[Postprocessor's Note:

*renumbered chapters beginning with chapter 24: original text had twochapters numbered 23

*changed Fenning to Fenner 3 times (11 instances of Fenner) on pages120, 122, and 133 of the original. ]

THE CITY OF FIRE

BY

GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL

THE CITY OF FIRE

I

Sabbath Valley lay like a green jewel cupped in the hand of thesurrounding mountains with the morning sun serene upon it picking outthe clean smooth streets, the white houses with their green blinds, themaples with their clear cut leaves, the cosy brick school house widewinged and friendly, the vine clad stone church, and the little stonebungalow with low spreading roof that was the parsonage. The word mansehad not yet reached the atmosphere. There were no affectations inSabbath Valley. 

Billy Gaston, two miles away and a few degrees up the mountain side, standing on the little station platform at Pleasant View, waiting forthe morning train looked down upon the beauty at his feet and felt itsloveliness blindly. A passing thrill of wonder and devotion fledthrough his fourteen-year-old soul as he regarded it idly. Down therewas home and all his interests and loyalty. His eyes dweltaffectionately on the pointing spire and bell tower. He loved thosebells, and the one who played them, and under their swelling tones hadbeen awakened new thoughts and lofty purposes. He knew they were lofty. He was not yet altogether sure that they were his, but they were therein his mind for him to think about, and there was a strange awesomelure about their contemplation. 

Down the platform was the new freight agent, a thickset, rubber-shodindividual with a projecting lower jaw and a lowering countenance. Hehad lately arrived to assist the regular station agent, who lived in abit of a shack up the mountain and was a thin sallow creature with sadeyes and no muscles. Pleasant View was absolutely what it stated, apleasant view and nothing else. The station was a well weathered boxthat blended into the mountain side unnoticeably, and did not spoil theview. The agent's cabin was hidden by the trees and did not count. ButPleasant View was important as a station because it stood at theintersection of two lines of thread like tracks that slipped among themountains in different directions; one winding among the trees andabout a clear mountain lake, carried guests for the summer to and fro, and great quantities of baggage and freight from afar; the othertravelled through long tunnels to the world beyond and linked greatcities like jewels on a chain. There were heavy bales and boxes andmany trunks to be shifted and it was obvious that the sallow stationagent could not do it all. The heavy one had been sent to help himthrough the rush season. 

In five minutes more the train would come from around the mountain andbring a swarm of ladies and children for the Hotel at the Lake. Theywould have to be helped off with all their luggage, and on again to theLake train, which would back up two minutes later. This was Billy'sharvest time. He could sometimes make as much as fifty cents or evenseventy-five if he struck a generous party, just being generallyuseful, carrying bags and marshalling babies. It was important thatBilly should earn something for it was Saturday and the biggest ballgame of the season came off at Monopoly that afternoon. Billy couldmanage the getting there, it was only ten miles away, but money tospend when he arrived was more than a necessity. Saturday was always agood day at the station. 

Billy had slipped into the landscape unseen. His rusty, trusty oldbicycle was parked in a thick huckleberry growth just below the gradeof the tracks, and Billy himself stood in the shelter of severalimmense packing boxes piled close to the station. It was a niche justbig enough for his wiry young length with the open station window closeat his ear. From either end of the platform he was hidden, which was asit should be until he got ready to arrive with the incoming train. 

The regular station agent was busy checking a high pile of trunks thathad come down on the early Lake train from the Hotel and had to betransferred to the New York train. He was on the other side of thestation and some distance down the platform. 

Beyond the packing boxes the heavy one worked with brush and paintmarking some barrels. If Billy applied an eye to a crack in his hidingplace he could watch every stroke of the fat black brush, and see themuscles in the swarthy cheeks move as the man mouthed a big blackcigar. But Billy was not interested in the new freight agent, andremained in his retreat, watching the brilliant sunshine shimmer overthe blue-green haze of spruce and pine that furred the way down to thevalley. He basked in it like a cat blinking its content. The rails werebeginning to hum softly, and it would not be long till the trainarrived. 

Suddenly Billy was aware of a shadow looming. 

