this morning to get this dressready for to-morrow. It’s done and we came down to try it on Elnora.”

“Is that the truth, Mag Sinton?” demanded Mrs. Comstock.

“You heard Wesley say so,” proudly affirmed Mrs. Sinton.

“I want to make you a proposition,” said Wesley. “Wait till Elnora comes. Thenwe’ll show her the things and see what she says.”

“How would it do to see what she says without bribing her,” sneered Mrs.Comstock.

“If she can stand what she did yesterday, and will to-day, she can bear ’mostanything,” said Wesley. “Put away the clothes if you want to, till we tellher.”

“Well, you don’t take this waist I’m working on,” said Margaret, “for I have tobaste in the sleeves and set the collar. Put the rest out of sight if youlike.”

Mrs. Comstock picked up the basket and bundles, placed them inside her room andclosed the door.

Margaret threaded her needle and began to sew. Mrs. Comstock returned to herbook, while Wesley fidgeted and raged inwardly. He could see that Margaret wasnervous and almost in tears, but the lines in Mrs. Comstock’s impassive facewere set and cold. So they sat while the clock ticked off the time—onehour, two, dusk, and no Elnora. Just when Margaret and Wesley were discussingwhether he had not better go to town to meet Elnora, they heard her coming upthe walk. Wesley dropped his tilted chair and squared himself. Margaret grippedher sewing, and turned pleading eyes toward the door. Mrs. Comstock closed herbook and grimly smiled.

“Mother, please open the door,” called Elnora.

Mrs. Comstock arose, and swung back the screen. Elnora stepped in beside her,bent half double, the whole front of her dress gathered into a sort of bagfilled with a heavy load, and one arm stacked high with books. In the dim lightshe did not see the Sintons.

“Please hand me the empty bucket in the kitchen, mother,” she said. “I just hadto bring these arrow points home, but I’m scared for fear I’ve spoiled my dressand will have to wash it. I’m to clean them, and take them to the banker in themorning, and oh, mother, I’ve sold enough stuff to pay for my books, mytuition, and maybe a dress and some lighter shoes besides. Oh, mother I’m sohappy! Take the books and bring the bucket!”

Then she saw Margaret and Wesley. “Oh, glory!” she exulted. “I was justwondering how I’d ever wait to tell you, and here you are! It’s too perfectlysplendid to be true!”

“Tell us, Elnora,” said Sinton.

“Well sir,” said Elnora, doubling down on the floor and spreading out herskirt, “set the bucket here, mother. These points are brittle, and should beput in one at a time. If they are chipped I can’t sell them. Well sir! I’ve hada time! You know I just had to have books. I tried three stores, and theywouldn’t trust me, not even three days, I didn’t know what in this world Icould do quickly enough. Just when I was almost frantic I saw a sign in a bankwindow asking for caterpillars, cocoons, butterflies, arrow points, andeverything. I went in, and it was this Bird Woman who wants the insects, andthe banker wants the stones. I had to go to school then, but, if you’ll believeit”—Elnora beamed on all of them in turn as she talked and slipped thearrow points from her dress to the pail—“if you’ll believe it—butyou won’t, hardly, until you look at the books—there was the mathematicsteacher, waiting at his door, and he had a set of books for me that he hadtelephoned a Sophomore to bring.”

“How did he happen to do that, Elnora?” interrupted Sinton.

Elnora blushed.

“It was a fool mistake I made yesterday in thinking books were just handed outto one. There was a teachers’ meeting last night and the history teacher toldabout that. Professor Henley thought of me. You know I told you what he saidabout my algebra, mother. Ain’t I glad I studied out some of it myself thissummer! So he telephoned and a girl brought the books. Because they are markedand abused some I get the whole outfit for two dollars. I can erase most of themarks, paste down the covers, and fix them so they look better. But I musthurry to the joy part. I didn’t stop to eat, at noon, I just ran to the BirdWoman’s, and I had lunch with her. It was salad, hot chocolate, and lovelythings, and she wants to buy most every old scrap I ever gathered. She wantsdragonflies, moths, butterflies, and he—the banker, I mean—wantseverything Indian. This very night she came to the swamp with me and took awayenough stuff to pay for the books and tuition, and to-morrow she is going tobuy some more.”

Elnora laid the last arrow point in the pail and arose, shaking leaves and bitsof baked earth from her dress. She reached into her pocket, produced her moneyand waved it before their wondering eyes.

“And that’s the joy part!” she exulted. “Put it up in the clock till morning,mother. That pays for the books and tuition and—” Elnora hesitated, forshe saw the nervous grasp with which her mother’s fingers closed on the bills.Then she continued, but more slowly and thinking before she spoke.

“What I get to-morrow pays for more books and tuition, and maybe a few, just afew, things to wear. These shoes are so dreadfully heavy and hot, and they makesuch a noise on the floor. There isn’t another calico dress in the wholebuilding, not among hundreds of us. Why, what is that? Aunt Margaret, what areyou hiding in your lap?”

She snatched the waist and shook it out, and her face was beaming. “Have youtaken to waists all fancy and buttoned in the back? I bet you this is mine!”

“I bet you so too,” said Margaret Sinton. “You undress right away and try iton, and if it fits, it will be done for morning. There are some low shoes,too!”

Elnora began to dance. “Oh, you dear people!” she cried. “I can pay for themto-morrow night! Isn’t it too splendid! I was just thinking on the way homethat I certainly would be compelled to have cooler shoes until later, and I waswondering what I’d do when the fall rains begin.”

“I meant to get you some heavy dress skirts and a coat then,” said Mrs.Comstock.

“I know you said so!” cried Elnora. “But you needn’t, now! I can buy everysingle stitch I need myself. Next summer I can gather up a lot more stuff, andall winter on the way to school. I am sure I can sell ferns, I know I can nuts,and the Bird Woman says the grade rooms want leaves, grasses, birds’ nests, andcocoons. Oh, isn’t this world lovely! I’ll be helping with the tax, next,mother!”

Elnora waved the waist and started for the bedroom. When she opened the doorshe gave a little cry.

“What have you people been doing?” she demanded. “I never saw so manyinteresting bundles in all my life. I’m ‘skeered’ to death for fear I can’t payfor them, and will have to give up something.”

“Wouldn’t you take them, if you could not pay for them, Elnora?” asked hermother instantly.

“Why, not unless you did,” answered Elnora. “People have no right to wearthings they can’t afford, have they?”

“But from such old friends as Maggie and Wesley!” Mrs. Comstock’s voice wasoily with triumph.

“From them least of all,” cried Elnora stoutly. “From a stranger sooner thanfrom them, to whom I owe so much more than I ever can pay now.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Maggie just selected thesethings, because she is more in touch with the world, and has got such goodtaste. You can pay as long as your money holds out, and if there’s morenecessary, maybe I can sell the butcher a calf, or if things are too costly forus, of course, they can take them back. Put on the waist now, and then you canlook over the rest and see if they are suitable, and what you want.”

Elnora stepped into the adjoining room and closed the door. Mrs. Comstockpicked up the bucket and started for the well with it. At the bedroom shepaused.

“Elnora, were you going to wash these arrow points?”

“Yes. The Bird Woman says they sell better if they are clean, so it can be seenthat there are no defects in them.”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Some of them seem quite baked. Shall I putthem to soak? Do you want to take them in the morning?”

“Yes, I do,” answered Elnora. “If you would just fill the pail with water.”

Mrs. Comstock left the room. Wesley Sinton sat with his back to the window inthe west end of the cabin which overlooked the well. A suppressed sound behindhim caused him to turn quickly. Then he arose and leaned over Margaret.

“She’s out there laughing like a blamed monkey!” he whispered indignantly.

“Well, she can’t help it!” exclaimed Margaret.

“I’m going home!” said Wesley.

“Oh no, you are not!” retorted Margaret. “You are missing the point. The pointis not how you look, or feel. It is to get these things in Elnora’s possessionpast dispute. You go now, and to-morrow Elnora will wear calico, and KateComstock will return these goods. Right here I stay until everything we boughtis Elnora’s.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Wesley.

“I don’t know yet, myself,” said Margaret.

Then she arose and peered from the window. At the well curb stood KatharineComstock. The strain of the day was finding reaction. Her chin was in the air,she was heaving, shaking and strangling to suppress any sound. The word thatslipped between Margaret Sinton’s lips shocked Wesley until he dropped on hischair, and recalled her to her senses. She was fairly composed as she turned toElnora, and began the fitting. When she had pinched, pulled, and patted shecalled, “Come see if you think this fits, Kate.”

Mrs. Comstock had gone around to the back door and answered from the kitchen.“You know more about it than I do. Go ahead! I’m getting supper. Don’t forgetto allow for what it will shrink in washing!”

“I set the colours and washed the goods last night; it can be made to fit rightnow,” answered Margaret.

When she could find nothing more to alter she told Elnora to heat some water.After she had done that the girl began opening packages.

The hat came first.

“Mother!” cried Elnora. “Mother, of course, you have seen this, but you haven’tseen it on me. I must try it on.”

“Don’t you dare put that on your head until your hair is washed and properlycombed,” said Margaret.

“Oh!” cried Elnora. “Is that water to wash my hair? I thought it was to set thecolour in another dress.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” said Margaret simply. “Your hair is going to bewashed and brushed until it shines like copper. While it dries you can eat yoursupper, and this dress will be finished. Then you can put on your new ribbon,and your hat. You can try your shoes now, and if they don’t fit, you and Wesleycan drive to town and change them. That little round bundle on the top of thebasket is your stockings.”

Margaret sat down and began sewing swiftly, and a little later opened themachine, and ran several long seams.

Elnora returned in a few minutes holding up her skirts and stepping daintily inthe new shoes.

“Don’t soil them, honey, else you’re sure they fit,” cautioned Wesley.

“They seem just a trifle large, maybe,” said Elnora dubiously, and Wesley kneltto feel. He and Margaret thought them a fit, and then Elnora appealed to hermother. Mrs. Comstock appeared wiping her hands on her apron. She examined theshoes critically.

“They seem to fit,” she said, “but they are away too fine to walk countryroads.”

“I think so, too,” said Elnora instantly. “We had better take these back andget a cheaper pair.”

“Oh, let them go for this time,” said Mrs. Comstock. “They are so pretty, Ihate to part with them. You can get cheaper ones after this.”

Wesley and Margaret scarcely breathed for a long time.

When Wesley went to do the feeding. Elnora set the table. When the water washot, Margaret pinned a big towel around Elnora’s shoulders and washed and driedthe lovely hair according to the instructions she had been given the previousnight. As the hair began to dry it billowed out in a sparkling sheen thatcaught the light and gleamed and flashed.

“Now, the idea is to let it stand naturally, just as the curl will make it.Don’t you do any of that nasty, untidy snarling, Elnora,” cautioned Margaret.“Wash it this way every two weeks while you are in school, shake it out, anddry it. Then part it in the middle and turn a front quarter on each side fromyour face. You tie the back at your neck with a string—so, and the ribbongoes in a big, loose bow. I’ll show you.” One after another Margaret Sintontied the ribbons, creasing each of them so they could not be returned, as sheexplained that she was trying to find the colour most becoming. Then sheproduced the raincoat which carried Elnora into transports.

Mrs. Comstock objected. “That won’t be warm enough for cold weather, and youcan’t afford it and a coat, too.”

“I’ll tell you what I thought,” said Elnora. “I was planning on the way home.These coats are fine because they keep you dry. I thought I would get one, anda warm sweater to wear under it cold days. Then I always would be dry, andwarm. The sweater only costs three dollars, so I could get it and the raincoatboth for half the price of a heavy cloth coat.”

“You are right about that,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You can change more with theweather, too. Keep the raincoat, Elnora.”

“Wear it until you try the hat,” said Margaret. “It will have to do until thedress is finished.”

Elnora picked up the hat dubiously. “Mother, may I wear my hair as it is now?”she asked.

“Let me take a good look,” said Katharine Comstock.

Heaven only knows what she saw. To Wesley and to Margaret the bright young faceof Elnora, with its pink tints, its heavy dark brows, its bright blue-grayeyes, and its frame of curling reddish-brown hair was the sweetest sight onearth, and at that instant Elnora was radiant.

“So long as it’s your own hair, and combed back as plain as it will go, I don’tsuppose it cuts much ice whether it’s tied a little tighter or looser,”conceded Mrs. Comstock. “If you stop right there, you may let it go at that.”

Elnora set the hat on her head. It was only a wide tan straw with threeexquisite peacock quills at one side. Margaret Sinton cried out, Wesley slappedhis knee and sighed deeply while Mrs. Comstock stood speechless for a second.

“I wish you had asked the price before you put that on,” she said impatiently.“We never can afford it.”

“It’s not so much as you think,” said Margaret. “Don’t you see what I did? Ihad them take off the quills, and put on some of those Phoebe Simms gave mefrom her peacocks. The hat will only cost you a dollar and a half.”

She avoided Wesley’s eyes, and looked straight at Mrs. Comstock. Elnora removedthe hat to examine it.

“Why, they are those reddish-tan quills of yours!” she cried. “Mother, look howbeautifully they are set on! I’d much rather have them than those from thestore.”

“So would I,” said Mrs. Comstock. “If Margaret wants to spare them, that willmake you a beautiful hat; dirt cheap, too! You must go past Mrs. Simms and showher. She would be pleased to see them.”

Elnora sank into a chair and contemplated her toe. “Landy, ain’t I a queen?”she murmured. “What else have I got?”

“Just a belt, some handkerchiefs, and a pair of top shoes for rainy days andcolder weather,” said Margaret.

“About those high shoes, that was my idea,” said Wesley. “Soon as it rains, lowshoes won’t do, and by taking two pairs at once I could get them some cheaper.The low ones are two and the high ones two fifty, together three seventy-five.Ain’t that cheap?”

“That’s a real bargain,” said Mrs. Comstock, “if they are good shoes, and theylook it.”

“This,” said Wesley, producing the last package, “is your Christmas presentfrom your Aunt Maggie. I got mine, too, but it’s at the house. I’ll bring it upin the morning.”

He handed Margaret the umbrella, and she passed it over to Elnora who opened itand sat laughing under its shelter. Then she kissed both of them. She brought apencil and a slip of paper to set down the prices they gave her of everythingthey had brought except the umbrella, added the sum, and said laughingly: “Willyou please wait till to-morrow for the money? I will have it then, sure.”

“Elnora,” said Wesley Sinton. “Wouldn’t you——”

“Elnora, hustle here a minute!” called Mrs. Comstock from the kitchen. “I needyou!”

“One second, mother,” answered Elnora, throwing off the coat and hat, andclosing the umbrella as she ran. There were several errands to do in a hurry,and then supper. Elnora chattered incessantly, Wesley and Margaret talked allthey could, while Mrs. Comstock said a word now and then, which was all sheever did. But Wesley Sinton was watching her, and time and again he saw apeculiar little twist around her mouth. He knew that for the first time insixteen years she really was laughing over something. She had all she could doto preserve her usually sober face. Wesley knew what she was thinking.

After supper the dress was finished, the pattern for the next one discussed,and then the Sintons went home. Elnora gathered her treasures. When she startedupstairs she stopped. “May I kiss you good-night, mother?” she asked lightly.

“Never mind any slobbering,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I should think you’d livedwith me long enough to know that I don’t care for it.”

“Well, I’d love to show you in some way how happy I am, and how I thank you.”

“I wonder what for?” said Mrs. Comstock. “Mag Sinton chose that stuff andbrought it here and you pay for it.”

“Yes, but you seemed willing for me to have it, and you said you would help meif I couldn’t pay all.”

“Maybe I did,” said Mrs. Comstock. “Maybe I did. I meant to get you some heavydress skirts about Thanksgiving, and I still can get them. Go to bed, and forany sake don’t begin mooning before a mirror, and make a dunce of yourself.”

Mrs. Comstock picked up several papers and blew out the kitchen light. Shestood in the middle of the sitting-room floor for a time and then went into herroom and closed the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed she thought for a fewminutes and then suddenly buried her face in the pillow and again heaved withlaughter.

Down the road plodded Margaret and Wesley Sinton. Neither of them had words toutter their united thought.

“Done!” hissed Wesley at last. “Done brown! Did you ever feel like a bloomin’,confounded donkey? How did the woman do it?”

“She didn’t do it!” gulped Margaret through her tears. “She didn’t do anything.She trusted to Elnora’s great big soul to bring her out right, and really shewas right, and so it had to bring her. She’s a darling, Wesley! But she’s got atime before her. Did you see Kate Comstock grab that money? Before six monthsshe’ll be out combing the Limberlost for bugs and arrow points to help pay thetax. I know her.”

“Well, I don’t!” exclaimed Sinton, “she’s too many for me. But there is a laughleft in her yet! I didn’t s’pose there was. Bet you a dollar, if we could seeher this minute, she’d be chuckling over the way we got left.”

Both of them stopped in the road and looked back.

“There’s Elnora’s light in her room,” said Margaret. “The poor child will feelthose clothes, and pore over her books till morning, but she’ll look decent togo to school, anyway. Nothing is too big a price to pay for that.”

“Yes, if Kate lets her wear them. Ten to one, she makes her finish the weekwith that old stuff!”

“No, she won’t,” said Margaret. “She’ll hardly dare. Kate made someconcessions, all right; big ones for her—if she did get her way in themain. She bent some, and if Elnora proves that she can walk out barehanded inthe morning and come back with that much money in her pocket, an armful ofbooks, and buy a turnout like that, she proves that she is of someconsideration, and Kate’s smart enough. She’ll think twice before she’ll dothat. Elnora won’t wear a calico dress to high school again. You watch and seeif she does. She may have the best clothes she’ll get for a time, for the leastmoney, but she won’t know it until she tries to buy goods herself at the samerates. Wesley, what about those prices? Didn’t they shrink considerable?”

“You began it,” said Wesley. “Those prices were all right. We didn’t say whatthe goods cost us, we said what they would cost her. Surely, she’s mistakenabout being able to pay all that. Can she pick up stuff of that value aroundthe Limberlost? Didn’t the Bird Woman see her trouble, and just give her themoney?”

“I don’t think so,” said Margaret. “Seems to me I’ve heard of her paying, oroffering to pay those who would take the money, for bugs and butterflies, andI’ve known people who sold that banker Indian stuff. Once I heard that his pipecollection beat that of the Government at the Philadelphia Centennial. Thosethings have come to have a value.”

“Well, there’s about a bushel of that kind of valuables piled up in thewoodshed, that belongs to Elnora. At least, I picked them up because she saidshe wanted them. Ain’t it queer that she’d take to stones, bugs, andbutterflies, and save them. Now they are going to bring her the very thing shewants the worst. Lord, but this is a funny world when you get to studying!Looks like things didn’t all come by accident. Looks as if there was a planback of it, and somebody driving that knows the road, and how to handle thelines. Anyhow, Elnora’s in the wagon, and when I get out in the night and thedark closes around me, and I see the stars, I don’t feel so cheap. Maggie, howthe nation did Kate Comstock do that?”

“You will keep on harping, Wesley. I told you she didn’t do it. Elnora did it!She walked in and took things right out of our hands. All Kate had to do was toenjoy having it go her way, and she was cute enough to put in a few questionsthat sort of guided Elnora. But I don’t know, Wesley. This thing makes methink, too. S’pose we’d taken Elnora when she was a baby, and we’d heaped onher all the love we can’t on our own, and we’d coddled, petted, and shieldedher, would she have made the woman that living alone, learning to think forherself, and taking all the knocks Kate Comstock could give, have made of her?”

“You bet your life!” cried Wesley, warmly. “Loving anybody don’t hurt them. Wewouldn’t have done anything but love her. You can’t hurt a child loving it.She’d have learned to work, to study, and grown into a woman with us, withoutsuffering like a poor homeless dog.”

“But you don’t see the point, Wesley. She would have grown into a fine womanwith us; but as we would have raised her, would her heart ever have known theworld as it does now? Where’s the anguish, Wesley, that child can’t comprehend?Seeing what she’s seen of her mother hasn’t hardened her. She can understandany mother’s sorrow. Living life from the rough side has only broadened her.Where’s the girl or boy burning with shame, or struggling to find a way, thatwill cross Elnora’s path and not get a lift from her? She’s had the knocks, butthere’ll never be any of the thing you call ‘false pride’ in her. I guess webetter keep out. Maybe Kate Comstock knows what she’s doing. Sure as you live,Elnora has grown bigger on knocks than she would on love.”

“I don’t s’pose there ever was a very fine point to anything but I missed it,”said Wesley, “because I am blunt, rough, and have no book learning to speak of.Since you put it into words I see what you mean, but it’s dinged hard onElnora, just the same. And I don’t keep out. I keep watching closer than ever.I got my slap in the face, but if I don’t miss my guess, Kate Comstock learnedher lesson, same as I did. She learned that I was in earnest, that I would haulher to court if she didn’t loosen up a bit, and she’ll loosen. You see if shedoesn’t. It may come hard, and the hinges creak, but she’ll fix Elnora decentafter this, if Elnora doesn’t prove that she can fix herself. As for me, Ifound out that what I was doing was as much for myself as for Elnora. I wantedher to take those things from us, and love us for giving them. It didn’t work,and but for you, I’d messed the whole thing and stuck like a pig in crossing abridge. But you helped me out; Elnora’s got the clothes, and by morning, maybeI won’t grudge Kate the only laugh she’s had in sixteen years. You been showingme the way quite a spell now, ain’t you, Maggie?”

In her attic Elnora lighted two candles, set them on her little table, stackedthe books, and put away the precious clothes. How lovingly she hung the hat andumbrella, folded the raincoat, and spread the new dress over a chair. Shefingered the ribbons, and tried to smooth the creases from them. She put awaythe hose neatly folded, touched the handkerchiefs, and tried the belt. Then sheslipped into her white nightdress, shook down her hair that it might becomethoroughly dry, set a chair before the table, and reverently opened one of thebooks. A stiff draught swept the attic, for it stretched the length of thecabin, and had a window in each end. Elnora arose and going to the east windowclosed it. She stood for a minute looking at the stars, the sky, and the darkoutline of the straggling trees of the rapidly dismantling Limberlost. In theregion of her case a tiny point of light flashed and disappeared. Elnorastraightened and wondered. Was it wise to leave her precious money there? Thelight flashed once more, wavered a few seconds, and died out. The girl waited.She did not see it again, so she turned to her books.

In the Limberlost the hulking figure of a man sneaked down the trail.

“The Bird Woman was at Freckles’s room this evening,” he muttered. “Wonder whatfor?”

He left the trail, entered the enclosure still distinctly outlined, andapproached the case. The first point of light flashed from the tiny electriclamp on his vest. He took a duplicate key from his pocket, felt for the padlockand opened it. The door swung wide. The light flashed the second time. Swiftlyhis glance swept the interior.

“’Bout a fourth of her moths gone. Elnora must have been with the Bird Womanand given them to her.” Then he stood tense. His keen eyes discovered the rollof bills hastily thrust back in the bottom of the case. He snatched them up,shut off the light, relocked the case by touch, and swiftly went down thetrail. Every few seconds he paused and listened intently. Just as he reachedthe road, a second figure approached him.

“Is it you, Pete?” came the whispered question.

“Yes,” said the first man.

“I was coming down to take a peep, when I saw your flash,” he said. “I heardthe Bird Woman had been at the case to-day. Anything doing?”

“Not a thing,” said Pete. “She just took away about a fourth of the moths.Probably had the Comstock girl getting them for her. Heard they were together.Likely she’ll get the rest to-morrow. Ain’t picking gettin’ bare these days?”

“Well, I should say so,” said the second man, turning back in disgust. “Cominghome, now?”

“No, I am going down this way,” answered Pete, for his eyes caught the gleamfrom the window of the Comstock cabin, and he had a desire to learn whyElnora’s attic was lighted at that hour.

He slouched down the road, occasionally feeling the size of the roll he had nottaken time to count.

The attic was too long, the light too near the other end, and the cabin stoodmuch too far back from the road. He could see nothing although he climbed thefence and walked back opposite the window. He knew Mrs. Comstock was probablyawake, and that she sometimes went to the swamp behind her home at night. Attimes a cry went up from that locality that paralyzed any one near, or sentthem fleeing as if for life. He did not care to cross behind the cabin. Hereturned to the road, passed, and again climbed the fence. Opposite the westwindow he could see Elnora. She sat before a small table reading from a bookbetween two candles. Her hair fell in a bright sheen around her, and with onehand she lightly shook, and tossed it as she studied. The man stood out in thenight and watched.

For a long time a leaf turned at intervals and the hair-drying went on. The mandrew nearer. The picture grew more beautiful as he approached. He could not seeso well as he desired, for the screen was of white mosquito netting, and itangered him. He cautiously crept closer. The elevation shut off his view. Thenhe remembered the large willow tree shading the well and branching across thewindow fit the west end of the cabin. From childhood Elnora had stepped fromthe sill to a limb and slid down the slanting trunk of the tree. He reached itand noiselessly swung himself up. Three steps out on the big limb the manshuddered. He was within a few feet of the girl.

He could see the throb of her breast under its thin covering and smell thefragrance of the tossing hair. He could see the narrow bed with its piecedcalico cover, the whitewashed walls with gay lithographs, and every crevicestuck full of twigs with dangling cocoons. There were pegs for the few clothes,the old chest, the little table, the two chairs, the uneven floor covered withrag rugs and braided corn husk. But nothing was worth a glance except theperfect face and form within reach by one spring through the rotten mosquitobar. He gripped the limb above that on which he stood, licked his lips, andbreathed through his throat to be sure he was making no sound. Elnora closedthe book and laid it aside. She picked up a towel, and turning the gatheredends of her hair rubbed them across it, and dropping the towel on her lap,tossed the hair again. Then she sat in deep thought. By and by words began tocome softly. Near as he was the man could not hear at first. He bent closer andlistened intently.

“—ever could be so happy,” murmured the soft voice. “The dress is sopretty, such shoes, the coat, and everything. I won’t have to be ashamed again,not ever again, for the Limberlost is full of precious moths, and I always cancollect them. The Bird Woman will buy more to-morrow, and the next day, and thenext. When they are all gone, I can spend every minute gathering cocoons, andhunting other things I can sell. Oh, thank God, for my precious, preciousmoney. Why, I didn’t pray in vain after all! I thought when I asked the Lord tohide me, there in that big hall, that He wasn’t doing it, because I wasn’tcovered from sight that instant. But I’m hidden now, I feel that.” Elnoralifted her eyes to the beams above her. “I don’t know much about prayingproperly,” she muttered, “but I do thank you, Lord, for hiding me in your owntime and way.”

Her face was so bright that it shone with a white radiance. Two big tearswelled from her eyes, and rolled down her smiling cheeks. “Oh, I do feel thatyou have hidden me,” she breathed. Then she blew out the lights, and the littlewooden bed creaked under her weight.

Pete Corson dropped from the limb and found his way to the road. He stood stilla long time, then started back to the Limberlost. A tiny point of light flashedin the region of the case. He stopped with an oath.

“Another hound trying to steal from a girl,” he exclaimed. “But it’s likely hethinks if he gets anything it will be from a woman who can afford it, as Idid.”

He went on, but beside the fences, and very cautiously.

“Swamp seems to be alive to-night,” he muttered. “That’s three of us out.”

He entered a deep place at the northwest corner, sat on the ground and taking apencil from his pocket, he tore a leaf from a little notebook, and laboriouslywrote a few lines by the light he carried. Then he went back to the region ofthe case and waited. Before his eyes swept the vision of the slender whitecreature with tossing hair. He smiled, and worshipped it, until a distantrooster faintly announced dawn.

Then he unlocked the case again, and replaced the money, laid the note upon it,and went back to concealment, where he remained until Elnora came down thetrail in the morning, appearing very lovely in her new dress and hat.

CHAPTER V

WHEREIN ELNORA RECEIVES A WARNING, AND BILLY APPEARS ON THE SCENE

It would be difficult to describe how happy Elnora was that morning as shehurried through her work, bathed and put on the neat, dainty gingham dress, andthe tan shoes. She had a struggle with her hair. It crinkled, billowed, andshone, and she could not avoid seeing the becoming frame it made around herface. But in deference to her mother’s feelings the girl set her teeth, andbound her hair closely to her head with a shoe-string. “Not to be changed atthe case,” she told herself.

That her mother was watching she was unaware. Just as she picked up thebeautiful brown ribbon Mrs. Comstock spoke.

“You had better let me tie that. You can’t reach behind yourself and do itright.”

Elnora gave a little gasp. Her mother never before had proposed to do anythingfor the girl that by any possibility she could do herself. Her heart quaked atthe thought of how her mother would arrange that bow, but Elnora dared notrefuse. The offer was too precious. It might never be made again.

“Oh thank you!” said the girl, and sitting down she held out the ribbon.

Her mother stood back and looked at her critically.

“You haven’t got that like Mag Sinton had it last night,” she announced. “Youlittle idiot! You’ve tried to plaster it down to suit me, and you missed it. Iliked it away better as Mag fixed it, after I saw it. You didn’t look sopeeled.”

“Oh mother, mother!” laughed Elnora, with a half sob in her voice.

“Hold still, will you?” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You’ll be late, and I haven’tpacked your dinner yet.”

She untied the string and shook out the hair. It rose with electricity andclung to her fingers and hands. Mrs. Comstock jumped back as if bitten. Sheknew that touch. Her face grew white, and her eyes angry.

“Tie it yourself,” she said shortly, “and then I’ll put on the ribbon. But rollit back loose like Mag did. It looked so pretty that way.”

Almost fainting Elnora stood before the glass, divided off the front parts ofher hair, and rolled them as Mrs. Sinton had done; tied it at the nape of herneck, then sat while her mother arranged the ribbon.

“If I pull it down till it comes tight in these creases where she had it, itwill be just right, won’t it?” queried Mrs. Comstock, and the amazed Elnorastammered,

“Yes.”

When she looked in the glass the bow was perfectly tied, and how the gold toneof the brown did match the lustre of the shining hair! “That’s pretty,”commented Mrs. Comstock’s soul, but her stiff lips had said all that could beforced from them for once. Just then Wesley Sinton came to the door.

“Good morning,” he cried heartily. “Elnora, you look a picture! My, but you’resweet! If any of the city boys get sassy you tell your Uncle Wesley, and he’llhorsewhip them. Here’s your Christmas present from me.” He handed Elnora theleather lunch box, with her name carved across the strap in artistic lettering.

“Oh Uncle Wesley!” was all Elnora could say.

“Your Aunt Maggie filled it for me for a starter,” he said. “Now, if you areready, I’m going to drive past your way and you can ride almost to Onabashawith me, and save the new shoes that much.”

Elnora was staring at the box. “Oh I hope it isn’t impolite to open it beforeyou,” she said. “I just feel as if I must see inside.”

“Don’t you stand on formality with the neighbours,” laughed Sinton. “Look inyour box if you want to!”

Elnora slipped the strap and turned back the lid.

This disclosed the knife, fork, napkin, and spoon, the milk flask, and theinterior packed with dainty sandwiches wrapped in tissue paper, and the littlecompartments for meat, salad, and the custard cup.

“Oh mother!” cried Elnora. “Oh mother, isn’t it fine? What made you think ofit, Uncle Wesley? How will I ever thank you? No one will have a finer lunch boxthan I. Oh I do thank you! That’s the nicest gift I ever had. How I loveChristmas in September!”

“It’s a mighty handy thing,” assented Mrs. Comstock, taking in every detailwith sharp eyes. “I guess you are glad now you went and helped Mag and Wesleywhen you could, Elnora?”

“Deedy, yes,” laughed Elnora, “and I’m going again first time they have a bigday if I stay from school to do it.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” said the delighted Sinton. “Come now, if you’regoing!”

“If I ride, can you spare me time to run into the swamp to my box a minute?”asked Elnora.

The light she had seen the previous night troubled her.

“Sure,” said Wesley largely. So they drove away and left a white-faced womanwatching them from the door, her heart a little sorer than usual.

“I’d give a pretty to hear what he’ll say to her!” she commented bitterly.“Always sticking in, always doing things I can’t ever afford. Where on earthdid he get that thing and what did it cost?”

Then she entered the cabin and began the day’s work, but mingled with thebrooding bitterness of her soul was the vision of a sweet young face, glad witha gladness never before seen on it, and over and over she repeated: “I wonderwhat he’ll say to her!”

What he said was that she looked as fresh and sweet as a posy, and to becareful not to step in the mud or scratch her shoes when she went to the case.

Elnora found her key and opened the door. Not where she had placed it, butconspicuously in front lay her little heap of bills, and a crude scrawl ofwriting beside it. Elnora picked up the note in astonishment.

DERE ELNORY,

the lord amighty is hiding you all right done you ever dout it this money ofyourn was took for some time las nite but it is returned with intres for godsake done ever come to the swamp at nite or late evnin or mornin or far in anytime sompin worse an you know could git you

A FREND.

Elnora began to tremble. She hastily glanced around. The damp earth before thecase had been trodden by large, roughly shod feet. She caught up the money andthe note, thrust them into her guimpe, locked the case, and ran to the road.

She was so breathless and her face so white Sinton noticed it.

“What in the world’s the matter, Elnora?” he asked.

“I am half afraid!” she panted.

“Tut, tut, child!” said Wesley Sinton. “Nothing in the world to be afraid of.What happened?”

“Uncle Wesley,” said Elnora, “I had more money than I brought home last night,and I put it in my case. Some one has been there. The ground is all trampled,and they left this note.”

“And took your money, I’ll wager,” said Sinton angrily.

“No,” answered Elnora. “Read the note, and oh Uncle Wesley, tell me what itmeans!”

Sinton’s face was a study. “I don’t know what it means,” he said. “Only onething is clear. It means some beast who doesn’t really want to harm you has gothis eye on you, and he is telling you plain as he can, not to give him achance. You got to keep along the roads, in the open, and not let the biggestmoth that ever flew toll you out of hearing of us, or your mother. It meansthat, plain and distinct.”

“Just when I can sell them! Just when everything is so lovely on account ofthem! I can’t! I can’t stay away from the swamp. The Limberlost is going to buythe books, the clothes, pay the tuition, and even start a college fund. I justcan’t!”

“You’ve got to,” said Sinton. “This is plain enough. You go far in the swamp atyour own risk, even in daytime.”

“Uncle Wesley,” said the girl, “last night before I went to bed, I was so happyI tried to pray, and I thanked God for hiding me ‘under the shadow of Hiswing.’ But how in the world could any one know it?”

Wesley Sinton’s heart leaped in his breast. His face was whiter than the girl’snow.

“Were you praying out loud, honey?” he almost whispered.

“I might have said words,” answered Elnora. “I know I do sometimes. I’ve neverhad any one to talk with, and I’ve played with and talked to myself all mylife. You’ve caught me at it often, but it always makes mother angry when shedoes. She says it’s silly. I forget and do it, when I’m alone. But UncleWesley, if I said anything last night, you know it was the merest whisper,because I’d have been so afraid of waking mother. Don’t you see? I sat up late,and studied two lessons.”

Sinton was steadying himself “I’ll stop and examine the case as I come back,”he said. “Maybe I can find some clue. That other—that was justaccidental. It’s a common expression. All the preachers use it. If I tried topray, that would be the very first thing I’d say.”

The colour returned to Elnora’s face.

“Did you tell your mother about this money, Elnora?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t,” said Elnora. “It’s dreadful not to, but I was afraid. You seethey are clearing the swamp so fast. Every year it grows more difficult to findthings, and Indian stuff becomes scarcer. I want to graduate, and that’s fouryears unless I can double on the course. That means twenty dollars tuition eachyear, and new books, and clothes. There won’t ever be so much at one timeagain, that I know. I just got to hang to my money. I was afraid to tell her,for fear she would want it for taxes, and she really must sell a tree or somecattle for that, mustn’t she, Uncle Wesley?”

“On your life, she must!” said Wesley. “You put your little wad in the bank allsafe, and never mention it to a living soul. It doesn’t seem right, but yourcase is peculiar. Every word you say is a true word. Each year you will findless in the swamp, and things everywhere will be scarcer. If you ever get a fewdollars ahead, that can start your college fund. You know you are going tocollege, Elnora!”

“Of course I am,” said Elnora. “I settled that as soon as I knew what a collegewas. I will put all my money in the bank, except what I owe you. I’ll pay thatnow.”

“If your arrows are heavy,” said Wesley, “I’ll drive on to Onabasha with you.”

“But they are not. Half of them were nicked, and this little box held all thegood ones. It’s so surprising how many are spoiled when you wash them.”

“What does he pay?”

“Ten cents for any common perfect one, fifty for revolvers, a dollar forobsidian, and whatever is right for enormous big ones.”

“Well, that sounds fair,” said Sinton. “You can come down Saturday and wash thestuff at our house, and I’ll take it in when we go marketing in the afternoon.”

Elnora jumped from the carriage. She soon found that with her books, her lunchbox, and the points she had a heavy load. She had almost reached the bridgecrossing the culvert when she heard distressed screams of a child. Across anorchard of the suburbs came a small boy, after him a big dog, urged by a man inthe background. Elnora’s heart was with the small fleeing figure in any eventwhatever. She dropped her load on the bridge, and with practised hand flung astone at the dog. The beast curled double with a howl. The boy reached thefence, and Elnora was there to help him over. As he touched the top she swunghim to the ground, but he clung to her, clasping her tightly, sobbing withfear. Elnora helped him to the bridge, and sat with him in her arms. For a timehis replies to her questions were indistinct, but at last he became quieter andshe could understand.

He was a mite of a boy, nothing but skin-covered bones, his burned, freckledface in a mortar of tears and dust, his clothing unspeakably dirty, one greattoe in a festering mass from a broken nail, and sores all over the visibleportions of the small body.

“You won’t let the mean old thing make his dog get me!” he wailed.

“Indeed no,” said Elnora, holding him closely.

“You wouldn’t set a dog on a boy for just taking a few old apples when you fed’em to pigs with a shovel every day, would you?”

“No, I would not,” said Elnora hotly.

“You’d give a boy all the apples he wanted, if he hadn’t any breakfast, and wasso hungry he was all twisty inside, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would,” said Elnora.

“If you had anything to eat you would give me something right now, wouldn’tyou?”

“Yes,” said Elnora. “There’s nothing but just stones in the package. But mydinner is in that case. I’ll gladly divide.”

She opened the box. The famished child gave a little cry and reached bothhands. Elnora caught them back.

“Did you have any supper?”

“No.”

“Any dinner yesterday?”

“An apple and some grapes I stole.”

“Whose boy are you?”

“Old Tom Billings’s.”

“Why doesn’t your father get you something to eat?”

“He does most days, but he’s drunk now.”

“Hush, you must not!” said Elnora. “He’s your father!”

“He’s spent all the money to get drunk, too,” said the boy, “and Jimmy andBelle are both crying for breakfast. I’d a got out all right with an apple formyself, but I tried to get some for them and the dog got too close. Say, youcan throw, can’t you?”

“Yes,” admitted Elnora. She poured half the milk into the cup. “Drink this,”she said, holding it to him.

The boy gulped the milk and swore joyously, gripping the cup with shakingfingers.

“Hush!” cried Elnora. “That’s dreadful!”

“What’s dreadful?”

“To say such awful words.”

“Huh! pa says worser ’an that every breath he draws.”

Elnora saw that the child was older than she had thought. He might have beenforty judging by his hard, unchildish expression.

“Do you want to be like your father?”

“No, I want to be like you. Couldn’t a angel be prettier ’an you. Can I havemore milk?”

Elnora emptied the flask. The boy drained the cup. He drew a breath ofsatisfaction as he gazed into her face.

“You wouldn’t go off and leave your little boy, would you?” he asked.

“Did some one go away and leave you?”

“Yes, my mother went off and left me, and left Jimmy and Belle, too,” said theboy. “You wouldn’t leave your little boy, would you?”

“No.”

The boy looked eagerly at the box. Elnora lifted a sandwich and uncovered thefried chicken. The boy gasped with delight.

“Say, I could eat the stuff in the glass and the other box and carry the breadand the chicken to Jimmy and Belle,” he offered.

Elnora silently uncovered the custard with preserved cherries on top and handedit and the spoon to the child. Never did food disappear faster. The salad wentnext, and a sandwich and half a chicken breast followed.

“I better leave the rest for Jimmy and Belle,” he said, “they’re ’ist fightin’hungry.”

Elnora gave him the remainder of the carefully prepared lunch. The boy clutchedit and ran with a sidewise hop like a wild thing. She covered the dishes andcup, polished the spoon, replaced it, and closed the case. She caught herbreath in a tremulous laugh.

“If Aunt Margaret knew that, she’d never forgive me,” she said. “It seems as ifsecrecy is literally forced upon me, and I hate it. What shall I do for lunch?I’ll have to sell my arrows and keep enough money for a restaurant sandwich.”

So she walked hurriedly into town, sold her points at a good price, depositedher funds, and went away with a neat little bank book and the note from theLimberlost carefully folded inside. Elnora passed down the hall that morning,and no one paid the slightest attention to her. The truth was she looked solike every one else that she was perfectly inconspicuous. But in the coat roomthere were members of her class. Surely no one intended it, but the whisper wastoo loud.

“Look at the girl from the Limberlost in the clothes that woman gave her!”

Elnora turned on them. “I beg your pardon,” she said unsteadily, “I couldn’thelp hearing that! No one gave me these clothes. I paid for them myself.”

Some one muttered, “Pardon me,” but incredulous faces greeted her.

Elnora felt driven. “Aunt Margaret selected them, and she meant to give them tome,” she explained, “but I wouldn’t take them. I paid for them myself.” Therewas silence.