The heavy one had laid down his brush and was stealing swiftly, furtively to the door of the station with a weather eye to the agent onhis knees beside a big trunk writing something on a check. Billy drewback like a turtle to his shell and listened. The rail was beginning tosing decidedly now and the telephone inside the grated window suddenlysat up a furious ringing. Billy's eye came round the corner of thewindow, scanned the empty platform, glimpsed the office desk inside andthe weighty figure holding the receiver, then vanished enough to be outof sight, leaving only a wide curious ear to listen:

"That you Sam? Yep. Nobody about. Train's coming. Hustle up. Anythingdoing? You _don't say_! Some big guy? _Say_, that's good newsat last! Get on the other wire and hold it. I'll come as quick as thetrain's gone. S'long!"

Billy cocked a curious eye like a flash into the window and back again, ducking behind the boxes just in time to miss the heavy one coming outwith an excited air, and a feverish eye up the track where the trainwas coming into view around the curve. 

In a moment all was stir and confusion, seven women wanting attentionat once, and imperious men of the world crying out against railroadregulations. Billy hustled everywhere, transferring bags and suit caseswith incredible rapidity to the other train, which arrived promptly, securing a double seat for the fat woman with the canary, and thepoodle in a big basket, depositing the baggage of a pretty lady on theshady side, making himself generally useful to the opulent looking manwith the jewelled rings; and back again for another lot. A whole dollarand fifteen cents jingled in his grimy pocket as the trains finallymoved off in their separate directions and the peace of Pleasant Viewsettled down monotonously once more. 

Billy gave a hurried glance about him. The station agent was busy withanother batch of trunks, but the heavy one was nowhere to be seen. Hegave a quick glance through the grated window where the telegraphinstrument was clicking away sleepily, but no one was there. Then astir among the pines below the track attracted his attention, andstepping to the edge of the bank he caught a glimpse of a broad dustyback lumbering hurriedly down among the branches. 

With a flirt of his eye back to the absorbed station agent Billy wasoff down the mountain after the heavy one, walking stealthily as anycat, pausing in alert attention, listening, peering out eerily wheneverhe came to a break in the undergrowth. Like a young mole burrowing hewove his way under branches the larger man must have turned aside, andso his going was as silent as the air. Now and then he could hear thecrash of a broken branch or the crackle of a twig, or the rolling of astone set free by a heavy foot, but he went on like a cat, like alittle wood shadow, till suddenly he felt he was almost upon his prey. Then he paused and listened. 

The man was kneeling just below him. He could hear the laboredbreathing. There was a curious sound of metal and wood, of a keyturning in a lock. Billy drew himself softly into a group of cypressand held his breath. Softly he parted the foliage and peered. The manwas down upon his knees before a rough box, holding something in hishand which he put to his ear. Billy could not quite see what it was. And now the man began to talk into the box. Billy ducked and listened:

"Hello, Sam! You there! Couldn't come any quicker, lots of passengers. Lots of freight. What's doing, anyhow?"

Billy could hear a faint murmur of words, now and then one gutteralburst out and became distinct, and gradually enough words piecedthemselves together to become intelligible. 

"... Rich guy! High power machine ... Great catch ... Tonight!... Got abet on to get there by sunrise.... Can't miss him!"

Billy lay there puzzled. It sounded shady, but what was the lineanyway? Then the man spoke. 

"Sounds easy Sammy, but how we goin' to kidnap a man in a high powermachine? Wreck it of course, but he might get killed and where would bethe reward? Besides, he's likely to be a good shot--"

The voice from the ground again growing clearer:

"Put something across the road that he'll have to get out and move, like a fallen tree, or one of you lie in the road beside a car as ifyou was hurt. I'm sending Shorty and Link. They'll get there abouteight o'clock. Beat him to it by an hour anyway, maybe more. Now it'sup to you to look after details. Get anyone you want to help tillShorty and Link get there, and pay 'em so in case anything gets them, or they're late. I'll keep you wise from time to time how the guy getson. I've got my men on the watch along the line. "

"I'd like t' know who I'd get in this God forsaken place!" growled theheavy one, "Not a soul in miles except the agent, and _he'd_ runright out and telegraph for the State constab. Say, Sammy, who is thisguy anyway? Is there enough in it to pay for the risk? You knowkidnapping ain't any juvenile demeanor. I didn't promise no such stuffas this when I said I'd take a hand over here. Now just a common littlehold-up ain't so bad. That could happen on any lonely mountain road. But this here kidnapping, you never can tell how its going to turn out. Might be murder before you got through, especially if Link is along. _You know Link!_"

"That's all right, Pat, you needn't worry, this'll go through slick asa whistle, and a million in it if we work it right. The house is allready--you know where--and never a soul in all the world would suspect. It's far enough away and yet not too far--. You'll make enough out ofthis to retire for life if you want to Pat, and no mistake. All you'vegot to do is to handle it right, and you know your business. "

"Who'd you say he was?"

"Shafton, Laurence Shafton, son of the big Shafton, you know Shaftonand Gates. "

A heavy whistle blended with the whispering pines. 

"You don't say? How much family?"

"Mother living, got separate fortune in her own right. Father justdotes on him. Uncle has a big estate on Long Island, plenty moremillions there. I think a million is real modest in us to ask, don'tyou?"

"Where's he goin' to? What makes you think he'll come this way 'steadof the valley road?"

"'Cause he's just started, got all the directions for the way, wentover it carefully with his valet. Valet gave me the tip you understand, and has to be in on the rake-off. It's his part to keep close to thefamily, see? Guy's goin' down to Beechwood to a house party, got a beton that he'll make it before daylight. He's bound to pass your mountainsoon after midnight, see? Are you goin' to do your part, or ain't you?Or have I got to get a new agent down there? And say! I want a messageon this wire as soon as the job is completed. Now, you understand? Canyou pull it off?"

It was some time after the key clicked in the lock and the bulky formof the freight agent lumbered up through the pines again before Billystirred. Then he wriggled around through the undergrowth until he foundhimself in front of the innocent looking little box covered over withdried grass and branches. He examined it all very carefully, priedunderneath with his jack knife, discovered the spot where the wireconnected, speculated as to where it tapped the main line, prospected abit about the place and then on hands and knees wormed himself throughthe thick growth of the mountain till he came out to the huckleberryclump, and recovering his bicycle walked innocently up to the stationas if it were the first time that day and enquired of the surly freightman whether a box had come for his mother. 

In the first place Billy hadn't any mother, only an aunt who went outwashing and had hard times to keep a decent place for Billy to sleepand eat, and she never had a box come by freight in her life. But theburly one did not know that. Just what Billy Gaston did it for, perhapshe did not quite know himself, save that the lure of hanging round amystery was always great. Moreover it gave him deep joy to know that heknew something about this man that the man did not know he knew. It wasalways good to know things. It was always wise to keep your mouth shutabout them when you knew them. Those were the two most prominent planksin Billy Gaston's present platform and he stood upon them firmly. 

The burly one gave Billy a brief and gruff negative to his query andwent on painting barrel labels. He was thinking of other matters, butBilly still hung around. He had a hunch that he might be going to makemerchandise in some way of the knowledge that he had gained, so he hungaround, silently, observantly, leaning on old rusty-trusty. 

The man looked up and frowned suspiciously:

"I told you NO!" he snapped threateningly, "What you standin' therefor?"

Billy regarded him amusedly as from a superior height. 

"Don't happen to know of any odd jobs I could get, " he finallycondescended. 

"Where would you expect a job around this dump?" sneered the man withan eloquent wave toward the majestic mountain, "Busy little hive righthere now, ain't it?"

He subsided and Billy, slowly, thoughtfully, mounted his wheel and rodearound the station, with the air of one who enjoys the scenery. Thethird time he rounded the curve by the freight agent the man looked upwith a speculative squint and eyed the boy. The fourth time he calledout, straightening up and laying down his brush. 

"Say, Kid, do you know how to keep yer mouth shut?"

The boy regarded him with infinite contempt. 

"Well, that depends!" he said at last. "If anybody'd make it worth mywhile. "

The man looked at him narrowly, the tone was at once so casual and yetso full of possible meaning. The keenest searching revealed nothing inthe immobile face of the boy. A cunning grew in the eyes of the man. 

"How would a five look to you?"

"Not enough, " said the boy promptly, "I need twenty-five. "

"Well, ten then. "

"The boy rode off down the platform and circled the station again whilethe man stood puzzled, half troubled, and watched him:

"I'll make it fifteen. What you want, the earth with a gold fencearound it?"