“Don’t you believe me?” panted Elnora.

“Really, it is none of our affair,” said another girl. “Come on, let’s go.”

Elnora stepped before the girl who had spoken. “You have made this youraffair,” she said, “because you told a thing which was not true. No one gave mewhat I am wearing. I paid for my clothes myself with money I earned sellingmoths to the Bird Woman. I just came from the bank where I deposited what I didnot use. Here is my credit.” Elnora drew out and offered the little red book.“Surely you will believe that,” she said.

“Why of course,” said the girl who first had spoken. “We met such a lovelywoman in Brownlee’s store, and she said she wanted our help to buy some thingsfor a girl, and that’s how we came to know.”

“Dear Aunt Margaret,” said Elnora, “it was like her to ask you. Isn’t shesplendid?”

“She is indeed,” chorused the girls. Elnora set down her lunch box and books,unpinned her hat, hanging it beside the others, and taking up the books shereached to set the box in its place and dropped it. With a little cry shesnatched at it and caught the strap on top. That pulled from the fastening, thecover unrolled, the box fell away as far as it could, two porcelain lidsrattled on the floor, and the one sandwich rolled like a cartwheel across theroom. Elnora lifted a ghastly face. For once no one laughed. She stood aninstant staring.

“It seems to be my luck to be crucified at every point of the compass,” shesaid at last. “First two days you thought I was a pauper, now you will thinkI’m a fraud. All of you will believe I bought an expensive box, and then wastoo poor to put anything but a restaurant sandwich in it. You must stop till Iprove to you that I’m not.”

Elnora gathered up the lids, and kicked the sandwich into a corner.

“I had milk in that bottle, see! And custard in the cup. There was salad in thelittle box, fried chicken in the large one, and nut sandwiches in the tray. Youcan see the crumbs of all of them. A man set a dog on a child who was sostarved he was stealing apples. I talked with him, and I thought I could bearhunger better, he was such a little boy, so I gave him my lunch, and got thesandwich at the restaurant.”

Elnora held out the box. The girls were laughing by that time. “You goose,”said one, “why didn’t you give him the money, and save your lunch?”

“He was such a little fellow, and he really was hungry,” said Elnora. “I oftengo without anything to eat at noon in the fields and woods, and never think ofit.”

She closed the box and set it beside the lunches of other country pupils. Whileher back was turned, into the room came the girl of her encounter on the firstday, walked to the rack, and with an exclamation of approval took down Elnora’shat.

“Just the thing I have been wanting!” she said. “I never saw such beautifulquills in all my life. They match my new broadcloth to perfection. I’ve got tohave that kind of quills for my hat. I never saw the like! Whose is it, andwhere did it come from?”

No one said a word, for Elnora’s question, the reply, and her answer, had beenrepeated. Every one knew that the Limberlost girl had come out ahead and SadieReed had not been amiable, when the little flourish had been added to Elnora’sname in the algebra class. Elnora’s swift glance was pathetic, but no onehelped her. Sadie Reed glanced from the hat to the faces around her andwondered.

“Why, this is the Freshman section, whose hat is it?” she asked again, thistime impatiently.

“That’s the tassel of the cornstock,” said Elnora with a forced laugh.

The response was genuine. Every one shouted. Sadie Reed blushed, but shelaughed also.

“Well, it’s beautiful,” she said, “especially the quills. They are exactly whatI want. I know I don’t deserve any kindness from you, but I do wish you wouldtell me at whose store you found those quills.”

“Gladly!” said Elnora. “You can’t buy quills like those at a store. They arefrom a living bird. Phoebe Simms gathers them in her orchard as her peacocksshed them. They are wing quills from the males.”

Then there was perfect silence. How was Elnora to know that not a girl therewould have told that?

“I haven’t a doubt but I can get you some,” she offered. “She gave AuntMargaret a large bunch, and those are part of them. I am quite sure she hasmore, and would spare some.”

Sadie Reed laughed shortly. “You needn’t trouble,” she said, “I was fooled. Ithought they were expensive quills. I wanted them for a twenty-dollar velvettoque to match my new suit. If they are gathered from the ground, really, Icouldn’t use them.”

“Only in spots!” said Elnora. “They don’t just cover the earth. Phoebe Simms’speacocks are the only ones within miles of Onabasha, and they moult but once ayear. If your hat cost only twenty dollars, it’s scarcely good enough for thosequills. You see, the Almighty made and coloured those Himself; and He puts thesame kind on Phoebe Simms’s peacocks that He put on the head of the family inthe forests of Ceylon, away back in the beginning. Any old manufactured quillfrom New York or Chicago will do for your little twenty-dollar hat. You shouldhave something infinitely better than that to be worthy of quills that are madeby the Creator.”

How those girls did laugh! One of them walked with Elnora to the auditorium,sat beside her during exercises, and tried to talk whenever she dared, to keepElnora from seeing the curious and admiring looks bent upon her.

For the brown-eyed boy whistled, and there was pantomime of all sorts going onbehind Elnora’s back that day. Happy with her books, no one knew how much shesaw, and from her absorption in her studies it was evident she cared too littleto notice.

After school she went again to the home of the Bird Woman, and together theyvisited the swamp and carried away more specimens. This time Elnora asked theBird Woman to keep the money until noon of the next day, when she would callfor it and have it added to her bank account. She slowly walked home, for thevisit to the swamp had brought back full force the experience of the morning.Again and again she examined the crude little note, for she did not know whatit meant, yet it bred vague fear. The only thing of which Elnora knew herselfafraid was her mother; when with wild eyes and ears deaf to childish pleading,she sometimes lost control of herself in the night and visited the pool whereher husband had sunk before her, calling his name in unearthly tones andbegging of the swamp to give back its dead.

CHAPTER VI

WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK INDULGES IN “FRILLS,” AND BILLY REAPPEARS

It was Wesley Sinton who really wrestled with Elnora’s problem while he droveabout his business. He was not forced to ask himself what it meant; he knew.The old Corson gang was still holding together. Elder members who had escapedthe law had been joined by a younger brother of Jack’s, and they met in thethickest of the few remaining fast places of the swamp to drink, gamble, andloaf. Then suddenly, there would be a robbery in some country house where afarmer that day had sold his wheat or corn and not paid a visit to the bank; orin some neighbouring village.

The home of Mrs. Comstock and Elnora adjoined the swamp. Sinton’s land laynext, and not another residence or man easy to reach in case of trouble.Whoever wrote that note had some human kindness in his breast, but the factstood revealed that he feared his strength if Elnora were delivered into hishands. Where had he been the previous night when he heard that prayer? Was thatthe first time he had been in such proximity? Sinton drove fast, for he wishedto reach the swamp before Elnora and the Bird Woman would go there.

At almost four he came to the case, and dropping on his knees studied theground, every sense alert. He found two or three little heel prints. Those weremade by Elnora or the Bird Woman. What Sinton wanted to learn was whether allthe remainder were the footprints of one man. It was easily seen, they werenot. There were deep, even tracks made by fairly new shoes, and others where awell-worn heel cut deeper on the inside of the print than at the outer edge.Undoubtedly some of Corson’s old gang were watching the case, and the visits ofthe women to it. There was no danger that any one would attack the Bird Woman.She never went to the swamp at night, and on her trips in the daytime, everyone knew that she carried a revolver, understood how to use it, and pursued herwork in a fearless manner.

Elnora, prowling around the swamp and lured into the interior by the flight ofmoths and butterflies; Elnora, without father, money, or friends save himself,to defend her—Elnora was a different proposition. For this to happen justwhen the Limberlost was bringing the very desire of her heart to the girl, itwas too bad.

Sinton was afraid for her, yet he did not want to add the burden of fear toKatharine Comstock’s trouble, or to disturb the joy of Elnora in her work. Hestopped at the cabin and slowly went up the walk. Mrs. Comstock was sitting onthe front steps with some sewing. The work seemed to Sinton as if she might beengaged in putting a tuck in a petticoat. He thought of how Margaret hadshortened Elnora’s dress to the accepted length for girls of her age, and madea mental note of Mrs. Comstock’s occupation.

She dropped her work on her lap, laid her hands on it and looked into his facewith a sneer.

“You didn’t let any grass grow under your feet,” she said.

Sinton saw her white, drawn face and comprehended.

“I went to pay a debt and see about this opening of the ditch, Kate.”

“You said you were going to prosecute me.”

“Good gracious, Kate!” cried Sinton. “Is that what you have been thinking allday? I told you before I left yesterday that I would not need do that. And Iwon’t! We can’t afford to quarrel over Elnora. She’s all we’ve got. Now thatshe has proved that if you don’t do just what I think you ought by way ofclothes and schooling, she can take care of herself, I put that out of my head.What I came to see you about is a kind of scare I’ve had to-day. I want to askyou if you ever see anything about the swamp that makes you think the oldCorson gang is still at work?”

“Can’t say that I do,” said Mrs. Comstock. “There’s kind of dancing lightsthere sometimes, but I supposed it was just people passing along the road withlanterns. Folks hereabout are none too fond of the swamp. I hate it like death.I’ve never stayed here a night in my life without Robert’s revolver, clean andloaded, under my pillow, and the shotgun, same condition, by the bed. I can’tsay that I’m afraid here at home. I’m not. I can take care of myself. But noneof the swamp for me!”

“Well, I’m glad you are not afraid, Kate, because I must tell you something.Elnora stopped at the case this morning, and somebody had been into it in thenight.”

“Broke the lock?”

“No. Used a duplicate key. To-day I heard there was a man here last night. Iwant to nose around a little.”

Sinton went to the east end of the cabin and looked up at the window. There wasno way any one could have reached it without a ladder, for the logs were hewedand mortar filled the cracks even. Then he went to the west end, the willowfaced him as he turned the corner. He examined the trunk carefully. There wasno mistake about small particles of black swamp muck adhering to the sides ofthe tree. He reached the low branches and climbed the willow. There was earthon the large limb crossing Elnora’s window. He stood on it, holding the branchas had been done the night before, and looked into the room. He could see verylittle, but he knew that if it had been dark outside and sufficiently light forElnora to study inside he could have seen vividly. He brought his face close tothe netting, and he could see the bed with its head to the east, at its footthe table with the candles and the chair before it, and then he knew where theman had been who had heard Elnora’s prayer.

Mrs. Comstock had followed around the corner and stood watching him. “Do youthink some slinking hulk was up there peekin’ in at Elnora?” she demandedindignantly.

“There is muck on the trunk, and plenty on the limb,” said Sinton. “Hadn’t youbetter get a saw and let me take this branch off?”

“No, I hadn’t,” said Mrs. Comstock. “First place, Elnora’s climbed from thatwindow on that limb all her life, and it’s hers. Second place, no one getsahead of me after I’ve had warning. Any crow that perches on that roost againwill get its feathers somewhat scattered. Look along the fence, there, and seeif you can find where he came in.”

The place was easy to find as was a trail leading for some distance west of thecabin.

“You just go home, and don’t fret yourself,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ll takecare of this. If you should hear the dinner bell at any time in the night youcome down. But I wouldn’t say anything to Elnora. She better keep her mind onher studies, if she’s going to school.”

When the work was finished that night Elnora took her books and went to herroom to prepare some lessons, but every few minutes she looked toward the swampto see if there were lights near the case. Mrs. Comstock raked together thecoals in the cooking stove, got out the lunch box, and sitting down she studiedit grimly. At last she arose.

“Wonder how it would do to show Mag Sinton a frill or two,” she murmured.

She went to her room, knelt before a big black-walnut chest and hunted throughits contents until she found an old-fashioned cook book. She tended the fire asshe read and presently was in action. She first sawed an end from a fragrant,juicy, sugar-cured ham and put it to cook. Then she set a couple of eggsboiling, and after long hesitation began creaming butter and sugar in a crock.An hour later the odour of the ham, mingled with some of the richest spices of“happy Araby,” in a combination that could mean nothing save spice cake, creptup to Elnora so strongly that she lifted her head and sniffed amazedly. Shewould have given all her precious money to have gone down and thrown her armsaround her mother’s neck, but she did not dare move.

Mrs. Comstock was up early, and without a word handed Elnora the case as sheleft the next morning.

“Thank you, mother,” said Elnora, and went on her way.

She walked down the road looking straight ahead until she came to the corner,where she usually entered the swamp. She paused, glanced that way and smiled.Then she turned and looked back. There was no one coming in any direction. Shefollowed the road until well around the corner, then she stopped and sat on agrassy spot, laid her books beside her and opened the lunch box. Last night’sodours had in a measure prepared her for what she would see, but not quite. Shescarcely could believe her senses. Half the bread compartment was filled withdainty sandwiches of bread and butter sprinkled with the yolk of egg and theremainder with three large slices of the most fragrant spice cake imaginable.The meat dish contained shaved cold ham, of which she knew the quality, thesalad was tomatoes and celery, and the cup held preserved pear, clear as amber.There was milk in the bottle, two tissue-wrapped cucumber pickles in thefolding drinking-cup, and a fresh napkin in the ring. No lunch was everdaintier or more palatable; of that Elnora was perfectly sure. And her motherhad prepared it for her! “She does love me!” cried the happy girl. “Sure asyou’re born she loves me; only she hasn’t found it out yet!”

She touched the papers daintily, and smiled at the box as if it were a livingthing. As she began closing it a breath of air swept by, lifting the coveringof the cake. It was like an invitation, and breakfast was several hours away.Elnora picked up a piece and ate it. That cake tasted even better than itlooked. Then she tried a sandwich. How did her mother come to think of makingthem that way. They never had any at home. She slipped out the fork, sampledthe salad, and one-quarter of pear. Then she closed the box and started downthe road nibbling one of the pickles and trying to decide exactly how happy shewas, but she could find no standard high enough for a measure.

She was to go to the Bird Woman’s after school for the last load from the case.Saturday she would take the arrow points and specimens to the bank. That wouldexhaust her present supplies and give her enough money ahead to pay for books,tuition, and clothes for at least two years. She would work early and lategathering nuts. In October she would sell all the ferns she could find. Shemust collect specimens of all tree leaves before they fell, gather nests andcocoons later, and keep her eyes wide open for anything the grades could use.She would see the superintendent that night about selling specimens to the wardbuildings. She must be ahead of any one else if she wanted to furnish thesethings. So she approached the bridge.

That it was occupied could be seen from a distance. As she came up she foundthe small boy of yesterday awaiting her with a confident smile.

“We brought you something!” he announced without greeting. “This is Jimmy andBelle—and we brought you a present.”

He offered a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

“Why, how lovely of you!” said Elnora. “I supposed you had forgotten me whenyou ran away so fast yesterday.”

“Naw, I didn’t forget you,” said the boy. “I wouldn’t forget you, not ever!Why, I was ist a-hurrying to take them things to Jimmy and Belle. My they wasglad!”

Elnora glanced at the children. They sat on the edge of the bridge, obviouslyclad in a garment each, very dirty and unkept, a little boy and a girl of aboutseven and nine. Elnora’s heart began to ache.

“Say,” said the boy. “Ain’t you going to look what we have gave you?”

“I thought it wasn’t polite to look before people,” answered Elnora. “Ofcourse, I will, if you would like to have me.”

Elnora opened the package. She had been presented with a quarter of a staleloaf of baker’s bread, and a big piece of ancient bologna.

“But don’t you want this yourselves?” she asked in surprise.

“Gosh, no! I mean ist no,” said the boy. “We always have it. We got stacks thismorning. Pa’s come out of it now, and he’s so sorry he got more ’an ever we caneat. Have you had any before?”

“No,” said Elnora, “I never did!”

The boy’s eyes brightened and the girl moved restlessly.

“We thought maybe you hadn’t,” said the boy. “First you ever have, you like itreal well; but when you don’t have anything else for a long time, years an’years, you git so tired.” He hitched at the string which held his trousers andwatched Elnora speculatively.

“I don’t s’pose you’d trade what you got in that box for ist old bread andbologna now, would you? Mebby you’d like it! And I know, I ist know, what yougot would taste like heaven to Jimmy and Belle. They never had nothing likethat! Not even Belle, and she’s most ten! No, sir-ee, they never tasted thingslike you got!”

It was in Elnora’s heart to be thankful for even a taste in time, as she knelton the bridge, opened the box and divided her lunch into three equal parts, thesmaller boy getting most of the milk. Then she told them it was school time andshe must go.

“Why don’t you put your bread and bologna in the nice box?” asked the boy.

“Of course,” said Elnora. “I didn’t think.”

When the box was arranged to the children’s satisfaction all of themaccompanied Elnora to the corner where she turned toward the high school.

“Billy,” said Elnora, “I would like you much better if you were cleaner.Surely, you have water! Can’t you children get some soap and wash yourselves?Gentlemen are never dirty. You want to be a gentleman, don’t you?”

“Is being clean all you have to do to be a gentleman?”

“No,” said Elnora. “You must not say bad words, and you must be kind and politeto your sister.”

“Must Belle be kind and polite to me, else she ain’t a lady?”

“Yes.”

“Then Belle’s no lady!” said Billy succinctly.

Elnora could say nothing more just then, and she bade them good-bye and startedthem home.

“The poor little souls!” she mused. “I think the Almighty put them in my way toshow me real trouble. I won’t be likely to spend much time pitying myself whileI can see them.” She glanced at the lunchbox. “What on earth do I carry thisfor? I never had anything that was so strictly ornamental! One sure thing! Ican’t take this stuff to the high school. You never seem to know exactly whatis going to happen to you while you are there.”

As if to provide a way out of her difficulty a big dog arose from a lawn, andcame toward the gate wagging his tail. “If those children ate the stuff, itcan’t possibly kill him!” thought Elnora, so she offered the bologna. The dogaccepted it graciously, and being a beast of pedigree he trotted around to aside porch and laid the bologna before his mistress. The woman snatched it,screaming: “Come, quick! Some one is trying to poison Pedro!” Her daughter camerunning from the house. “Go see who is on the street. Hurry!” cried the excitedmother.

Ellen Brownlee ran and looked. Elnora was half a block away, and no one nearer.Ellen called loudly, and Elnora stopped. Ellen came running toward her.

“Did you see any one give our dog something?” she cried as she approached.

Elnora saw no escape.

“I gave it a piece of bologna myself,” she said. “It was fit to eat. Itwouldn’t hurt the dog.”

Ellen stood and looked at her. “Of course, I didn’t know it was your dog,”explained Elnora. “I had something I wanted to throw to some dog, and that onelooked big enough to manage it.”

Ellen had arrived at her conclusions. “Pass over that lunch box,” she demanded.

“I will not!” said Elnora.

“Then I will have you arrested for trying to poison our dog,” laughed the girlas she took the box.

“One chunk of stale bread, one half mile of antique bologna contributed for dogfeed; the remains of cake, salad and preserves in an otherwise empty lunch box.One ham sandwich yesterday. I think it’s lovely you have the box. Who ate yourlunch to-day?”

“Same,” confessed Elnora, “but there were three of them this time.”

“Wait, until I run back and tell mother about the dog, and get my books.”

Elnora waited. That morning she walked down the hall and into the auditoriumbeside one of the very nicest girls in Onabasha, and it was the fourth day. Butthe surprise came at noon when Ellen insisted upon Elnora lunching at theBrownlee home, and convulsed her parents and family, and overwhelmed Elnorawith a greatly magnified, but moderately accurate history of her lunch box.

“Gee! but it’s a box, daddy!” cried the laughing girl. “It’s carved leather andfastens with a strap that has her name on it. Inside are trays for things allcomplete, and it bears evidence of having enclosed delicious food, but Elnoranever gets any. She’s carried it two days now, and both times it has been emptybefore she reached school. Isn’t that killing?”

“It is, Ellen, in more ways than one. No girl is going to eat breakfast at sixo’clock, walk three miles, and do good work without her lunch. You can’t tellme anything about that box. I sold it last Monday night to Wesley Sinton, oneof my good country customers. He told me it was a present for a girl who wasworthy of it, and I see he was right.”

“He’s so good to me,” said Elnora. “Sometimes I look at him and wonder if aneighbour can be so kind to one, what a real father would be like. I envy agirl with a father unspeakably.”

“You have cause,” said Ellen Brownlee. “A father is the very dearest person inthe whole round world, except a mother, who is just a dear.” The girl, startingto pay tribute to her father, saw that she must include her mother, and saidthe thing before she remembered what Mrs. Sinton had told the girls in thestore. She stopped in dismay. Elnora’s face paled a trifle, but she smiledbravely.

“Then I’m fortunate in having a mother,” she said.

Mr. Brownlee lingered at the table after the girls had excused themselves andreturned to school.

“There’s a girl Ellen can’t see too much of, in my opinion,” he said. “She isevery inch a lady, and not a foolish notion or action about her. I can’tunderstand just what combination of circumstances produced her in this day.”

“It has been an unusual case of repression, for one thing. She waits on herelders and thinks before she speaks,” said Mrs. Brownlee.