"I said I needed twenty-five, " said Billy doggedly, lowering his eyesto cover the glitter of coming triumph. 

The thick one stood squinting off at the distant mountain thoughtfully, then he turned and eyed Billy again. 

"How'm I gonta know you're efficient?" he challenged. 

"Guess you'c'n take me er leave me, " came back the boy quickly. "Courseif you've got plenty help--"

The man gave him a quick bitter glance. The kid was sharp. He knewthere was no one else. Besides, how much had he overheard? Had he beenaround when the station telephone rang? Kids like that were deep. Youcould always count on them to do a thing well if they undertook it. 

"Well, mebbe I'll try you. You gotta be on hand t'night at eighto'clock sharp. It's mebbe an all night job, but you may be through bymidnight. "

"What doing?"

"Nothing much. Just lay in the road with your wheel by your side andact like you had a fall an' was hurt. I wanta stop a man who's in ahurry, see?"

Billy regarded him coolly. 

"Any shooting?"

"Oh, no!" said the other, "Just a little evening up of cash. You seethat man's got some money that oughtta be mine by good rights, and Iwantta get it. "

"_I_ see!" said Billy nonchalantly, "An' whatcha gonta do if hedon't come across?"

The man gave him a scared look. 

"Oh, nothin' sinful son; just give him a rest fer a few days where hewon't see his friends, until he gets ready to see it the way I do. "

"H'm!" said Billy narrowing his gray eyes to two slits. "An' how muchdid ya say ya paid down?"

The man looked up angrily. 

"I don't say I pay nothing down. If you do the work right you get thecash t'night, a round twenty-five, and it's twenty bucks more'n youdeserve. Why off in this deserted place you ought ta be glad to gettwenty-five cents fer doin' nothin' but lay in the road. "

The boy with one foot on the pedal mounted sideways and slid along theplatform slowly, indifferently. 

"Guess I gotta date t'night, " he called over his shoulder as he swungthe other leg over the cross bar. 

The heavy man made a dive after him and caught him by the arm. 

"Look here, Kid, I ain't in no mood to be toyed with, " he said gruffly, "You said you wanted a job an' I'm being square with you. Just to showI'm being square here's five down. "

Billy looked at the ragged green bill with a slight lift of hisshoulders. 

"Make it ten down and it's a go, " he said at last with a take-it-or-leave-it air. "I hadn't oughtta let you off'n less'n half, such a shadyjob as this looks, but make it a ten an' I'll close with ya. If yadon't like it ask the station agent to help ya. I guess he wouldn'tobject. He's right here handy, too. I live off quite a piece. "

But the man had pulled out another five and was crowding the bills uponhim. He had seen a light in that boy's eye that was dangerous. What wasfive in a case of a million anyway?

Billy received the boodle as if it had been chewing gum or a soiledhandkerchief, and stuffed it indifferently into his already bulgingpocket in a crumple as if it were not worth the effort. 

"A'rright. I'll be here!" he declared, and mounting his wheel with anair of finality, sailed away down the platform, curved off the highstep with a bump into the road and coasted down the road below thetunnel toward Monopoly, leaving Sabbath Valley glistening in thesunshine off to the right. With all that money in his pocket what wasthe use of going back to Sabbath Valley for his lunch and making histrip a good two miles farther? He would beat the baseball team to it. 

The thick one stood disconsolately, his grimy cap in his hand andscratched his dusty head of curls in a troubled way. 

"Gosh!" he said wrathfully, "The little devil! Now I don't know whathe'll do. I wonder--! But what else could I do?"

II

Over in Sabbath Valley quiet sweetness brooded, broken now and again bythe bell-like sound of childish laughter here and there. The birds wereholding high carnival in the trees, and the bees humming drowsy littletunes to pretend they were not working. 

Most of the men were away at work, some in Monopoly or Economy, whitherthey went in the early morning in their tin Lizzies to a little storeor a country bank, or a dusty law office; some in the fields of thefertile valley; and others off behind the thick willow fringe wherelurked the home industries of tanning and canning and knitting, with aplush mill higher up the slope behind a group of alders and beeches, its ugly stone chimneys picturesque against the mountain, but doing itsbest to spoil the little stream at its feet with all colors of therainbow, at intervals dyeing its bright waters. 