“She’s mighty pretty. She looks so sound and wholesome, and she’s neatlydressed.”

“Ellen says she was a fright the first two days. Long brown calico dress almosttouching the floor, and big, lumbering shoes. Those Sinton people bought herclothes. Ellen was in the store, and the woman stopped her crowd and asked themabout their dresses. She said the girl was not poor, but her mother was selfishand didn’t care for her. But Elnora showed a bank book the next day, anddeclared that she paid for the things herself, so the Sinton people must justhave selected them. There’s something peculiar about it, but nothing wrong I amsure. I’ll encourage Ellen to ask her again.”

“I should say so, especially if she is going to keep on giving away her lunch.”

“She lunched with the Bird Woman one day this week.”

“She did!”

“Yes, she lives out by the Limberlost. You know the Bird Woman works there agreat deal, and probably knows her that way. I think the girl gathers specimensfor her. Ellen says she knows more than the teachers about any nature questionthat comes up, and she is going to lead all of them in mathematics, and makethem work in any branch.”

When Elnora entered the coat room after having had luncheon with Ellen Brownleethere was such a difference in the atmosphere that she could feel it.

“I am almost sorry I have these clothes,” she said to Ellen.

“In the name of sense, why?” cried the astonished girl.

“Every one is so nice to me in them, it sets me to wondering if in time I couldhave made them be equally friendly in the others.”

Ellen looked at her introspectively. “I believe you could,” she announced atlast. “But it would have taken time and heartache, and your mind would havebeen less free to work on your studies. No one is happy without friends, and Ijust simply can’t study when I am unhappy.”

That night the Bird Woman made the last trip to the swamp. Every specimen shepossibly could use had been purchased at a fair price, and three additions hadbeen made to the bank book, carrying the total a little past two hundreddollars. There remained the Indian relics to sell on Saturday, and Elnora hadsecured the order to furnish material for nature work for the grades. Lifesuddenly grew very full. There was the most excitingly interesting work forevery hour, and that work was to pay high school expenses and start the collegefund. There was one little rift in her joy. All of it would have been so muchbetter if she could have told her mother, and given the money into her keeping;but the struggle to get a start had been so terrible, Elnora was afraid to takethe risk. When she reached home, she only told her mother that the last of thethings had been sold that evening.

“I think,” said Mrs. Comstock, “that we will ask Wesley to move that box overhere back of the garden for you. There you are apt to get tolled farther intothe swamp than you intend to go, and you might mire or something. There oughtto be just the same things in our woods, and along our swampy places, as thereare in the Limberlost. Can’t you hunt your stuff here?”

“I can try,” said Elnora. “I don’t know what I can find until I do. Our woodsare undisturbed, and there is a possibility they might be even better huntingthan the swamp. But I wouldn’t have Freckles’s case moved for the world. Hemight come back some day, and not like it. I’ve tried to keep his room the bestI could, and taking out the box would make a big hole in one side of it. Storeboxes don’t cost much. I will have Uncle Wesley buy me one, and set it upwherever hunting looks the best, early in the spring. I would feel safer athome.”

“Shall we do the work or have supper first?”

“Let’s do the work,” said Elnora. “I can’t say that I’m hungry now. Doesn’tseem as if I ever could be hungry again with such a lunch. I am quite sure noone carried more delicious things to eat than I.”

Mrs. Comstock was pleased. “I put in a pretty good hunk of cake. Did you divideit with any one?”

“Why, yes, I did,” admitted Elnora.

“Who?”

This was becoming uncomfortable. “I ate the biggest piece myself,” said Elnora,“and gave the rest to a couple of boys named Jimmy and Billy and a girl namedBelle. They said it was the very best cake they ever tasted in all theirlives.”

Mrs. Comstock sat straight. “I used to be a master hand at spice cake,” sheboasted. “But I’m a little out of practice. I must get to work again. With thevery weeds growing higher than our heads, we should raise plenty of good stuffto eat on this land, if we can’t afford anything else but taxes.”

Elnora laughed and hurried up stairs to change her dress. Margaret Sinton camethat night bringing a beautiful blue one in its place, and carried away theother to launder.

“Do you mean to say those dresses are to be washed every two days?” questionedMrs. Comstock.

“They have to be, to look fresh,” replied Margaret. “We want our girl sweet asa rose.”

“Well, of all things!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Every two days! Any girl who can’tkeep a dress clean longer than that is a dirty girl. You’ll wear the goods outand fade the colours with so much washing.”

“We’ll have a clean girl, anyway.”

“Well, if you like the job you can have it,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I don’t mindthe washing, but I’m so inconvenient with an iron.”

Elnora sat late that night working over her lessons. The next morning she puton her blue dress and ribbon and in those she was a picture. Mrs. Comstockcaught her breath with a queer stirring around her heart, and looked twice tobe sure of what she saw. As Elnora gathered her books her mother silently gaveher the lunch box.

“Feels heavy,” said Elnora gaily. “And smelly! Like as not I’ll be called uponto divide again.”

“Then you divide!” said Mrs. Comstock. “Eating is the one thing we don’t haveto economize on, Elnora. Spite of all I can do food goes to waste in this soilevery day. If you can give some of those city children a taste of the realthing, why, don’t be selfish.”

Elnora went down the road thinking of the city children with whom she probablywould divide. Of course, the bridge would be occupied again. So she stopped andopened the box.

“I don’t want to be selfish,” murmured Elnora, “but it really seems as if Ican’t give away this lunch. If mother did not put love into it, she’ssubstituted something that’s likely to fool me.”

She almost felt her steps lagging as she approached the bridge. A very hungrydog had been added to the trio of children. Elnora loved all dogs, and asusual, this one came to her in friendliness. The children said “Good morning!”with alacrity, and another paper parcel lay conspicuous.

“How are you this morning?” inquired Elnora.

“All right!” cried the three, while the dog sniffed ravenously at the lunchbox, and beat a perfect tattoo with his tail.

“How did you like the bologna?” questioned Billy eagerly.

“One of the girls took me to lunch at her home yesterday,” answered Elnora.

Dawn broke beautifully over Billy’s streaked face. He caught the package andthrust it toward Elnora.

“Then maybe you’d like to try the bologna to-day!”

The dog leaped in glad apprehension of something, and Belle scrambled to herfeet and took a step forward. The look of famished greed in her eyes was morethan Elnora could endure. It was not that she cared for the food so much. Goodthings to eat had been in abundance all her life. She wanted with this lunch totry to absorb what she felt must be an expression of some sort from her mother,and if it were not a manifestation of love, she did not know what to think it.But it was her mother who had said “be generous.” She knelt on the bridge.“Keep back the dog!” she warned the elder boy.

She opened the box and divided the milk between Billy and the girl. She gaveeach a piece of cake leaving one and a sandwich. Billy pressed forward eagerly,bitter disappointment on his face, and the elder boy forgot his charge.

“Aw, I thought they’d be meat!” lamented Billy.

Elnora could not endure that.

“There is!” she said gladly. “There is a little pigeon bird. I want a teenypiece of the breast, for a sort of keepsake, just one bite, and you can havethe rest among you.”

Elnora drew the knife from its holder and cut off the wishbone. Then she heldthe bird toward the girl.

“You can divide it,” she said. The dog made a bound and seizing the squabsprang from the bridge and ran for life. The girl and boy hurried after him.With awful eyes Billy stared and swore tempestuously. Elnora caught him andclapped her hand over the little mouth. A delivery wagon came tearing down thestreet, the horse running full speed, passed the fleeing dog with the girl andboy in pursuit, and stopped at the bridge. High school girls began to roll fromall sides of it.

“A rescue! A rescue!” they shouted.

It was Ellen Brownlee and her crowd, and every girl of them carried a bigparcel. They took in the scene as they approached. The fleeing dog withsomething in its mouth, the half-naked girl and boy chasing it told the story.Those girls screamed with laughter as they watched the pursuit.

“Thank goodness, I saved the wishbone!” said Elnora. “As usual, I can provethat there was a bird.” She turned toward the box. Billy had improved the time.He had the last piece of cake in one hand, and the last bite of saladdisappeared in one great gulp. Then the girls shouted again.

“Let’s have a sample ourselves,” suggested one. She caught up the box andhanded out the remaining sandwich. Another girl divided it into bites eachlittle over an inch square, and then she lifted the cup lid and deposited apreserved strawberry on each bite. “One, two, three, altogether now!” shecried.

“You old mean things!” screamed Billy.

In an instant he was down in the road and handfuls of dust began to fly amongthem. The girls scattered before him.

“Billy!” cried Elnora. “Billy! I’ll never give you another bite, if you throwdust on any one!”

Then Billy dropped the dust, bored both fists into his eyes, and fled sobbinginto Elnora’s new blue skirt. She stooped to meet him and consolation began.Those girls laughed on. They screamed and shouted until the little bridgeshook.

“To-morrow might as well be a clear day,” said Ellen, passing around andfeeding the remaining berries to the girls as they could compose themselvesenough to take them. “Billy, I admire your taste more than your temper.”

Elnora looked up. “The little soul is nothing but skin and bones,” she said. “Inever was really hungry myself; were any of you?”

“Well, I should say so,” cried a plump, rosy girl. “I’m famished right now.Let’s have breakfast immediate!”

“We got to refill this box first!” said Ellen Brownlee. “Who’s got the butter?”A girl advanced with a wooden tray.

“Put it in the preserve cup, a little strawberry flavour won’t hurt it. Next!”called Ellen.

A loaf of bread was produced and Ellen cut off a piece which filled thesandwich box.

“Next!” A bottle of olives was unwrapped. The grocer’s boy who was waitingopened that, and Ellen filled the salad dish.

“Next!”

A bag of macaroons was produced and the cake compartment filled.

“Next!”

“I don’t suppose this will make quite as good dog feed as a bird,” laughed agirl holding open a bag of sliced ham while Ellen filled the meat dish.

“Next!”

A box of candy was handed her and she stuffed every corner of the lunch boxwith chocolates and nougat. Then it was closed and formally presented toElnora. The girls each helped themselves to candy and olives, and gave Billythe remainder of the food. Billy took one bite of ham, and approved. Belle andJimmy had given up chasing the dog, and angry and ashamed, stood waiting half ablock away.

“Come back!” cried Billy. “You great big dunces, come back! They’s a new kindof meat, and cake and candy.”

The boy delayed, but the girl joined Billy. Ellen wiped her fingers, stepped tothe cement abutment and began reciting “Horatio at the Bridge!” substitutingElnora wherever the hero appeared in the lines.

Elnora gathered up the sacks, and gave them to Belle, telling her to take thefood home, cut and spread the bread, set things on the table, and eat nicely.

Then Elnora was taken into the wagon with the girls, and driven on the run tothe high school. They sang a song beginning—

“Elnora, please give me a sandwich.
I’m ashamed to ask for cake!”

as they went. Elnora did not know it, but that was her initiation. She belongedto “the crowd.” She only knew that she was happy, and vaguely wondered what hermother and Aunt Margaret would have said about the proceedings.

CHAPTER VII

WHEREIN MRS. COMSTOCK MANIPULATES MARGARET AND BILLY ACQUIRES ARESIDENCE

Saturday morning Elnora helped her mother with the work. When she had finishedMrs. Comstock told her to go to Sintons’ and wash her Indian relics, so thatshe would be ready to accompany Wesley to town in the afternoon. Elnora hurrieddown the road and was soon at the cistern with a tub busily washing arrowpoints, stone axes, tubes, pipes, and skin-cleaning implements.

Then she went home, dressed and was waiting when the carriage reached the gate.She stopped at the bank with the box, and Sinton went to do his marketing andsome shopping for his wife.

At the dry goods store Mr. Brownlee called to him, “Hello, Sinton! How do youlike the fate of your lunch box?” Then he began to laugh—

“I always hate to see a man laughing alone,” said Sinton. “It looks so selfish!Tell me the fun, and let me help you.”

Mr. Brownlee wiped his eyes.

“I supposed you knew, but I see she hasn’t told.”

Then the three days’ history of the lunch box was repeated with particularswhich included the dog.

“Now laugh!” concluded Mr. Brownlee.

“Blest if I see anything funny!” replied Wesley Sinton. “And if you had boughtthat box and furnished one of those lunches yourself, you wouldn’t either. Icall such a work a shame! I’ll have it stopped.”

“Some one must see to that, all right. They are little leeches. Their fatherearns enough to support them, but they have no mother, and they run wild. Isuppose they are crazy for cooked food. But it is funny, and when you think itover you will see it, if you don’t now.”

“About where would a body find that father?” inquired Wesley Sinton grimly. Mr.Brownlee told him and he started, locating the house with little difficulty.House was the proper word, for of home there was no sign. Just a small emptyhouse with three unkept little children racing through and around it. The girland the elder boy hung back, but dirty little Billy greeted Sinton with: “Whatyou want here?”

“I want to see your father,” said Sinton.

“Well, he’s asleep,” said Billy.

“Where?” asked Sinton.

“In the house,” answered Billy, “and you can’t wake him.”

“Well, I’ll try,” said Wesley.

Billy led the way. “There he is!” he said. “He is drunk again.”

On a dirty mattress in a corner lay a man who appeared to be strong and well.Billy was right. You could not awake him. He had gone the limit, and a littlebeyond.

He was now facing eternity. Sinton went out and closed the door.

“Your father is sick and needs help,” he said. “You stay here, and I will senda man to see him.”

“If you just let him ’lone, he’ll sleep it off,” volunteered Billy. “He’s thatway all the time, but he wakes up and gets us something to eat after awhile.Only waitin’ twists you up inside pretty bad.”

The boy wore no air of complaint. He was merely stating facts.

Wesley Sinton looked intently at Billy. “Are you twisted up inside now?” heasked.

Billy laid a grimy hand on the region of his stomach and the filthy littlewaist sank close to the backbone. “Bet yer life, boss,” he said cheerfully.

“How long have you been twisted?” asked Sinton.

Billy appealed to the others. “When was it we had the stuff on the bridge?”

“Yesterday morning,” said the girl.

“Is that all gone?” asked Sinton.

“She went and told us to take it home,” said Billy ruefully, “and ’cos she saidto, we took it. Pa had come back, he was drinking some more, and he ate a lotof it—almost the whole thing, and it made him sick as a dog, and he wentand wasted all of it. Then he got drunk some more, and now he’s asleep again.We didn’t get hardly none.”

“You children sit on the steps until the man comes,” said Sinton. “I’ll sendyou some things to eat with him. What’s your name, sonny?”

“Billy,” said the boy.

“Well, Billy, I guess you better come with me. I’ll take care of him,” Sintonpromised the others. He reached a hand to Billy.

“I ain’t no baby, I’m a boy!” said Billy, as he shuffled along beside Sinton,taking a kick at every movable object without regard to his battered toes.

Once they passed a Great Dane dog lolling after its master, and Billy ascendedSinton as if he were a tree, and clung to him with trembling hot hands.

“I ain’t afraid of that dog,” scoffed Billy, as he was again placed on thewalk, “but onc’t he took me for a rat or somepin’ and his teeth cut into myback. If I’d a done right, I’d a took the law on him.”

Sinton looked down into the indignant little face. The child was bright enough,he had a good head, but oh, such a body!

“I ’bout got enough of dogs,” said Billy. “I used to like ’em, but I’m gettingpretty tired. You ought to seen the lickin’ Jimmy and Belle and me give our dogwhen we caught him, for taking a little bird she gave us. We waited ’till hewas asleep ’nen laid a board on him and all of us jumped on it to onc’t. Youcould a heard him yell a mile. Belle said mebbe we could squeeze the bird outof him. But, squeeze nothing! He was holler as us, and that bird was lost long’fore it got to his stummick. It was ist a little one, anyway. Belle said itwouldn’t ’a’ made a bite apiece for three of us nohow, and the dog got one goodswaller. We didn’t get much of the meat, either. Pa took most of that. Seemslike pas and dogs gets everything.”

Billy laughed dolefully. Involuntarily Wesley Sinton reached his hand. Theywere coming into the business part of Onabasha and the streets were crowded.Billy understood it to mean that he might lose his companion and took a grip.That little hot hand clinging tight to his, the sore feet recklessly scouringthe walk, the hungry child panting for breath as he tried to keep even, thebrave soul jesting in the face of hard luck, caught Sinton in a tender, emptyspot.

“Say, son,” he said. “How would you like to be washed clean, and have all thesupper your skin could hold, and sleep in a good bed?”

“Aw, gee!” said Billy. “I ain’t dead yet! Them things is in heaven! Poor folkscan’t have them. Pa said so.”

“Well, you can have them if you want to go with me and get them,” promisedSinton.

“Honest?”

“Yes, honest.”

“Crost yer heart?”

“Yes,” said Sinton.

“Kin I take some to Jimmy and Belle?”

“If you’ll come with me and be my boy, I’ll see that they have plenty.”

“What will pa say?”

“Your pa is in that kind of sleep now where he won’t wake up, Billy,” saidSinton. “I am pretty sure the law will give you to me, if you want to come.”

“When people don’t ever wake up they’re dead,” announced Billy. “Is my padead?”

“Yes, he is,” answered Sinton.

“And you’ll take care of Jimmy and Belle, too?”

“I can’t adopt all three of you,” said Sinton. “I’ll take you, and see thatthey are well provided for. Will you come?”

“Yep, I’ll come,” said Billy. “Let’s eat, first thing we do.”

“All right,” agreed Sinton. “Come into this restaurant.” He lifted Billy to thelunch counter and ordered the clerk to give him as many glasses of milk as hewanted, and a biscuit. “I think there’s going to be fried chicken when we gethome, Billy,” he said, “so you just take the edge off now, and fill up later.”

While Billy lunched Sinton called up the different departments and notified theproper authorities ending with the Women’s Relief Association. He sent a basketof food to Belle and Jimmy, bought Billy a pair of trousers, and a shirt, andwent to bring Elnora.

“Why, Uncle Wesley!” cried the girl. “Where did you find Billy?”

“I’ve adopted him for the time being, if not longer,” replied Wesley Sinton.

“Where did you get him?”

“Well, young woman,” said Wesley Sinton, “Mr. Brownlee told me the history ofyour lunch box. It didn’t seem so funny to me as it does to the rest of them;so I went to look up the father of Billy’s family, and make him take care ofthem, or allow the law to do it for him. It will have to be the law.”

“He’s deader than anything!” broke in Billy. “He can’t ever take all the meatany more.”

“Billy!” gasped Elnora.

“Never you mind!” said Sinton. “A child doesn’t say such things about a fatherwho loved and raised him right. When it happens, the father alone is to blame.You won’t hear Billy talk like that about me when I cross over.”

“You don’t mean you are going to take him to keep!”

“I’ll soon need help,” said Wesley. “Billy will come in just about right tenyears from now, and if I raise him I’ll have him the way I want him.”

“But Aunt Margaret doesn’t like boys,” objected Elnora.

“Well, she likes me, and I used to be a boy. Anyway, as I remember she has hadher way about everything at our house ever since we were married. I am going toplease myself about Billy. Hasn’t she always done just as she chose so far asyou know? Honest, Elnora!”

“Honest!” replied Elnora. “You are beautiful to all of us, Uncle Wesley; butAunt Margaret won’t like Billy. She won’t want him in her home.”

“In our home,” corrected Wesley.

“What makes you want him?” marvelled Elnora.

“God only knows,” said Sinton. “Billy ain’t so beautiful, and he ain’t sosmart, I guess it’s because he’s so human. My heart goes out to him.”

“So did mine,” said Elnora. “I love him. I’d rather see him eat my lunch thanhave it myself any time.”

“What makes you like him?” asked Wesley.

“Why, I don’t know,” pondered Elnora. “He’s so little, he needs so much, he’sgot such splendid grit, and he’s perfectly unselfish with his brother andsister. But we must wash him before Aunt Margaret sees him. I wonder ifmother——”

“You needn’t bother. I’m going to take him home the way he is,” said Sinton. “Iwant Maggie to see the worst of it.”

“I’m afraid——” began Elnora.

“So am I,” said Wesley, “but I won’t give him up. He’s taken a sort of grip onmy heart. I’ve always been crazy for a boy. Don’t let him hear us.”

“Don’t let him be killed!” cried Elnora. During their talk Billy had wanderedto the edge of the walk and barely escaped the wheels of a passing automobilein an effort to catch a stray kitten that seemed in danger.

Wesley drew Billy back to the walk, and held his hand closely. “Are you ready,Elnora?”

“Yes; you were gone a long time,” she said.

Wesley glanced at a package she carried. “Have to have another book?” he asked.

“No, I bought this for mother. I’ve had such splendid luck selling myspecimens, I didn’t feel right about keeping all the money for myself, so Isaved enough from the Indian relics to get a few things I wanted. I would haveliked to have gotten her a dress, but I didn’t dare, so I compromised on abook.”

“What did you select, Elnora?” asked Wesley wonderingly.