The minister sat in his study with his window open across the lawnbetween the parsonage and the church, a lovely velvet view with the oldgraveyard beyond and the wooded hill behind. He was faintly aware ofthe shouting of the birds in glad carnival in the trees, and the busydroning of the bees, as he wrote an article on Modern Atheism for amagazine in the distant world; but more keenly alive to the song on thelips of his child, but lately returned from college life in one of thegreat universities for women. He smiled as he wrote, and a light camein his deep thoughtful eyes. She had gone and come, and she was stillunspoiled, mentally, physically, or spiritually. That was a great dealto have kept out of life in these days of unbelief. He had been almostafraid to hope that she would come back the same. 

In the cool sitting-room his wife was moving about, putting the housein order for the day, and he knew that on her lips also was the smileof the same content as well as if he were looking at her beloved face. 

On the front veranda Marilyn Severn swept the rugs and sang her happysong. She was glad, glad to be home again, and her soul bubbled overwith the joy of it. There was happiness in the curve of her red lips, in the softly rounded freshness of her cheek and brow, in the eyes thatheld dancing lights like stars, and in every gleaming tendril of herwonderful bright hair that burst forth from under the naive littlesweeping cap that sat on her head like a crown. She was small, lithe, graceful, and she vibrated joy, health, eagerness in every glance ofher eye, every motion of her lovely hands. 

Down the street suddenly sounded a car. Not the rattling, cheap affairsthat were commonly used in those parts for hard work and dress affairs, with a tramp snuffle and bark as they bounced along beneath the mapleslike house dogs that knew their business and made as much noise aboutit as they could; but a car with a purr like a soft petted cat by thefire, yet a power behind the purr that might have belonged to a lion ifthe need for power arose. It stole down the street like a thing of theworld, well oiled and perfect in its way, and not needing to make anyclatter about its going. The very quietness of it made the ministerlook up, sent the minister's wife to raise the shade of the sitting-roomwindow, and caused the girl to look up from her task. 

The morning flooded her face, the song was stayed, a great light cameinto her eyes. 

The man who was driving the car had the air of not expecting to stop atthe parsonage. Even when he saw the girl on the porch he held to hisway, and something hard and cold and infinitely sad settled down overhis face. It even looked as though he did not intend to recognize her, or perhaps wasn't sure whether she would recognize him. There was amoment's breathless suspense and the car slid just the fraction pastthe gate in the hedge, without a sign of stopping, only a lifting of acorrect looking straw hat that somehow seemed a bit out of place inSabbath Valley. But Lynn left no doubt in his mind whether she wouldrecognize him. She dropped her broom and sped down the, path, and thecar came to an abrupt halt, only a hair's breadth past the gate, --butstill--that hair's breadth. 

"Oh, Mark, I'm so glad to see you!" she cried genuinely with her handout in welcome, "They said you were not at home. "

The boy's voice--he had been a boy when she left him, though now helooked strangely hard and old like a man of the world--was husky as heanswered gravely, swinging himself down on the walk beside her:

"I just got in late last night. How are you Lynn? You're looking fine. "

He took her offered hand, and clasped it for a brief instant in a warmstrong pressure, but dropped it again and there was a quick coldwithdrawing of his eyes that she did not understand. The old MarkCarter would never have looked at her coolly, impersonally like that. What was it, was he shy of her after the long separation? Four yearswas a long time, of course, but there had been occasional letters. Hehad always been away when she was at home, and she had been home verylittle between her school years. There had been summer sessions twiceand once father and mother had come to her and they had taken awonderful trip together. But always there had seemed to be Mark Carter, her old friend and playmate, in the background. Now, suddenly he seemedto be removed to indefinite distances. It was as if she were looking ata picture that purported to be her friend, yet seemed a travesty, likeone wearing a mask. She stood in the sunlight looking at him, in herquaint little cap and a long white enveloping house apron, and sheseemed to him like a haloed saint. Something like worship shone in hiseyes, but he kept the mask down, and looked at her with the eyes of astranger while he talked, and smiled a stiff conventional smile. But alook of anguish grew in his young face, like the sorrow of somethingprimeval, such as a great rock in a desert. 

The minister had forgotten his article and was watching them throughthe window, the tall handsome youth, his head bared with the glint ofthe sun on his short cropped gold curls making one think of a youngprince, yet a prince bound under a spell and frozen in a block of ice. He was handsome as Adonis, every feature perfect, and striking in itsmanly beauty, yet there was nothing feminine about him. The ministerwas conscious of all this as he watched--this boy whom he had seen growup, and this girl of his heart. A great still question came into thefather's look as he watched. 

The minister was conscious of Lynn's mother standing in the doorwayjust behind him, although she had made no noise in entering. And atonce she knew he was aware of her presence. 

"Isn't that Mark Carter?" she asked just above a breath. 

He nodded. 

"And she doesn't know! You haven't told her?"

The minister shook his head. 

"He will tell her. See, he is telling her now!"

The mother drew a shade nearer. 

"But how do you know? See, she is doing the talking. You think he willtell her? _What_ will he tell her, Graham?"

"Oh, he will not tell her in words, but every atom of his being istelling her now. Can't you see? He is telling her that he is no longerworthy to be her equal. He is telling her that something has gonewrong. "

"Graham, what do you _think_ is the matter with him? Do you thinkhe is--BAD?" She lifted frightened eyes to his as she dropped into herlow chair that always stood conveniently near his desk. 

A wordless sorrow overspread the minister's face, yet there wassomething valiant in his eyes. 

"No, I can't think that. I must believe in him in spite of everything. It looks to me somehow as if he was trying to be bad and couldn't. "

"Well, but--Graham, isn't that the same thing? If he wants to be?"

The minister shook his head. 

"He doesn't want to be. But he has some purpose in it. He is doingit--perhaps--well--it might be for _her_ sake you know. "

The mother looked perplexed, and hesitated, then shook her head. 

"That would be--preposterous! How could he hurt her so--if he cared. Itmust be--he does not care--!"

"He cares!" said the man. 

"Then how do you explain it?"

"I don't explain it. "

"Are you going to let it go on?"

"What can be done?"

"I'd do something. "

"No, Mary. That's something he's got to work out himself. If he isn'tbig enough to get over his pride. His self-consciousness. His--whateverhe calls it--If he isn't big enough--Then he isn't _big_ enough--!"The man sighed with a faraway patient look. The woman stirred uneasily. 

"Graham, " she said suddenly lifting her eyes in troubled question, "When your cousin Eugenie was here, you remember, she talked about itone day. She said we had no right to let Lynn become so attached to amere country boy who would grow up a boor. She said he had noeducation, no breeding, no family, and that Lynn had the right to thebest social advantages to be had in the world. She said Lynn was anatural born aristocrat, and that we had a great responsibilitybringing up a child with a face like hers, and a mind like hers, and aninheritance like hers, in this little antiquated country place. Shesaid it was one thing for you with your culture and your fineeducation, and your years of travel and experience, to hide yourselfhere if you choose for a few years, pleasing yourself at playing withsouls and uplifting a little corner of the universe while you werewriting a great book; but it was quite another for us to allow ourgifted young daughter to know no other life. And especially she harpedon Lynn's friendship with Mark. She called him a hobbledehoy, said hismother was 'common', and that coming from a home like that, he wouldnever amount to anything or have an education. He would always becommon and loaferish, and it wouldn't make any difference if he did, hewould never be cultured no matter how much education he had. He was notin her _class_. She kept saying that over. She said a lot of thingsand always ended up with that. And finally she said that we wereperfectly crazy, both of us. That she supposed Lynn thought she waschristianizing the boy or something, but it was dangerous business, andwe ought to be warned. And Graham, _I'm afraid Mark heard it!_ Hewas just coming up on the porch as she finished and I'm almost sure heheard it!"