“Well,” said she, “I have noticed mother always seemed interested in anythingMark Twain wrote in the newspapers, and I thought it would cheer her up alittle, so I just got his ‘Innocents Abroad.’ I haven’t read it myself, butI’ve seen mention made of it all my life, and the critics say it’s genuinefun.”

“Good!” cried Sinton. “Good! You’ve made a splendid choice. It will take hermind off herself a lot. But she will scold you.”

“Of course,” assented Elnora. “But, possibly she will read it, and feel better.I’m going to serve her a trick. I am going to hide it until Monday, and set iton her little shelf of books the last thing before I go away. She must have allof them by heart. When she sees a new one she can’t help being glad, for sheloves to read, and if she has all day to become interested, maybe she’ll likeit so she won’t scold so much.”

“We are both in for it, but I guess we are prepared. I don’t know what Margaretwill say, but I’m going to take Billy home and see. Maybe he can win with her,as he did with us.”

Elnora had doubts, but she did not say anything more. When they started homeBilly sat on the front seat. He drove with the hitching strap tied to therailing of the dash-board, flourished the whip, and yelled with delight. Atfirst Sinton laughed with him, but by the time he left Elnora with severalpackages at her gate, he was looking serious enough.

Margaret was at the door as they drove up the lane. Wesley left Billy in thecarriage, hitched the horses and went to explain to her. He had not reached herbefore she cried, “Look, Wesley, that child! You’ll have a runaway!”

Wesley looked and ran. Billy was standing in the carriage slashing themettlesome horses with the whip.

“See me make ’em go!” he shouted as the whip fell a second time.

He did make them go. They took the hitching post and a few fence palings, whichscraped the paint from a wheel. Sinton missed the lines at the first effort,but the dragging post impeded the horses, and he soon caught them. He led themto the barn, and ordered Billy to remain in the carriage while he unhitched.Then leading Billy and carrying his packages he entered the yard.

“You run play a few minutes, Billy,” he said. “I want to talk to the nicelady.”

The nice lady was looking rather stupefied as Wesley approached her.

“Where in the name of sense did you get that awful child?” she demanded.

“He is a young gentleman who has been stopping Elnora and eating her lunchevery day, part of the time with the assistance of his brother and sister,while our girl went hungry. Brownlee told me about it at the store. It’shappened three days running. The first time she went without anything, thesecond time Brownlee’s girl took her to lunch, and the third a crowd of highschool girls bought a lot of stuff and met them at the bridge. The youngstersseemed to think they could rob her every day, so I went to see their fatherabout having it stopped.”

“Well, I should think so!” cried Margaret.

“There were three of them, Margaret,” said Wesley, “that littlefellow——”

“Hyena, you mean,” interpolated Margaret.

“Hyena,” corrected Wesley gravely, “and another boy and a girl, all equallydirty and hungry. The man was dead. They thought he was in a drunken sleep, buthe was stone dead. I brought the little boy with me, and sent the officers andother help to the house. He’s half starved. I want to wash him, and put cleanclothes on him, and give him some supper.”

“Have you got anything to put on him?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Bought it. It ain’t much. All I got didn’t cost a dollar.”

“A dollar is a good deal when you work and save for it the way we do.”

“Well, I don’t know a better place to put it. Have you got any hot water? I’lluse this tub at the cistern. Please give me some soap and towels.”

Instead Margaret pushed by him with a shriek. Billy had played by producing acord from his pocket, and having tied the tails of Margaret’s white kittenstogether, he had climbed on a box and hung them across the clothes line. Wildwith fright the kittens were clawing each other to death, and the air was whitewith fur. The string had twisted and the frightened creatures could notrecognize friends. Margaret stepped back with bleeding hands. Sinton cut thecord with his knife and the poor little cats raced under the house bleeding anddisfigured. Margaret white with wrath faced Wesley.

“If you don’t hitch up and take that animal back to town,” she said, “I will.”

Billy threw himself on the grass and began to scream.

“You said I could have fried chicken for supper,” he wailed. “You said she wasa nice lady!”

Wesley lifted him and something in his manner of handling the child infuriatedMargaret. His touch was so gentle. She reached for Billy and gripped his shirtcollar in the back. Wesley’s hand closed over hers.

“Gently, girl!” he said. “This little body is covered with sores.”

“Sores!” she ejaculated. “Sores? What kind of sores?”

“Oh, they might be from bruises made by fists or boot toes, or they might bebad blood, from wrong eating, or they might be pure filth. Will you hand mesome towels?”

“No, I won’t!” said Margaret.

“Well, give me some rags, then.”

Margaret compromised on pieces of old tablecloth. Wesley led Billy to thecistern, pumped cold water into the tub, poured in a kettle of hot, andbeginning at the head scoured him. The boy shut his little teeth, and saidnever a word though he twisted occasionally when the soap struck a raw spot.Margaret watched the process from the window in amazed and ever-increasinganger. Where did Wesley learn it? How could his big hands be so gentle? He cameto the door.

“Have you got any peroxide?” he asked.

“A little,” she answered stiffly.

“Well, I need about a pint, but I’ll begin on what you have.”

Margaret handed him the bottle. Wesley took a cup, weakened the drug and saidto Billy: “Man, these sores on you must be healed. Then you must eat the kindof food that’s fit for little men. I am going to put some medicine on you, andit is going to sting like fire. If it just runs off, I won’t use any more. Ifit boils, there is poison in these places, and they must be tied up, dosedevery day, and you must be washed, and kept mighty clean. Now, hold still,because I am going to put it on.”

“I think the one on my leg is the worst,” said the undaunted Billy, holding outa raw place. Sinton poured on the drug. Billy’s body twisted and writhed, buthe did not run.

“Gee, look at it boil!” he cried. “I guess they’s poison. You’ll have to do itto all of them.”

Wesley’s teeth were set, as he watched the boy’s face. He poured the drug,strong enough to do effective work, on a dozen places over that little body andbandaged all he could. Billy’s lips quivered at times, and his chin jumped, buthe did not shed a tear or utter a sound other than to take a deep interest inthe boiling. As Wesley put the small shirt on the boy, and fastened thetrousers, he was ready to reset the hitching post and mend the fence without aword.

“Now am I clean?” asked Billy.

“Yes, you are clean outside,” said Wesley. “There is some dirty blood in yourbody, and some bad words in your mouth, that we have to get out, but that takestime. If we put right things to eat into your stomach that will do away withthe sores, and if you know that I don’t like bad words you won’t say them anyoftener than you can help, will you Billy?”

Billy leaned against Wesley in apparent indifference.

“I want to see me!” he demanded.

Wesley led the boy into the house, and lifted him to a mirror.

“My, I’m purty good-looking, ain’t I?” bragged Billy. Then as Wesley stooped toset him on the floor Billy’s lips passed close to the big man’s ear and hastilywhispered a vehement “No!” as he ran for the door.

“How long until supper, Margaret?” asked Wesley as he followed.

“You are going to keep him for supper?” she asked

“Sure!” said Wesley. “That’s what I brought him for. It’s likely he never had agood square meal of decent food in his life. He’s starved to the bone.”

Margaret arose deliberately, removed the white cloth from the supper table andsubstituted an old red one she used to wrap the bread. She put away the prettydishes they commonly used and set the table with old plates for pies andkitchen utensils. But she fried the chicken, and was generous with milk andhoney, snowy bread, gravy, potatoes, and fruit.

Wesley repainted the scratched wheel. He mended the fence, with Billy holdingthe nails and handing the pickets. Then he filled the old hole, digged a newone and set the hitching post.

Billy hopped on one foot at his task of holding the post steady as the earthwas packed around it. There was not the shadow of a trouble on his littlefreckled face.

Sinton threw in stones and pounded the earth solid around the post. The soundof a gulping sob attracted him to Billy. The tears were rolling down hischeeks. “If I’d a knowed you’d have to get down in a hole, and work so hard Iwouldn’t ’a’ hit the horses,” he said.

“Never you mind, Billy,” said Wesley. “You will know next time, so you canthink over it, and make up your mind whether you really want to before youstrike.”

Wesley went to the barn to put away the tools. He thought Billy was at hisheels, but the boy lagged on the way. A big snowy turkey gobbler resented thesmall intruder in his especial preserves, and with spread tail and draggingwings came toward him threateningly. If that turkey gobbler had known the sortof things with which Billy was accustomed to holding his own, he never wouldhave issued the challenge. Billy accepted instantly. He danced around withstiff arms at his sides and imitated the gobbler. Then came his opportunity,and he jumped on the big turkey’s back. Wesley heard Margaret’s scream in timeto see the flying leap and admire its dexterity. The turkey tucked its tail andscampered. Billy slid from its back and as he fell he clutched wildly, caughtthe folded tail, and instinctively clung to it. The turkey gave one scream andrelaxed its muscles. Then it fled in disfigured defeat to the haystack. Billyscrambled to his feet holding the tail, while his eyes were bulging.

“Why, the blasted old thing came off!” he said to Wesley, holding out the tailin amazed wonder.

The man, caught suddenly, forgot everything and roared. Seeing which, Billythought a turkey tail of no account and flung that one high above him shoutingin wild childish laughter, when the feathers scattered and fell.

Margaret, watching, began to cry. Wesley had gone mad. For the first time inher married life she wanted to tell her mother. When Wesley had waited until hewas so hungry he could wait no longer he invaded the kitchen to find a cookedsupper baking on the back of the stove, while Margaret with red eyes nursed apair of demoralized white kittens.

“Is supper ready?” he asked.

“It has been for an hour,” answered Margaret.

“Why didn’t you call us?”

That “us” had too much comradeship in it. It irritated Margaret.

“I supposed it would take you even longer than this to fix things decent again.As for my turkey, and my poor little kittens, they don’t matter.”

“I am mighty sorry about them, Margaret, you know that. Billy is very bright,and he will soon learn——”

“Soon learn!” cried Margaret. “Wesley Sinton, you don’t mean to say that youthink of keeping that creature here for some time?”

“No, I think of keeping a well-behaved little boy.”

Margaret set the supper on the table. Seeing the old red cloth Wesley stared inamazement. Then he understood. Billy capered around in delight.

“Ain’t that pretty?” he exulted. “I wish Jimmy and Belle could see. We, why weist eat out of our hands or off a old dry goods box, and when we fix up a lot,we have newspaper. We ain’t ever had a nice red cloth like this.”

Wesley looked straight at Margaret, so intently that she turned away, her faceflushing. He stacked the dictionary and the geography of the world on a chair,and lifted Billy beside him. He heaped a plate generously, cut the food, put afork into Billy’s little fist, and made him eat slowly and properly. Billy didhis best. Occasionally greed overcame him, and he used his left hand to pop abite into his mouth with his fingers. These lapses Wesley patiently overlooked,and went on with his general instructions. Luckily Billy did not spill anythingon his clothing or the cloth. After supper Wesley took him to the barn while hefinished the night work. Then he went and sat beside Margaret on the frontporch. Billy appropriated the hammock, and swung by pulling a rope tied arounda tree. The very energy with which he went at the work of swinging himselfappealed to Wesley.

“Mercy, but he’s an active little body,” he said. “There isn’t a lazy bone inhim. See how he works to pay for his fun.”

“There goes his foot through it!” cried Margaret. “Wesley, he shall not ruin myhammock.”

“Of course he shan’t!” said Wesley. “Wait, Billy, let me show you.”

Thereupon he explained to Billy that ladies wearing beautiful white dresses satin hammocks, so little boys must not put their dusty feet in them. Billyimmediately sat, and allowed his feet to swing.

“Margaret,” said Wesley after a long silence on the porch, “isn’t it true thatif Billy had been a half-starved sore cat, dog, or animal of any sort, that youwould have pitied, and helped care for it, and been glad to see me get anypleasure out of it I could?”

“Yes,” said Margaret coldly.

“But because I brought a child with an immortal soul, there is no welcome.”

“That isn’t a child, it’s an animal.”

“You just said you would have welcomed an animal.”

“Not a wild one. I meant a tame beast.”

“Billy is not a beast!” said Wesley hotly. “He is a very dear little boy.Margaret, you’ve always done the church-going and Bible reading for thisfamily. How do you reconcile that ‘Suffer little children to come unto Me’ withthe way you are treating Billy?”

Margaret arose. “I haven’t treated that child. I have only let him alone. I canbarely hold myself. He needs the hide tanned about off him!”

“If you’d cared to look at his body, you’d know that you couldn’t find a placeto strike without cutting into a raw spot,” said Wesley. “Besides, Billy hasnot done a thing for which a child should be punished. He is only full of life,no training, and with a boy’s love of mischief. He did abuse your kittens, butan hour before I saw him risk his life to save one from being run over. Heminds what you tell him, and doesn’t do anything he is told not to. He thinksof his brother and sister right away when anything pleases him. He took thatstinging medicine with the grit of a bulldog. He is just a bully little chap,and I love him.”

“Oh good heavens!” cried Margaret, going into the house as she spoke.

Sinton sat still. At last Billy tired of the swing, came to him and leaned hisslight body against the big knee.

“Am I going to sleep here?” he asked.

“Sure you are!” said Sinton.

Billy swung his feet as he laid across Wesley’s knee. “Come on,” said Wesley,“I must clean you up for bed.”

“You have to be just awful clean here,” announced Billy. “I like to be clean,you feel so good, after the hurt is over.”

Sinton registered that remark, and worked with especial tenderness as heredressed the ailing places and washed the dust from Billy’s feet and hands.

“Where can he sleep?” he asked Margaret.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered.

“Oh, I can sleep ist any place,” said Billy. “On the floor or anywhere. Home, Isleep on pa’s coat on a store-box, and Jimmy and Belle they sleep on thestorebox, too. I sleep between them, so’s I don’t roll off and crack my head.Ain’t you got a storebox and a old coat?”

Wesley arose and opened a folding lounge. Then he brought an armload of cleanhorse blankets from a closet.

“These don’t look like the nice white bed a little boy should have, Billy,” hesaid, “but we’ll make them do. This will beat a storebox all hollow.”

Billy took a long leap for the lounge. When he found it bounced, he proceededto bounce, until he was tired. By that time the blankets had to be refolded.Wesley had Billy take one end and help, while both of them seemed to enjoy thejob. Then Billy lay down and curled up in his clothes like a small dog. Butsleep would not come.

Finally he sat up. He stared around restlessly. Then he arose, went to Wesley,and leaned against his knee. He picked up the boy and folded his arms aroundhim. Billy sighed in rapturous content.

“That bed feels so lost like,” he said. “Jimmy always jabbed me on one side,and Belle on the other, and so I knew I was there. Do you know where they are?”

“They are with kind people who gave them a fine supper, a clean bed, and willalways take good care of them.”

“I wisht I was—” Billy hesitated and looked earnestly at Wesley. “I meanI wish they was here.”

“You are about all I can manage, Billy,” said Wesley.

Billy sat up. “Can’t she manage anything?” he asked, waving toward Margaret.

“Indeed, yes,” said Wesley. “She has managed me for twenty years.”

“My, but she made you nice!” said Billy. “I just love you. I wisht she’d takeJimmy and Belle and make them nice as you.”

“She isn’t strong enough to do that, Billy. They will grow into a good boy andgirl where they are.”

Billy slid from Wesley’s arms and walked toward Margaret until he reached themiddle of the room. Then he stopped, and at last sat on the floor. Finally helay down and closed his eyes. “This feels more like my bed; if only Jimmy andBelle was here to crowd up a little, so it wasn’t so alone like.”

“Won’t I do, Billy?” asked Wesley in a husky voice.

Billy moved restlessly. “Seems like—seems like toward night as if a bodygot kind o’ lonesome for a woman person—like her.”

Billy indicated Margaret and then closed his eyes so tight his small facewrinkled.

Soon he was up again. “Wisht I had Snap,” he said. “Oh, I ist wisht I hadSnap!”

“I thought you laid a board on Snap and jumped on it,” said Wesley.

“We did!” cried Billy—“oh, you ought to heard him squeal!” Billy laughedloudly, then his face clouded.

“But I want Snap to lay beside me so bad now—that if he was here I’d givehim a piece of my chicken, ’fore I ate any. Do you like dogs?”

“Yes, I do,” said Wesley.

Billy was up instantly. “Would you like Snap?”

“I am sure I would,” said Wesley.

“Would she?” Billy indicated Margaret. And then he answered his own question.“But of course, she wouldn’t, cos she likes cats, and dogs chases cats. Oh,dear, I thought for a minute maybe Snap could come here.” Billy lay down andclosed his eyes resolutely.

Suddenly they flew open. “Does it hurt to be dead?” he demanded.

“Nothing hurts you after you are dead, Billy,” said Wesley.

“Yes, but I mean does it hurt getting to be dead?”

“Sometimes it does. It did not hurt your father, Billy. It came softly while hewas asleep.”

“It ist came softly?”

“Yes.”

“I kind o’ wisht he wasn’t dead!” said Billy. “’Course I like to stay with you,and the fried chicken, and the nice soft bed, and—and everything, and Ilike to be clean, but he took us to the show, and he got us gum, and he neverhurt us when he wasn’t drunk.”

Billy drew a deep breath, and tightly closed his eyes. But very soon theyopened. Then he sat up. He looked at Wesley pitifully, and then he glanced atMargaret. “You don’t like boys, do you?” he questioned.

“I like good boys,” said Margaret.

Billy was at her knee instantly. “Well say, I’m a good boy!” he announcedjoyously.

“I do not think boys who hurt helpless kittens and pull out turkeys’ tails aregood boys.”

“Yes, but I didn’t hurt the kittens,” explained Billy. “They got mad ’bout ista little fun and scratched each other. I didn’t s’pose they’d act like that.And I didn’t pull the turkey’s tail. I ist held on to the first thing Igrabbed, and the turkey pulled. Honest, it was the turkey pulled.” He turned toWesley. “You tell her! Didn’t the turkey pull? I didn’t know its tail wasloose, did I?”

“I don’t think you did, Billy,” said Wesley.

Billy stared into Margaret’s cold face. “Sometimes at night, Belle sits on thefloor, and I lay my head in her lap. I could pull up a chair and lay my head inyour lap. Like this, I mean.” Billy pulled up a chair, climbed on it and laidhis head on Margaret’s lap. Then he shut his eyes again. Margaret could havelooked little more repulsed if he had been a snake. Billy was soon up.

“My, but your lap is hard,” he said. “And you are a good deal fatter ’an Belle,too!” He slid from the chair and came back to the middle of the room.

“Oh but I wisht he wasn’t dead!” he cried. The flood broke and Billy screamedin desperation.

Out of the night a soft, warm young figure flashed through the door and with aswoop caught him in her arms. She dropped into a chair, nestled him closely,drooped her fragrant brown head over his little bullet-eyed red one, and rockedsoftly while she crooned over him—

“Billy, boy, where have you been?
Oh, I have been to seek a wife,
She’s the joy of my life,
But then she’s a young thing and she can’t leave her mammy!”

Billy clung to her frantically. Elnora wiped his eyes, kissed his face, swayedand sang.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” she asked at last.

“I don’t know,” said Billy. “I tried. I tried awful hard cos I thought hewanted me to, but it ist wouldn’t come. Please tell her I tried.” He appealedto Margaret.

“He did try to go to sleep,” admitted Margaret.

“Maybe he can’t sleep in his clothes,” suggested Elnora. “Haven’t you an olddressing sacque? I could roll the sleeves.”

Margaret got an old sacque, and Elnora put it on Billy. Then she brought abasin of water and bathed his face and head. She gathered him up and began torock again.

“Have you got a pa?” asked Billy.

“No,” said Elnora.

“Is he dead like mine?”

“Yes.”

“Did it hurt him to die?”

“I don’t know.”

Billy was wide awake again. “It didn’t hurt my pa,” he boasted; “he ist diedwhile he was asleep. He didn’t even know it was coming.”

“I am glad of that,” said Elnora, pressing the small head against her breastagain.

Billy escaped her hand and sat up. “I guess I won’t go to sleep,” he said. “Itmight ’come softly’ and get me.”

“It won’t get you, Billy,” said Elnora, rocking and singing between sentences.“It doesn’t get little boys. It just takes big people who are sick.”

“Was my pa sick?”

“Yes,” said Elnora. “He had a dreadful sickness inside him that burned, andmade him drink things. That was why he would forget his little boys and girl.If he had been well, he would have gotten you good things to eat, cleanclothes, and had the most fun with you.”

Billy leaned against her and closed his eyes, and Elnora rocked hopefully.

“If I was dead would you cry?” he was up again.

“Yes, I would,” said Elnora, gripping him closer until Billy almost squealedwith the embrace.

“Do you love me tight as that?” he questioned blissfully.

“Yes, bushels and bushels,” said Elnora. “Better than any little boy in thewhole world.”

Billy looked at Margaret. “She don’t!” he said. “She’d be glad if it would getme ‘softly,’ right now. She don’t want me here ’t all.”

Elnora smothered his face against her breast and rocked.

“You love me, don’t you?”

“I will, if you will go to sleep.”

“Every single day you will give me your dinner for the bologna, won’t you,”said Billy.

“Yes, I will,” replied Elnora. “But you will have as good lunch as I do afterthis. You will have milk, eggs, chicken, all kinds of good things, little pies,and cakes, maybe.”

Billy shook his head. “I am going back home soon as it is light,” he said, “shedon’t want me. She thinks I’m a bad boy. She’s going to whip me—if helets her. She said so. I heard her. Oh, I wish he hadn’t died! I want to gohome.” Billy shrieked again.

Mrs. Comstock had started to walk slowly to meet Elnora. The girl had been solate that her mother reached the Sinton gate and followed the path until thepicture inside became visible. Elnora had told her about Wesley taking Billyhome. Mrs. Comstock had some curiosity to see how Margaret bore the unexpectedaddition to her family. Billy’s voice, raised with excitement, was plainlyaudible. She could see Elnora holding him, and hear his excited wail. Wesley’sface was drawn and haggard, and Margaret’s set and defiant. A very imp ofperversity entered the breast of Mrs. Comstock.

“Hoity, toity!” she said as she suddenly appeared in the door. “Blest if I everheard a man making sounds like that before!”

Billy ceased suddenly. Mrs. Comstock was tall, angular, and her hair wasprematurely white. She was only thirty-six, although she appeared fifty. Butthere was an expression on her usually cold face that was attractive just then,and Billy was in search of attractions.

“Have I stayed too late, mother?” asked Elnora anxiously. “I truly intended tocome straight back, but I thought I could rock Billy to sleep first. Everythingis strange, and he’s so nervous.”

“Is that your ma?” demanded Billy.

“Yes.”

“Does she love you?”

“Of course!”

“My mother didn’t love me,” said Billy. “She went away and left me, and nevercame back. She don’t care what happens to me. You wouldn’t go away and leaveyour little girl, would you?” questioned Billy.

“No,” said Katharine Comstock, “and I wouldn’t leave a little boy, either.”

Billy began sliding from Elnora’s knees.

“Do you like boys?” he questioned.

“If there is anything I love it is a boy,” said Mrs. Comstock assuringly. Billywas on the floor.

“Do you like dogs?”

“Yes. Almost as well as boys. I am going to buy a dog as soon as I can find agood one.”

Billy swept toward her with a whoop.

“Do you want a boy?” he shouted.

Katharine Comstock stretched out her arms, and gathered him in.

“Of course, I want a boy!” she rejoiced.

“Maybe you’d like to have me?” offered Billy.

“Sure I would,” triumphed Mrs. Comstock. “Any one would like to have you. Youare just a real boy, Billy.”

“Will you take Snap?”

“I’d like to have Snap almost as well as you.”

“Mother!” breathed Elnora imploringly. “Don’t! Oh, don’t! He thinks you meanit!”

“And so I do mean it,” said Mrs. Comstock. “I’ll take him in a jiffy. I throwaway enough to feed a little tyke like him every day. His chatter would begreat company while you are gone. Blood soon can be purified with right foodand baths, and as for Snap, I meant to buy a bulldog, but possibly Snap willserve just as well. All I ask of a dog is to bark at the right time. I’ll dothe rest. Would you like to come and be my boy, Billy?”

Billy leaned against Mrs. Comstock, reached his arms around her neck andgripped her with all his puny might. “You can whip me all you want to,” hesaid. “I won’t make a sound.”

Mrs. Comstock held him closely and her hard face was softening; of that therecould be no doubt.

“Now, why would any one whip a nice little boy like you?” she askedwonderingly.

“She”—Billy from his refuge waved toward Margaret—“she was going towhip me ’cause her cats fought, when I tied their tails together and hung themover the line to dry. How did I know her old cats would fight?”

Mrs. Comstock began to laugh suddenly, and try as she would she could not stopso soon as she desired. Billy studied her.

“Have you got turkeys?” he demanded.

“Yes, flocks of them,” said Mrs. Comstock, vainly struggling to suppress hermirth, and settle her face in its accustomed lines.

“Are their tails fast?” demanded Billy.

“Why, I think so,” marvelled Mrs. Comstock.

“Hers ain’t!” said Billy with the wave toward Margaret that was becomingfamiliar. “Her turkey pulled, and its tail comed right off. She’s going to whipme if he lets her. I didn’t know the turkey would pull. I didn’t know its tailwould come off. I won’t ever touch one again, will I?”

“Of course, you won’t,” said Mrs. Comstock. “And what’s more, I don’t care ifyou do! I’d rather have a fine little man like you than all the turkeys in thecountry. Let them lose their old tails if they want to, and let the cats fight.Cats and turkeys don’t compare with boys, who are going to be fine big men someof these days.”

Then Billy and Mrs. Comstock hugged each other rapturously, while theiraudience stared in silent amazement.

“You like boys!” exulted Billy, and his head dropped against Mrs. Comstock inunspeakable content.

“Yes, and if I don’t have to carry you the whole way home, we must start rightnow,” said Mrs. Comstock. “You are going to be asleep before you know it.”

Billy opened his eyes and braced himself. “I can walk,” he said proudly.

“All right, we must start. Come, Elnora! Good-night, folks!” Mrs. Comstock setBilly on the floor, and arose gripping his hand. “You take the other side,Elnora, and we will help him as much as we can,” she said.

Elnora stared piteously at Margaret, then at Wesley, and arose in white-facedbewilderment.

“Billy, are you going to leave without even saying good-bye to me?” askedWesley, with a gulp.

Billy held tight to Mrs. Comstock and Elnora.

“Good-bye!” he said casually. “I’ll come and see you some time.”

Wesley Sinton gave a smothered sob, and strode from the room.

Mrs. Comstock started toward the door, dragging at Billy while Elnora pulledback, but Mrs. Sinton was before them, her eyes flashing.

“Kate Comstock, you think you are mighty smart, don’t you?” she cried.

“I ain’t in the lunatic asylum, where you belong, anyway,” said Mrs. Comstock.“I am smart enough to tell a dandy boy when I see him, and I’m good and glad toget him. I’ll love to have him!”

“Well, you won’t have him!” exclaimed Margaret Sinton. “That boy is Wesley’s!He found him, and brought him here. You can’t come in and take him like that!Let go of him!”

“Not much, I won’t!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “Leave the poor sick little soul herefor you to beat, because he didn’t know just how to handle things! Of course,he’ll make mistakes. He must have a lot of teaching, but not the kind he’ll getfrom you! Clear out of my way!”

“You let go of our boy,” ordered Margaret.

“Why? Do you want to whip him, before he can go to sleep?” jeered Mrs.Comstock.

“No, I don’t!” said Margaret. “He’s Wesley’s, and nobody shall touch him.Wesley!”

Wesley Sinton appeared behind Margaret in the doorway, and she turned to him.“Make Kate Comstock let go of our boy!” she demanded.

“Billy, she wants you now,” said Wesley Sinton. “She won’t whip you, and shewon’t let any one else. You can have stacks of good things to eat, ride in thecarriage, and have a great time. Won’t you stay with us?”

Billy drew away from Mrs. Comstock and Elnora.

He faced Margaret, his eyes shrewd with unchildish wisdom. Necessity had taughthim to strike the hot iron, to drive the hard bargain.

“Can I have Snap to live here always?” he demanded.

“Yes, you can have all the dogs you want,” said Margaret Sinton.

“Can I sleep close enough so’s I can touch you?”

“Yes, you can move your lounge up so that you can hold my hand,” said Margaret.

“Do you love me now?” questioned Billy.

“I’ll try to love you, if you are a good boy,” said Margaret.

“Then I guess I’ll stay,” said Billy, walking over to her.

Out in the night Elnora and her mother went down the road in the moonlight;every few rods Mrs. Comstock laughed aloud.

“Mother, I don’t understand you,” sobbed Elnora.

“Well, maybe when you have gone to high school longer you will,” said Mrs.Comstock. “Anyway, you saw me bring Mag Sinton to her senses, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did,” answered Elnora, “but I thought you were in earnest. So didBilly, and Uncle Wesley, and Aunt Margaret.”

“Well, wasn’t I?” inquired Mrs. Comstock.

“But you just said you brought Aunt Margaret to!”

“Well, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand you.”

“That’s the reason I am recommending more schooling!”

Elnora took her candle and went to bed. Mrs. Comstock was feeling too good tosleep. Twice of late she really had enjoyed herself for the first in sixteenyears, and greediness for more of the same feeling crept into her blood likeintoxication. As she sat brooding alone she knew the truth. She would haveloved to have taken Billy. She would not have minded his mischief, his chatter,or his dog. He would have meant a distraction from herself that she greatlyneeded; she was even sincere about the dog. She had intended to tell Wesley tobuy her one at the very first opportunity. Her last thought was of Billy. Shechuckled softly, for she was not saintly, and now she knew how she could even along score with Margaret and Wesley in a manner that would fill her soul withgrim satisfaction.

CHAPTER VIII

WHEREIN THE LIMBERLOST TEMPTS ELNORA, AND BILLY BURIES HIS FATHER

Immediately after dinner on Sunday Wesley Sinton stopped at the Comstock gateto ask if Elnora wanted to go to town with them. Billy sat beside him and hedid not appear as if he were on his way to a funeral. Elnora said she had tostudy and could not go, but she suggested that her mother take her place. Mrs.Comstock put on her hat and went at once, which surprised Elnora. She did notknow that her mother was anxious for an opportunity to speak with Sinton alone.Elnora knew why she was repeatedly cautioned not to leave their land, if shewent specimen hunting.

She studied two hours and was several lessons ahead of her classes. There wasno use to go further. She would take a walk and see if she could gather anycaterpillars or find any freshly spun cocoons. She searched the bushes and lowtrees behind the garden and all around the edge of the woods on their land, andhaving little success, at last came to the road. Almost the first thorn bushshe examined yielded a Polyphemus cocoon. Elnora lifted her head with theinstinct of a hunter on the chase, and began work. She reached the swamp beforeshe knew it, carrying five fine cocoons of different species as her reward. Shepushed back her hair and gazed around longingly. A few rods inside she thoughtshe saw cocoons on a bush, to which she went, and found several. Sense ofcaution was rapidly vanishing; she was in a fair way to forget everything andplunge into the swamp when she thought she heard footsteps coming down thetrail. She went back, and came out almost facing Pete Corson.

That ended her difficulty. She had known him since childhood. When she sat onthe front bench of the Brushwood schoolhouse, Pete had been one of the big boysat the back of the room. He had been rough and wild, but she never had beenafraid of him, and often he had given her pretty things from the swamp.

“What luck!” she cried. “I promised mother I would not go inside the swampalone, and will you look at the cocoons I’ve found! There are more justscreaming for me to come get them, because the leaves will fall with the firstfrost, and then the jays and crows will begin to tear them open. I haven’t muchtime, since I’m going to school. You will go with me, Pete! Please say yes!Just a little way!”

“What are those things?” asked the man, his keen black eyes staring at her.

“They are the cases these big caterpillars spin for winter, and in the springthey come out great night moths, and I can sell them. Oh, Pete, I can sell themfor enough to take me through high school and dress me so like the others thatI don’t look different, and if I have very good luck I can save some forcollege. Pete, please go with me?”

“Why don’t you go like you always have?”

“Well, the truth is, I had a little scare,” said Elnora. “I never did mean togo alone; sometimes I sort of wandered inside farther than I intended, chasingthings. You know Duncan gave me Freckles’s books, and I have been gatheringmoths like he did. Lately I found I could sell them. If I can make a completecollection, I can get three hundred dollars for it. Three such collectionswould take me almost through college, and I’ve four years in the high schoolyet. That’s a long time. I might collect them.”

“Can every kind there is be found here?”

“No, not all of them, but when I get more than I need of one kind, I can tradethem with collectors farther north and west, so I can complete sets. It’s theonly way I see to earn the money. Look what I have already. Big gray Cecropiascome from this kind; brown Polyphemus from that, and green Lunas from these.You aren’t working on Sunday. Go with me only an hour, Pete!”

The man looked at her narrowly. She was young, wholesome, and beautiful. Shewas innocent, intensely in earnest, and she needed the money, he knew that.

“You didn’t tell me what scared you,” he said.

“Oh, I thought I did! Why you know I had Freckles’s box packed full of mothsand specimens, and one evening I sold some to the Bird Woman. Next morning Ifound a note telling me it wasn’t safe to go inside the swamp. That sort ofscared me. I think I’ll go alone, rather than miss the chance, but I’d be sohappy if you would take care of me. Then I could go anywhere I chose, becauseif I mired you could pull me out. You will take care of me, Pete?”

“Yes, I’ll take care of you,” promised Pete Corson.

“Goody!” said Elnora. “Let’s start quick! And Pete, you look at these closely,and when you are hunting or going along the road, if one dangles under yournose, you cut off the little twig and save it for me, will you?”

“Yes, I’ll save you all I see,” promised Pete. He pushed back his hat andfollowed Elnora. She plunged fearlessly among bushes, over underbrush, andacross dead logs. One minute she was crying wildly, that here was a big one,the next she was reaching for a limb above her head or on her knees overturningdead leaves under a hickory or oak tree, or working aside black muck with herbare hands as she searched for buried pupae cases. For the first hour Pete bentback bushes and followed, carrying what Elnora discovered. Then he found one.

“Is this the kind of thing you are looking for?” he asked bashfully, as hepresented a wild cherry twig.

“Oh Pete, that’s a Promethea! I didn’t even hope to find one.”

“What’s the bird like?” asked Pete.

“Almost black wings,” said Elnora, “with clay-coloured edges, and the mostwonderful wine-coloured flush over the under side if it’s a male, and strongerwine above and below if it’s a female. Oh, aren’t I happy!”

“How would it do to make what you have into a bunch that we could leave here,and come back for them?”

“That would be all right.”

Relieved of his load Pete began work. First, he narrowly examined the cocoonsElnora had found. He questioned her as to what other kinds would be like. Hebegan to use the eyes of a trained woodman and hunter in her behalf. He sawseveral so easily, and moved through the forest so softly, that Elnora forgotthe moths in watching him. Presently she was carrying the specimens, and he wasmaking the trips of investigation to see which was a cocoon and which a curledleaf, or he was on his knees digging around stumps. As he worked he kept askingquestions. What kind of logs were best to look beside, what trees were pupaecases most likely to be under; on what bushes did caterpillars spin mostfrequently? Time passed, as it always does when one’s occupation is absorbing.

When the Sintons took Mrs. Comstock home, they stopped to see Elnora. She wasnot there. Mrs. Comstock called at the edge of her woods and received no reply.Then Wesley turned and drove back to the Limberlost. He left Margaret and Mrs.Comstock holding the team and entertaining Billy, while he entered the swamp.

Elnora and Pete had made a wide trail behind them. Before Sinton had thought ofcalling, he heard voices and approached with some caution. Soon he saw Elnora,her flushed face beaming as she bent with an armload of twigs and branches andtalked to a kneeling man.

“Now go cautiously!” she was saying. “I am just sure we will find an Imperialishere. It’s their very kind of a place. There! What did I tell you! Isn’t thatsplendid? Oh, I am so glad you came with me!”

Wesley stood staring in speechless astonishment, for the man had arisen,brushed the dirt from his hands, and held out to Elnora a small shining darkpupa case. As his face came into view Sinton almost cried out, for he was theone man of all others Wesley knew with whom he most feared for Elnora’s safety.She had him on his knees digging pupae cases for her from the swamp.

“Elnora!” called Sinton. “Elnora!”

“Oh, Uncle Wesley!” cried the girl. “See what luck we’ve had! I know we have adozen and a half cocoons and we have three pupae cases. It’s much harder to getthe cases because you have to dig for them, and you can’t see where to look.But Pete is fine at it! He’s found three, and he says he will keep watch besidethe roads, and through the woods while he hunts. Isn’t that splendid of him?Uncle Wesley, there is a college over there on the western edge of the swamp.Look closely, and you can see the great dome up among the clouds.”

“I should say you have had luck,” said Wesley, striving to make his voicenatural. “But I thought you were not coming to the swamp?”

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Elnora, “but I couldn’t find many anywhere else, honest,I couldn’t, and just as soon as I came to the edge I began to see them here. Ikept my promise. I didn’t come in alone. Pete came with me. He’s so strong, heisn’t afraid of anything, and he’s perfectly splendid to locate cocoons! He’sfound half of these. Come on, Pete, it’s getting dark now, and we must go.”

They started toward the trail, Pete carrying the cocoons. He left them at thecase, while Elnora and Wesley went on to the carriage together.

“Elnora Comstock, what does this mean?” demanded her mother.

“It’s all right, one of the neighbours was with her, and she got severaldollars’ worth of stuff,” interposed Wesley.

“You oughter seen my pa,” shouted Billy. “He was ist all whited out, and helaid as still as anything. They put him away deep in the ground.”

“Billy!” breathed Margaret in a prolonged groan.

“Jimmy and Belle are going to be together in a nice place. They are coming tosee me, and Snap is right down here by the wheel. Here, Snap! My, but he’ll betickled to get something to eat! He’s ’most twisted as me. They get newclothes, and all they want to eat, too, but they’ll miss me. They couldn’t havegot along without me. I took care of them. I had a lot of things give to me’cause I was the littlest, and I always divided with them. But they won’t needme now.”

When she left the carriage Mrs. Comstock gravely shook hands with Billy.“Remember,” she said to him, “I love boys, and I love dogs. Whenever you don’thave a good time up there, take your dog and come right down and be my littleboy. We will just have loads of fun. You should hear the whistles I can make.If you aren’t treated right you come straight to me.”

Billy wagged his head sagely. “You ist bet I will!” he said.

“Mother, how could you?” asked Elnora as they walked up the path.

“How could I, missy? You better ask how couldn’t I? I just couldn’t! Not forenough to pay my road tax! Not for enough to pay the road tax, and the dredgetax, too!”

“Aunt Margaret always has been lovely to me, and I don’t think it’s fair toworry her.”

“I choose to be lovely to Billy, and let her sweat out her own worries just asshe has me, these sixteen years. There is nothing in all this world so good forpeople as taking a dose of their own medicine. The difference is that I amhonest. I just say in plain English, ‘if they don’t treat you right, come tome.’ They have only said it in actions and inferences. I want to teach MagSinton how her own doses taste, but she begins to sputter before I fairly getthe spoon to her lips. Just you wait!”

“When I think what I owe her——” began Elnora.

“Well, thank goodness, I don’t owe her anything, and so I’m perfectly free todo what I choose. Come on, and help me get supper. I’m hungry as Billy!”

Margaret Sinton rocked slowly back and forth in her chair. On her breast layBilly’s red head, one hand clutched her dress front with spasmodic grip, evenafter he was unconscious.

“You mustn’t begin that, Margaret,” said Sinton. “He’s too heavy. And it’s badfor him. He’s better off to lie down and go to sleep alone.”

“He’s very light, Wesley. He jumps and quivers so. He has to be stronger thanhe is now, before he will sleep soundly.”

CHAPTER IX

WHEREIN ELNORA DISCOVERS A VIOLIN, AND BILLY DISCIPLINES MARGARET

Elnora missed the little figure at the bridge the following morning. She slowlywalked up the street and turned in at the wide entrance to the school grounds.She scarcely could comprehend that only a week ago she had gone therefriendless, alone, and so sick at heart that she was physically ill. To-day shehad decent clothing, books, friends, and her mind was at ease to work on herstudies.

As she approached home that night the girl paused in amazement. Her mother hadcompany, and she was laughing. Elnora entered the kitchen softly and peepedinto the sitting-room. Mrs. Comstock sat in her chair holding a book and everyfew seconds a soft chuckle broke into a real laugh. Mark Twain was doing hiswork; while Mrs. Comstock was not lacking in a sense of humour. Elnora enteredthe room before her mother saw her. Mrs. Comstock looked up with flushed face.

“Where did you get this?” she demanded.

“I bought it,” said Elnora.

“Bought it! With all the taxes due!”

“I paid for it out of my Indian money, mother,” said Elnora. “I couldn’t bearto spend so much on myself and nothing at all on you. I was afraid to buy thedress I should have liked to, and I thought the book would be company, while Iwas gone. I haven’t read it, but I do hope it’s good.”

“Good! It’s the biggest piece of foolishness I have read in all my life. I’velaughed all day, ever since I found it. I had a notion to go out and read someof it to the cows and see if they wouldn’t laugh.”

“If it made you laugh, it’s a wise book,” said Elnora.

“Wise!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You can stake your life it’s a wise book. Ittakes the smartest man there is to do this kind of fooling,” and she beganlaughing again.

Elnora, highly satisfied with her purchase, went to her room and put on herworking clothes. Thereafter she made a point of bringing a book that shethought would interest her mother, from the library every week, and leaving iton the sitting-room table. Each night she carried home at least two schoolbooks and studied until she had mastered the points of her lessons. She did hershare of the work faithfully, and every available minute she was in the fieldssearching for cocoons, for the moths promised to become her largest source ofincome.

She gathered baskets of nests, flowers, mosses, insects, and all sorts ofnatural history specimens and sold them to the grade teachers. At first shetried to tell these instructors what to teach their pupils about the specimens;but recognizing how much more she knew than they, one after another begged herto study at home, and use her spare hours in school to exhibit and explainnature subjects to their pupils. Elnora loved the work, and she needed themoney, for every few days some matter of expense arose that she had notexpected.

From the first week she had been received and invited with the crowd of girlsin her class, and it was their custom in passing through the business part ofthe city to stop at the confectioners’ and take turns in treating to expensivecandies, ice cream sodas, hot chocolate, or whatever they fancied. When firstElnora was asked she accepted without understanding. The second time she wentbecause she seldom had tasted these things, and they were so delicious shecould not resist. After that she went because she knew all about it, and haddecided to go.

She had spent half an hour on the log beside the trail in deep thought and hadarrived at her conclusions. She worked harder than usual for the next week, butshe seemed to thrive on work. It was October and the red leaves were fallingwhen her first time came to treat. As the crowd flocked down the broad walkthat night Elnora called, “Girls, it’s my treat to-night! Come on!”

She led the way through the city to the grocery they patronized when they had asmall spread, and entering came out with a basket, which she carried to thebridge on her home road. There she arranged the girls in two rows on the cementabutments and opening her basket she gravely offered each girl an exquisitelittle basket of bark, lined with red leaves, in one end of which nestled ajuicy big red apple and in the other a spicy doughnut not an hour from MargaretSinton’s frying basket.

Another time she offered big balls of popped corn stuck together with maplesugar, and liberally sprinkled with beechnut kernels. Again it was hickory-nutkernels glazed with sugar, another time maple candy, and once a basket of warmpumpkin pies. She never made any apology, or offered any excuse. She simplygave what she could afford, and the change was as welcome to those city girlsaccustomed to sodas and French candy, as were these same things to Elnorasurfeited on popcorn and pie. In her room was a little slip containing a recordof the number of weeks in the school year, the times it would be her turn totreat and the dates on which such occasions would fall, with a number ofsuggestions beside each. Once the girls almost fought over a basket lined withyellow leaves, and filled with fat, very ripe red haws. In late October therewas a riot over one which was lined with red leaves and contained big fragrantpawpaws frost-bitten to a perfect degree. Then hazel nuts were ripe, and oncethey served. One day Elnora at her wits’ end, explained to her mother that thegirls had given her things and she wanted to treat them. Mrs. Comstock, withcharacteristic stubbornness, had said she would leave a basket at the groceryfor her, but firmly declined to say what would be in it. All day Elnorastruggled to keep her mind on her books. For hours she wavered in tenseuncertainty. What would her mother do? Should she take the girls to theconfectioner’s that night or risk the basket? Mrs. Comstock could makedelicious things to eat, but would she?

As they left the building Elnora made a final rapid mental calculation. Shecould not see her way clear to a decent treat for ten people for less than twodollars and if the basket proved to be nice, then the money would be wasted.She decided to risk it. As they went to the bridge the girls were betting onwhat the treat would be, and crowding near Elnora like spoiled small children.Elnora set down the basket.

“Girls,” she said, “I don’t know what this is myself, so all of us are going tobe surprised. Here goes!”

She lifted the cover and perfumes from the land of spices rolled up. In one endof the basket lay ten enormous sugar cakes the tops of which had been liberallydotted with circles cut from stick candy. The candy had melted in baking andmade small transparent wells of waxy sweetness and in the centre of each cakewas a fat turtle made from a raisin with cloves for head and feet. Theremainder of the basket was filled with big spiced pears that could be held bytheir stems while they were eaten. The girls shrieked and attacked the cookies,and of all the treats Elnora offered perhaps none was quite so long rememberedas that.

When Elnora took her basket, placed her books in it, and started home, all thegirls went with her as far as the fence where she crossed the field to theswamp. At parting they kissed her good-bye. Elnora was a happy girl as shehurried home to thank her mother. She was happy over her books that night, andhappy all the way to school the following morning.

When the music swelled from the orchestra her heart almost broke with throbbingjoy. For music always had affected her strangely, and since she had beencomfortable enough in her surroundings to notice things, she had listened toevery note to find what it was that literally hurt her heart, and at last sheknew. It was the talking of the violins. They were human voices, and they spokea language Elnora understood. It seemed to her that she must climb up on thestage, take the instruments from the fingers of the players and make them speakwhat was in her heart.

That night she said to her mother, “I am perfectly crazy for a violin. I amsure I could play one, sure as I live. Did any one——” Elnora nevercompleted that sentence.

“Hush!” thundered Mrs. Comstock. “Be quiet! Never mention those things beforeme again—never as long as you live! I loathe them! They are a snare ofthe very devil himself! They were made to lure men and women from their homesand their honour. If ever I see you with one in your fingers I will smash it inpieces.”

Naturally Elnora hushed, but she thought of nothing else after she had finishedher lessons. At last there came a day when for some reason the leader of theorchestra left his violin on the grand piano. That morning Elnora made herfirst mistake in algebra. At noon, as soon as the building was empty, sheslipped into the auditorium, found the side door which led to the stage, andgoing through the musicians’ entrance she took the violin. She carried it backinto the little side room where the orchestra assembled, closed all the doors,opened the case and lifted out the instrument.

She laid it on her breast, dropped her chin on it and drew the bow softlyacross the strings. One after another she tested the open notes. Gradually herstroke ceased to tremble and she drew the bow firmly. Then her fingers began tofall and softly, slowly she searched up and down those strings for sounds sheknew. Standing in the middle of the floor, she tried over and over. It seemedscarcely a minute before the hall was filled with the sound of hurrying feet,and she was forced to put away the violin and go to her classes. The next dayshe prayed that the violin would be left again, but her petition was notanswered. That night when she returned from the school she made an excuse to godown to see Billy. He was engaged in hulling walnuts by driving them throughholes in a board. His hands were protected by a pair of Margaret’s old gloves,but he had speckled his face generously. He appeared well, and greeted Elnorahilariously.

“Me an’ the squirrels are laying up our winter stores,” he shouted. “Cos thecold is coming, an’ the snow an’ if we have any nuts we have to fix ’em now.But I’m ahead, cos Uncle Wesley made me this board, and I can hull a big pilewhile the old squirrel does only ist one with his teeth.”

Elnora picked him up and kissed him. “Billy, are you happy?” she asked.

“Yes, and so’s Snap,” answered Billy. “You ought to see him make the dirt flywhen he gets after a chipmunk. I bet you he could dig up pa, if anybody wantedhim to.”

“Billy!” gasped Margaret as she came out to them.

“Well, me and Snap don’t want him up, and I bet you Jimmy and Belle don’t,either. I ain’t been twisty inside once since I been here, and I don’t want togo away, and Snap don’t, either. He told me so.”

“Billy! That is not true. Dogs can’t talk,” cautioned Margaret.

“Then what makes you open the door when he asks you to?” demanded Billy.

“Scratching and whining isn’t talking.”

“Anyway, it’s the best Snap can talk, and you get up and do things he wantsdone. Chipmunks can talk too. You ought to hear them damn things holler whenSnap gets them!”

“Billy! When you want a cooky for supper and I don’t give it to you it isbecause you said a wrong word.”

“Well, for——” Billy clapped his hand over his mouth and stained hisface in swipes. “Well, for—anything! Did I go an’ forget again! Thecookies will get all hard, won’t they? I bet you ten dollars I don’t say thatany more.”

He espied Wesley and ran to show him a walnut too big to go through the holes,and Elnora and Margaret entered the house.

They talked of many things for a time and then Elnora said suddenly: “AuntMargaret, I like music.”

“I’ve noticed that in you all your life,” answered Margaret.

“If dogs can’t talk, I can make a violin talk,” announced Elnora, and then inamazement watched the face of Margaret Sinton grow pale.

“A violin!” she wavered. “Where did you get a violin?”

“They fairly seemed to speak to me in the orchestra. One day the conductor lefthis in the auditorium, and I took it, and Aunt Margaret, I can make it do thewind in the swamp, the birds, and the animals. I can make any sound I everheard on it. If I had a chance to practise a little, I could make it do theorchestra music, too. I don’t know how I know, but I do.”

“Did—did you ever mention it to your mother?” faltered Margaret.

“Yes, and she seems prejudiced against them. But oh, Aunt Margaret, I neverfelt so about anything, not even going to school. I just feel as if I’d die ifI didn’t have one. I could keep it at school, and practise at noon a wholehour. Soon they’d ask me to play in the orchestra. I could keep it in the caseand practise in the woods in summer. You’d let me play over here Sunday. Oh,Aunt Margaret, what does one cost? Would it be wicked for me to take of mymoney, and buy a very cheap one? I could play on the least expensive one made.”

“Oh, no you couldn’t! A cheap machine makes cheap music. You got to have a finefiddle to make it sing. But there’s no sense in your buying one. There isn’t adecent reason on earth why you shouldn’t have your fa——”

“My father’s!” cried Elnora. She caught Margaret Sinton by the arm. “My fatherhad a violin! He played it. That’s why I can! Where is it! Is it in our house?Is it in mother’s room?”

“Elnora!” panted Margaret. “Your mother will kill me! She always hated it.”

“Mother dearly loves music,” said Elnora.

“Not when it took the man she loved away from her to make it!”

“Where is my father’s violin?”

“Elnora!”

“I’ve never seen a picture of my father. I’ve never heard his name mentioned.I’ve never had a scrap that belonged to him. Was he my father, or am I acharity child like Billy, and so she hates me?”

“She has good pictures of him. Seems she just can’t bear to hear him talkedabout. Of course, he was your father. They lived right there when you wereborn. She doesn’t dislike you; she merely tries to make herself think she does.There’s no sense in the world in you not having his violin. I’ve a greatnotion——”

“Has mother got it?”

“No. I’ve never heard her mention it. It was not at home when he—when hedied.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Yes. I’m the only person on earth who does, except the one who has it.”

“Who is that?”

“I can’t tell you, but I will see if they have it yet, and get it if I can. Butif your mother finds it out she will never forgive me.”

“I can’t help it,” said Elnora. “I want that violin.”

“I’ll go to-morrow, and see if it has been destroyed.”

“Destroyed! Oh, Aunt Margaret! Would any one dare?”

“I hardly think so. It was a good instrument. He played it like a master.”

“Tell me!” breathed Elnora.

“His hair was red and curled more than yours, and his eyes were blue. He wastall, slim, and the very imp of mischief. He joked and teased all day until hepicked up that violin. Then his head bent over it, and his eyes got big andearnest. He seemed to listen as if he first heard the notes, and then copiedthem. Sometimes he drew the bow trembly, like he wasn’t sure it was right, andhe might have to try again. He could almost drive you crazy when he wanted to,and no man that ever lived could make you dance as he could. He made it all upas he went. He seemed to listen for his dancing music, too. It appeared to cometo him; he’d begin to play and you had to keep time. You couldn’t be still; heloved to sweep a crowd around with that bow of his. I think it was the thingyou call inspiration. I can see him now, his handsome head bent, his cheeksred, his eyes snapping, and that bow going across the strings, and driving uslike sheep. He always kept his body swinging, and he loved to play. He oftenslighted his work shamefully, and sometimes her a little; that is why she hatedit—Elnora, what are you making me do?”

The tears were rolling down Elnora’s cheeks. “Oh, Aunt Margaret,” she sobbed.“Why haven’t you told me about him sooner? I feel as if you had given my fatherto me living, so that I could touch him. I can see him, too! Why didn’t youever tell me before? Go on! Go on!”

“I can’t, Elnora! I’m scared silly. I never meant to say anything. If I hadn’tpromised her not to talk of him to you she wouldn’t have let you come here. Shemade me swear it.”

“But why? Why? Was he a shame? Was he disgraced?”

“Maybe it was that unjust feeling that took possession of her when she couldn’thelp him from the swamp. She had to blame some one, or go crazy, so she took itout on you. At times, those first ten years, if I had talked to you, and youhad repeated anything to her, she might have struck you too hard. She was notmaster of herself. You must be patient with her, Elnora. God only knows whatshe has gone through, but I think she is a little better, lately.”

“So do I,” said Elnora. “She seems more interested in my clothes, and she fixesme such delicious lunches that the girls bring fine candies and cake and beg totrade. I gave half my lunch for a box of candy one day, brought it home to her,and told her. Since, she has wanted me to carry a market basket and treat thecrowd every day, she was so pleased. Life has been too monotonous for her. Ithink she enjoys even the little change made by my going and coming. She sitsup half the night to read the library books I bring, but she is so stubborn shewon’t even admit that she touches them. Tell me more about my father.”

“Wait until I see if I can find the violin.”

So Elnora went home in suspense, and that night she added to her prayers: “DearLord, be merciful to my father, and oh, do help Aunt Margaret to get hisviolin.”

Wesley and Billy came in to supper tired and hungry. Billy ate heartily, buthis eyes often rested on a plate of tempting cookies, and when Wesley offeredthem to the boy he reached for one. Margaret was compelled to explain thatcookies were forbidden that night.

“What!” said Wesley. “Wrong words been coming again. Oh Billy, I do wish youcould remember! I can’t sit and eat cookies before a little boy who has none.I’ll have to put mine back, too.” Billy’s face twisted in despair.

“Aw go on!” he said gruffly, but his chin was jumping, for Wesley was his idol.

“Can’t do it,” said Wesley. “It would choke me.”

Billy turned to Margaret. “You make him,” he appealed.

“He can’t, Billy,” said Margaret. “I know how he feels. You see, I can’tmyself.”

Then Billy slid from his chair, ran to the couch, buried his face in the pillowand cried heart-brokenly. Wesley hurried to the barn, and Margaret to thekitchen. When the dishes were washed Billy slipped from the back door.

Wesley piling hay into the mangers heard a sound behind him and inquired, “Thatyou, Billy?”

“Yes,” answered Billy, “and it’s all so dark you can’t see me now, isn’t it?”

“Well, mighty near,” answered Wesley.

“Then you stoop down and open your mouth.”

Sinton had shared bites of apple and nuts for weeks, for Billy had not learnedhow to eat anything without dividing with Jimmy and Belle. Since he had beenseparated from them, he shared with Wesley and Margaret. So he bent over theboy and received an instalment of cooky that almost choked him.

“Now you can eat it!” shouted Billy in delight. “It’s all dark! I can’t seewhat you’re doing at all!”

Wesley picked up the small figure and set the boy on the back of a horse tobring his face level so that they could talk as men. He never towered from hisheight above Billy, but always lifted the little soul when important matterswere to be discussed.

“Now what a dandy scheme,” he commented. “Did you and Aunt Margaret fix it up?”

“No. She ain’t had hers yet. But I got one for her. Ist as soon as you eatyours, I am going to take hers, and feed her first time I find her in thedark.”

“But Billy, where did you get the cookies? You know Aunt Margaret said you werenot to have any.”

“I ist took them,” said Billy, “I didn’t take them for me. I ist took them foryou and her.”

Wesley thought fast. In the warm darkness of the barn the horses crunched theircorn, a rat gnawed at a corner of the granary, and among the rafters the whitepigeon cooed a soft sleepy note to his dusky mate.

“Did—did—I steal?” wavered Billy.

Wesley’s big hands closed until he almost hurt the boy.

“No!” he said vehemently. “That is too big a word. You made a mistake. You weretrying to be a fine little man, but you went at it the wrong way. You only madea mistake. All of us do that, Billy. The world grows that way. When we makemistakes we can see them; that teaches us to be more careful the next time, andso we learn.”

“How wouldn’t it be a mistake?”

“If you had told Aunt Margaret what you wanted to do, and asked her for thecookies she would have given them to you.”

“But I was ’fraid she wouldn’t, and you ist had to have it.”

“Not if it was wrong for me to have it, Billy. I don’t want it that much.”

“Must I take it back?”

“You think hard, and decide yourself.”

“Lift me down,” said Billy, after a silence, “I got to put this in the jar, andtell her.”

Wesley set the boy on the floor, but as he did so he paused one second andstrained him close to his breast.

Margaret sat in her chair sewing; Billy slipped in and crept beside her. Thelittle face was lined with tragedy.

“Why Billy, whatever is the matter?” she cried as she dropped her sewing andheld out her arms. Billy stood back. He gripped his little fists tight andsquared his shoulders. “I got to be shut up in the closet,” he said.

“Oh Billy! What an unlucky day! What have you done now?”

“I stold!” gulped Billy. “He said it was ist a mistake, but it was worser ’anthat. I took something you told me I wasn’t to have.”

“Stole!” Margaret was in despair. “What, Billy?”

“Cookies!” answered Billy in equal trouble.

“Billy!” wailed Margaret. “How could you?”

“It was for him and you,” sobbed Billy. “He said he couldn’t eat it ’fore me,but out in the barn it’s all dark and I couldn’t see. I thought maybe he couldthere. Then we might put out the light and you could have yours. He said I onlymade it worse, cos I mustn’t take things, so I got to go in the closet. Willyou hold me tight a little bit first? He did.”

Margaret opened her arms and Billy rushed in and clung to her a few seconds,with all the force of his being, then he slipped to the floor and marched tothe closet. Margaret opened the door. Billy gave one glance at the light,clinched his fists and, walking inside, climbed on a box. Margaret closed thedoor.

Then she sat and listened. Was the air pure enough? Possibly he might smother.She had read something once. Was it very dark? What if there should be a mousein the closet and it should run across his foot and frighten him into spasms.Somewhere she had heard—Margaret leaned forward with tense face andlistened. Something dreadful might happen. She could bear it no longer. Shearose hurriedly and opened the door. Billy was drawn up on the box in a littleheap, and he lifted a disapproving face to her.

“Shut that door!” he said. “I ain’t been in here near long enough yet!”

CHAPTER X

WHEREIN ELNORA HAS MORE FINANCIAL TROUBLES, AND MRS. COMSTOCK AGAIN HEARSTHE SONG OF THE LIMBERLOST

The following night Elnora hurried to Sintons’. She threw open the back doorand with anxious eyes searched Margaret’s face.

“You got it!” panted Elnora. “You got it! I can see by your face that you did.Oh, give it to me!”

“Yes, I got it, honey, I got it all right, but don’t be so fast. It had beenkept in such a damp place it needed glueing, it had to have strings, and a keywas gone. I knew how much you wanted it, so I sent Wesley right to town withit. They said they could fix it good as new, but it should be varnished, andthat it would take several days for the glue to set. You can have it Saturday.”

“You found it where you thought it was? You know it’s his?”

“Yes, it was just where I thought, and it’s the same violin I’ve seen him playhundreds of times. It’s all right, only laying so long it needs fixing.”

“Oh Aunt Margaret! Can I ever wait?”

“It does seem a long time, but how could I help it? You couldn’t do anythingwith it as it was. You see, it had been hidden away in a garret, and it neededcleaning and drying to make it fit to play again. You can have it Saturdaysure. But Elnora, you’ve got to promise me that you will leave it here, or intown, and not let your mother get a hint of it. I don’t know what she’d do.”

“Uncle Wesley can bring it here until Monday. Then I will take it to school sothat I can practise at noon. Oh, I don’t know how to thank you. And there’smore than the violin for which to be thankful. You’ve given me my father. Lastnight I saw him plainly as life.”

“Elnora you were dreaming!”

“I know I was dreaming, but I saw him. I saw him so closely that a tiny whitescar at the corner of his eyebrow showed. I was just reaching out to touch himwhen he disappeared.”

“Who told you there was a scar on his forehead?”

“No one ever did in all my life. I saw it last night as he went down. And oh,Aunt Margaret! I saw what she did, and I heard his cries! No matter what shedoes, I don’t believe I ever can be angry with her again. Her heart is broken,and she can’t help it. Oh, it was terrible, but I am glad I saw it. Now, I willalways understand.”

“I don’t know what to make of that,” said Margaret. “I don’t believe in suchstuff at all, but you couldn’t make it up, for you didn’t know.”

“I only know that I played the violin last night, as he played it, and while Iplayed he came through the woods from the direction of Carneys’. It was summerand all the flowers were in bloom. He wore gray trousers and a blue shirt, hishead was bare, and his face was beautiful. I could almost touch him when hesank.”

Margaret stood perplexed. “I don’t know what to think of that!” she ejaculated.“I was next to the last person who saw him before he was drowned. It was lateon a June afternoon, and he was dressed as you describe. He was bareheadedbecause he had found a quail’s nest before the bird began to brood, and hegathered the eggs in his hat and left it in a fence corner to get on his wayhome; they found it afterward.”

“Was he coming from Carneys’?”

“He was on that side of the quagmire. Why he ever skirted it so close as to getcaught is a mystery you will have to dream out. I never could understand it.”

“Was he doing something he didn’t want my mother to know?”

“Why?”

“Because if he had been, he might have cut close the swamp so he couldn’t beseen from the garden. You know, the whole path straight to the pool where hesank can be seen from our back door. It’s firm on our side. The danger is onthe north and east. If he didn’t want mother to know, he might have tried topass on either of those sides and gone too close. Was he in a hurry?”

“Yes, he was,” said Margaret. “He had been away longer than he expected, and healmost ran when he started home.”

“And he’d left his violin somewhere that you knew, and you went and got it.I’ll wager he was going to play, and didn’t want mother to find it out!”

“It wouldn’t make any difference to you if you knew every little thing, so quitthinking about it, and just be glad you are to have what he loved best ofanything.”

“That’s true. Now I must hurry home. I am dreadfully late.”

Elnora sprang up and ran down the road, but when she approached the cabin sheclimbed the fence, crossed the open woods pasture diagonally and entered at theback garden gate. As she often came that way when she had been looking forcocoons her mother asked no questions.

Elnora lived by the minute until Saturday, when, contrary to his usual custom,Wesley went to town in the forenoon, taking her along to buy some groceries.Wesley drove straight to the music store, and asked for the violin he had leftto be mended.

In its new coat of varnish, with new keys and strings, it seemed much like anyother violin to Sinton, but to Elnora it was the most beautiful instrument evermade, and a priceless treasure. She held it in her arms, touched the stringssoftly and then she drew the bow across them in whispering measure. She had notime to think what a remarkably good bow it was for sixteen years’ disuse. Thetan leather case might have impressed her as being in fine condition also, hadshe been in a state to question anything. She did remember to ask for the billand she was gravely presented with a slip calling for four strings, one key,and a coat of varnish, total, one dollar fifty. It seemed to Elnora she nevercould put the precious instrument in the case and start home. Wesley left herin the music store where the proprietor showed her all he could about tuning,and gave her several beginners’ sheets of notes and scales. She carried theviolin in her arms as far as the crossroads at the corner of their land, thenreluctantly put it under the carriage seat.

As soon as her work was done she ran down to Sintons’ and began to play, and onMonday the violin went to school with her. She made arrangements with thesuperintendent to leave it in his office and scarcely took time for her food atnoon, she was so eager to practise. Often one of the girls asked her to stay intown all night for some lecture or entertainment. She could take the violinwith her, practise, and secure help. Her skill was so great that the leader ofthe orchestra offered to give her lessons if she would play to pay for them, soher progress was rapid in technical work. But from the first day the instrumentbecame hers, with perfect faith that she could play as her father did, shespent half her practice time in imitating the sounds of all outdoors andimprovising the songs her happy heart sang in those days.

So the first year went, and the second and third were a repetition; but thefourth was different, for that was the close of the course, ending withgraduation and all its attendant ceremonies and expenses. To Elnora theseappeared mountain high. She had hoarded every cent, thinking twice before sheparted with a penny, but teaching natural history in the grades had taken timefrom her studies in school which must be made up outside. She was aconscientious student, ranking first in most of her classes, and standing highin all branches. Her interest in her violin had grown with the years. She wentto school early and practised half an hour in the little room adjoining thestage, while the orchestra gathered. She put in a full hour at noon, andremained another half hour at night. She carried the violin to Sintons’ onSaturday and practised all the time she could there, while Margaret watched theroad to see that Mrs. Comstock was not coming. She had become so skilful thatit was a delight to hear her play music of any composer, but when she playedher own, that was joy inexpressible, for then the wind blew, the water rippled,the Limberlost sang her songs of sunshine, shadow, black storm, and whitenight.

Since her dream Elnora had regarded her mother with peculiar tenderness. Thegirl realized, in a measure, what had happened. She avoided anything thatpossibly could stir bitter memories or draw deeper a line on the hard, whiteface. This cost many sacrifices, much work, and sometimes delayed progress, butthe horror of that awful dream remained with Elnora. She worked her waycheerfully, doing all she could to interest her mother in things that happenedin school, in the city, and by carrying books that were entertaining from thepublic library.

Three years had changed Elnora from the girl of sixteen to the very verge ofwomanhood. She had grown tall, round, and her face had the loveliness ofperfect complexion, beautiful eyes and hair and an added touch from within thatmight have been called comprehension. It was a compound of self-reliance, hardknocks, heart hunger, unceasing work, and generosity. There was no form ofsuffering with which the girl could not sympathize, no work she was afraid toattempt, no subject she had investigated she did not understand. These thingscombined to produce a breadth and depth of character altogether unusual. Shewas so absorbed in her classes and her music that she had not been able togather many specimens. When she realized this and hunted assiduously, she soonfound that changing natural conditions had affected such work. Men all aroundwere clearing available land. The trees fell wherever corn would grow. Theswamp was broken by several gravel roads, dotted in places around the edge withlittle frame houses, and the machinery of oil wells; one especially low placearound the region of Freckles’s room was nearly all that remained of theoriginal. Wherever the trees fell the moisture dried, the creeks ceased toflow, the river ran low, and at times the bed was dry. With unbroken sweep thewinds of the west came, gathering force with every mile and howled and raved;threatening to tear the shingles from the roof, blowing the surface from thesoil in clouds of fine dust and rapidly changing everything. From coming inwith two or three dozen rare moths in a day, in three years’ time Elnora hadgrown to be delighted with finding two or three. Big pursy caterpillars couldnot be picked from their favourite bushes, when there were no bushes.Dragonflies would not hover over dry places, and butterflies became scarce inproportion to the flowers, while no land yields over three crops of Indianrelics.

All the time the expense of books, clothing and incidentals had continued.Elnora added to her bank account whenever she could, and drew out when she wascompelled, but she omitted the important feature of calling for a balance. So,one early spring morning in the last quarter of the fourth year, she almostfainted when she learned that her funds were gone. Commencement with its extraexpense was coming, she had no money, and very few cocoons to open in June,which would be too late. She had one collection for the Bird Woman complete toa pair of Imperialis moths, and that was her only asset. On the day she addedthese big Yellow Emperors she had been promised a check for three hundreddollars, but she would not get it until these specimens were secured. Sheremembered that she never had found an Emperor before June.

Moreover, that sum was for her first year in college. Then she would be of age,and she meant to sell enough of her share of her father’s land to finish. Sheknew her mother would oppose her bitterly in that, for Mrs. Comstock had clungto every acre and tree that belonged to her husband. Her land was almostcomplete forest where her neighbours owned cleared farms, dotted with wellsthat every hour sucked oil from beneath her holdings, but she was too absorbedin the grief she nursed to know or care. The Brushwood road and the redredgingof the big Limberlost ditch had been more than she could pay from her income,and she had trembled before the wicket as she asked the banker if she had fundsto pay it, and wondered why he laughed when he assured her she had. For Mrs.Comstock had spent no time on compounding interest, and never added the sumsshe had been depositing through nearly twenty years. Now she thought her fundswere almost gone, and every day she worried over expenses. She could see noreason in going through the forms of graduation when pupils had all in theirheads that was required to graduate. Elnora knew she had to have her diploma inorder to enter the college she wanted to attend, but she did not dare utter theword, until high school was finished, for, instead of softening as she hopedher mother had begun to do, she seemed to remain very much the same.

When the girl reached the swamp she sat on a log and thought over the expenseshe was compelled to meet. Every member of her particular set was having alarge photograph taken to exchange with the others. Elnora loved these girlsand boys, and to say she could not have their pictures to keep was more thanshe could endure. Each one would give to all the others a handsome graduationpresent. She knew they would prepare gifts for her whether she could make apresent in return or not. Then it was the custom for each graduating class togive a great entertainment and use the funds to present the school with astatue for the entrance hall. Elnora had been cast for and was practising apart in that performance. She was expected to furnish her dress and personalnecessities. She had been told that she must have a green gauze dress, andwhere was it to come from?

Every girl of the class would have three beautiful new frocks for Commencement:one for the baccalaureate sermon, another, which could be plain, for graduationexercises, and a handsome one for the banquet and ball. Elnora faced the pastthree years and wondered how she could have spent so much money and not keptaccount of it. She did not realize where it had gone. She did not know what shecould do now. She thought over the photographs, and at last settled thatquestion to her satisfaction. She studied longer over the gifts, ten handsomeones there must be, and at last decided she could arrange for them. The greendress came first. The lights would be dim in the scene, and the setting deepwoods. She could manage that. She simply could not have three dresses. Shewould have to get a very simple one for the sermon and do the best she couldfor graduation. Whatever she got for that must be made with a guimpe that couldbe taken out to make it a little more festive for the ball. But where could sheget even two pretty dresses?

The only hope she could see was to break into the collection of the man fromIndia, sell some moths, and try to replace them in June. But in her soul sheknew that never would do. No June ever brought just the things she hoped itwould. If she spent the college money she knew she could not replace it. If shedid not, the only way was to secure a room in the grades and teach a year. Herwork there had been so appreciated that Elnora felt with the recommendation sheknew she could get from the superintendent and teachers she could secure aposition. She was sure she could pass the examinations easily. She had oncegone on Saturday, taken them and secured a license for a year before she leftthe Brushwood school.

She wanted to start to college when the other girls were going. If she couldmake the first year alone, she could manage the remainder. But make that firstyear herself, she must. Instead of selling any of her collection, she must huntas she never before had hunted and find a Yellow Emperor. She had to have it,that was all. Also, she had to have those dresses. She thought of Wesley anddismissed it. She thought of the Bird Woman, and knew she could not tell her.She thought of every way in which she ever had hoped to earn money and realizedthat with the play, committee meetings, practising, and final examinations shescarcely had time to live, much less to do more than the work required for herpictures and gifts. Again Elnora was in trouble, and this time it seemed theworst of all.

It was dark when she arose and went home.

“Mother,” she said, “I have a piece of news that is decidedly not cheerful.”

“Then keep it to yourself!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I think I have enough to bearwithout a great girl like you piling trouble on me.”

“My money is all gone!” said Elnora.

“Well, did you think it would last forever? It’s been a marvel to me that it’sheld out as well as it has, the way you’ve dressed and gone.”

“I don’t think I’ve spent any that I was not compelled to,” said Elnora. “I’vedressed on just as little as I possibly could to keep going. I am heartsick. Ithought I had over fifty dollars to put me through Commencement, but they tellme it is all gone.”

“Fifty dollars! To put you through Commencement! What on earth are youproposing to do?”

“The same as the rest of them, in the very cheapest way possible.”

“And what might that be?”

Elnora omitted the photographs, the gifts and the play. She told only of thesermon, graduation exercises, and the ball.

“Well, I wouldn’t trouble myself over that,” sniffed Mrs. Comstock. “If youwant to go to a sermon, put on the dress you always use for meeting. If youneed white for the exercises wear the new dress you got last spring. As for theball, the best thing for you to do is to stay a mile away from such folly. Inmy opinion you’d best bring home your books, and quit right now. You can’t befixed like the rest of them, don’t be so foolish as to run into it. Just stayhere and let these last few days go. You can’t learn enough more to be of anyaccount.”

“But, mother,” gasped Elnora. “You don’t understand!”

“Oh, yes, I do!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I understand perfectly. So long as themoney lasted, you held up your head, and went sailing without even explaininghow you got it from the stuff you gathered. Goodness knows I couldn’t see. Butnow it’s gone, you come whining to me. What have I got? Have you forgot thatthe ditch and the road completely strapped me? I haven’t any money. There’snothing for you to do but get out of it.”

“I can’t!” said Elnora desperately. “I’ve gone on too long. It would make abreak in everything. They wouldn’t let me have my diploma!”

“What’s the difference? You’ve got the stuff in your head. I wouldn’t give arap for a scrap of paper. That don’t mean anything!”

“But I’ve worked four years for it, and I can’t enter—I ought to have itto help me get a school, when I want to teach. If I don’t have my grades toshow, people will think I quit because I couldn’t pass my examinations. I musthave my diploma!”

“Then get it!” said Mrs. Comstock.

“The only way is to graduate with the others.”

“Well, graduate if you are bound to!”

“But I can’t, unless I have things enough like the class, that I don’t look asI did that first day.”

“Well, please remember I didn’t get you into this, and I can’t get you out. Youare set on having your own way. Go on, and have it, and see how you like it!”

Elnora went upstairs and did not come down again that night, which her mothercalled pouting.

“I’ve thought all night,” said the girl at breakfast, “and I can’t see any waybut to borrow the money of Uncle Wesley and pay it back from some that the BirdWoman will owe me, when I get one more specimen. But that means that I can’t goto—that I will have to teach this winter, if I can get a city grade or acountry school.”

“Just you dare go dinging after Wesley Sinton for money,” cried Mrs. Comstock.“You won’t do any such a thing!”

“I can’t see any other way. I’ve got to have the money!”

“Quit, I tell you!”

“I can’t quit!—I’ve gone too far!”

“Well then, let me get your clothes, and you can pay me back.”

“But you said you had no money!”

“Maybe I can borrow some at the bank. Then you can return it when the BirdWoman pays you.”

“All right,” said Elnora. “I don’t need expensive things. Just some kind of apretty cheap white dress for the sermon, and a white one a little better than Ihad last summer, for Commencement and the ball. I can use the white gloves andshoes I got myself for last year, and you can get my dress made at the sameplace you did that one. They have my measurements, and do perfect work. Don’tget expensive things. It will be warm so I can go bareheaded.”

Then she started to school, but was so tired and discouraged she scarcely couldwalk. Four years’ plans going in one day! For she felt that if she did notstart to college that fall she never would. Instead of feeling relieved at hermother’s offer, she was almost too ill to go on. For the thousandth time shegroaned: “Oh, why didn’t I keep account of my money?”

After that the days passed so swiftly she scarcely had time to think, butseveral trips her mother made to town, and the assurance that everything wasall right, satisfied Elnora. She worked very hard to pass good finalexaminations and perfect herself for the play. For two days she had remained intown with the Bird Woman in order to spend more time practising and at herwork.

Often Margaret had asked about her dresses for graduation, and Elnora hadreplied that they were with a woman in the city who had made her a white dressfor last year’s Commencement when she was a junior usher, and they would be allright. So Margaret, Wesley, and Billy concerned themselves over what they wouldgive her for a present. Margaret suggested a beautiful dress. Wesley said thatwould look to every one as if she needed dresses. The thing was to get ahandsome gift like all the others would have. Billy wanted to present her afive-dollar gold piece to buy music for her violin. He was positive Elnorawould like that best of anything.

It was toward the close of the term when they drove to town one evening to tryto settle this important question. They knew Mrs. Comstock had been aloneseveral days, so they asked her to accompany them. She had been more lonelythan she would admit, filled with unusual unrest besides, and so she was gladto go. But before they had driven a mile Billy had told that they were going tobuy Elnora a graduation present, and Mrs. Comstock devoutly wished that she hadremained at home. She was prepared when Billy asked: “Aunt Kate, what are yougoing to give Elnora when she graduates?”

“Plenty to eat, a good bed to sleep in, and do all the work while shetrollops,” answered Mrs. Comstock dryly.

Billy reflected. “I guess all of them have that,” he said. “I mean a presentyou buy at the store, like Christmas?”

“It is only rich folks who buy presents at stores,” replied Mrs. Comstock. “Ican’t afford it.”

“Well, we ain’t rich,” he said, “but we are going to buy Elnora something asfine as the rest of them have if we sell a corner of the farm. Uncle Wesleysaid so.”

“A fool and his land are soon parted,” said Mrs. Comstock tersely. Wesley andBilly laughed, but Margaret did not enjoy the remark.

While they were searching the stores for something on which all of them coulddecide, and Margaret was holding Billy to keep him from saying anything beforeMrs. Comstock about the music on which he was determined, Mr. Brownlee metWesley and stopped to shake hands.

“I see your boy came out finely,” he said.

“I don’t allow any boy anywhere to be finer than Billy,” said Wesley.

“I guess you don’t allow any girl to surpass Elnora,” said Mr. Brownlee. “Shecomes home with Ellen often, and my wife and I love her. Ellen says she isgreat in her part to-night. Best thing in the whole play! Of course, you are into see it! If you haven’t reserved seats, you’d better start pretty soon, forthe high school auditorium only seats a thousand. It’s always jammed at thesehome-talent plays. All of us want to see how our children perform.”

“Why yes, of course,” said the bewildered Wesley. Then he hurried to Margaret.“Say,” he said, “there is going to be a play at the high school to-night; andElnora is in it. Why hasn’t she told us?”

“I don’t know,” said Margaret, “but I’m going.”

“So am I,” said Billy.

“Me too!” said Wesley, “unless you think for some reason she doesn’t want us.Looks like she would have told us if she had. I’m going to ask her mother.”

“Yes, that’s what’s she’s been staying in town for,” said Mrs. Comstock. “It’ssome sort of a swindle to raise money for her class to buy some silly thing tostick up in the school house hall to remember them by. I don’t know whetherit’s now or next week, but there’s something of the kind to be done.”

“Well, it’s to-night,” said Wesley, “and we are going. It’s my treat, and we’vegot to hurry or we won’t get in. There are reserved seats, and we have none, soit’s the gallery for us, but I don’t care so I get to take one good peep atElnora.”

“S’pose she plays?” whispered Margaret in his ear.

“Aw, tush! She couldn’t!” said Wesley.

“Well, she’s been doing it three years in the orchestra, and working like aslave at it.”

“Oh, well that’s different. She’s in the play to-night. Brownlee told me so.Come on, quick! We’ll drive and hitch closest place we can find to thebuilding.”

Margaret went in the excitement of the moment, but she was troubled.

When they reached the building Wesley tied the team to a railing and Billysprang out to help Margaret. Mrs. Comstock sat still.

“Come on, Kate,” said Wesley, reaching his hand.

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Mrs. Comstock, settling comfortably back againstthe cushions.

All of them begged and pleaded, but it was no use. Not an inch would Mrs.Comstock budge. The night was warm and the carriage comfortable, the horseswere securely hitched. She did not care to see what idiotic thing a pack ofschool children were doing, she would wait until the Sintons returned. Wesleytold her it might be two hours, and she said she did not care if it were four,so they left her.

“Did you ever see such——?”

“Cookies!” cried Billy.

“Such blamed stubbornness in all your life?” demanded Wesley. “Won’t come tosee as fine a girl as Elnora in a stage performance. Why, I wouldn’t miss itfor fifty dollars!

“I think it’s a blessing she didn’t,” said Margaret placidly. “I beggedunusually hard so she wouldn’t. I’m scared of my life for fear Elnora willplay.”

They found seats near the door where they could see fairly well. Billy stood atthe back of the hall and had a good view. By and by, a great volume of soundwelled from the orchestra, but Elnora was not playing.

“Told you so!” said Sinton. “Got a notion to go out and see if Kate won’t comenow. She can take my seat, and I’ll stand with Billy.”

“You sit still!” said Margaret emphatically. “This is not over yet.”

So Wesley remained in his seat. The play opened and progressed very much as allhigh school plays have gone for the past fifty years. But Elnora did not appearin any of the scenes.

Out in the warm summer night a sour, grim woman nursed an aching heart andtried to justify herself. The effort irritated her intensely. She felt that shecould not afford the things that were being done. The old fear of losing theland that she and Robert Comstock had purchased and started clearing was strongupon her. She was thinking of him, how she needed him, when the orchestra musicpoured from the open windows near her. Mrs. Comstock endured it as long as shecould, and then slipped from the carriage and fled down the street.

She did not know how far she went or how long she stayed, but everything wasstill, save an occasional raised voice when she wandered back. She stoodlooking at the building. Slowly she entered the wide gates and followed up thewalk. Elnora had been coming here for almost four years. When Mrs. Comstockreached the door she looked inside. The wide hall was lighted with electricity,and the statuary and the decorations of the walls did not seem like pieces offoolishness. The marble appeared pure, white, and the big pictures mostinteresting. She walked the length of the hall and slowly read the titles ofthe statues and the names of the pupils who had donated them. She speculated onwhere the piece Elnora’s class would buy could be placed to advantage.

Then she wondered if they were having a large enough audience to buy marble.She liked it better than the bronze, but it looked as if it cost more. Howwhite the broad stairway was! Elnora had been climbing those stairs for yearsand never told her they were marble. Of course, she thought they were wood.Probably the upper hall was even grander than this. She went over to thefountain, took a drink, climbed to the first landing and looked around her, andthen without thought to the second. There she came opposite the wide-open doorsand the entrance to the auditorium packed with people and a crowd standingoutside. When they noticed a tall woman with white face and hair and blackdress, one by one they stepped a little aside, so that Mrs. Comstock could seethe stage. It was covered with curtains, and no one was doing anything. Just asshe turned to go a sound so faint that every one leaned forward and listened,drifted down the auditorium. It was difficult to tell just what it was; afterone instant half the audience looked toward the windows, for it seemed only abreath of wind rustling freshly opened leaves; merely a hint of s