The eyes of the minister gave a startled flicker and then grewcomprehending. "I wondered why he gave up college after he had workedso hard to get in. "

"But Graham! Surely, if he had heard he would have wanted to show herthat she was wrong. "

"No, Mary. He is not built that way. It's his one big fault. Always tobe what he thinks people have labeled him, or to seem to be. To be thatin defiance, knowing in his heart he really isn't that at all. It's acurious psychological study. It makes me think of nothing else but whenthe Prince of the Power of the Air wanted to be God. Mark wants to be ayoung God. When he finds he's not taken that way he makes himself looklike the devil in defiance. Don't you remember, Mary, how when BobBliss broke that memorial window in the church and said it was Mark didit, how Mark stood looking, defiantly from one to another of us to seeif we would believe it, and when he found the elders were all againsthim and had begun to get ready for punishment, he lifted his fine youngshoulders, and folded his arms, and just bowed in acquiescence, as ifto say yes, he had done it? Don't you remember, Mary? He nearly brokemy heart that day, the hurt look in his eyes; the game, mistaken, little devil! He was only ten, and yet for four long months he bore theblame in the eyes of the whole village for breaking that window, tillBob told the truth and cleared him. Not because he wanted to save BobBliss, for everybody knew he was a little scamp, and needed punishment, but because he was _hurt_--hurt way down into the soul of him tothink anybody had _thought_ he would want to break the window wehad all worked so hard to buy. And he actually broke three cellarwindows in that vacant store by the post office, yes, and paid forthem, just to keep up his character and give us some reason for ourbelief against him. "

The wife with a cloud of anxiety in her eyes, and disapproval in hervoice, answered slowly:

"That's a bad trait, Graham. I can't understand it. It is somethingwrong in his nature. "

"Yes, Mary, it is sin, original sin, but it comes at him from adifferent direction from most of us, that's all. It comes throughsensitiveness. It is his reaction to a deep and mortal hurt. Some menwould be stimulated to finer action by criticism, he is stimulated todefy, and he does not know that he is trying to defy God and all thelaws of the universe. Some day he will find it out, and know that onlythrough humility can he make good. "

"But he is letting all his opportunities go by. "

"I'm not so sure. You can't tell what he may be doing out in the worldwhere he is gone. "

"But they say he is very wild. "

"They were always saying things about him when he was here, and most ofthem were not true. You and I knew him, Mary. Was there ever a fineryoung soul on earth than he with his clear true eyes, his eager tenderheart, his brave fearlessness and strength. I can not think he has soldhis soul to sin--not yet. It may be. It may be that only in the FarCountry will he realize it is God he wants and be ready to say, 'I havesinned' and 'I will arise. '"

"But Graham, I should think that just because you believe in him youcould talk to him. "

"No, Mary. I can't probe into the depths of that sensitive soul and digout his confidence. He would never give it that way. It is a matterbetween himself and God. "

"But Lynn--"

"Lynn has God too, my dear. We must not forget that. Life is not allfor this world, either. Thank God Lynn believes that!"

The mother sighed with troubled eyes, and rose. The purring of theengine was heard. Lynn would be coming in. They watched the young manswing his car out into the road and glide away like a comet with a wildsophisticated snort of his engine that sent him so far away in a flash. They watched the girl standing where he had left her, a stricken lookupon her face, and saw her turn slowly back to the house with eyesdown--troubled. The mother moved away. The father bent his head uponhis hand with closed eyes. The girl came back to her work, but the songon her lips had died. She worked silently with a far look in her eyes, trying to fathom it. 

The eyes of her father and mother followed her tenderly all that day, and it was as if the souls of the three had clasped hands, andunderstood, so mistily they smiled at one another. 

Billy Gaston, refreshed by a couple of chocolate fudge sundaes, abanana whip, and a lemon ice-cream soda, was seated on the bench withthe heroes of the day at the Monopoly baseball grounds. He wore hismost nonchalant air, chewed gum with his usual vigor, shouted himselfhoarse at the proper places, and made casual grown-up responses to thecondescension of the team, wrapping them tenderly in ancient sweaterswhen they were disabled, and watching every move of the game with apractised eye and an immobile countenance. But though to the eyes ofthe small fry on the grass at his feet he was as self-sufficient asever, somehow he kept having strange qualms, and his mind keptreverting to the swart fat face of Pat at the Junction, as it duckedbehind the cypress and talked into the crude telephone on the mountain. Somehow he couldn't forget the gloat in his eye as he spoke of the"rich guy. " More and more uneasy he grew, more sure that the expeditionto which he was pledged was not strictly "on the square. "

Not that Billy Gaston was afraid. The thrill of excitement burned alonghis veins and filled him with a fine elation whenever he thought of thegreat adventure, and he gave his pocket a protective slap where the"ten bones" still reposed intact. He felt well pleased with himself tohave made sure of those. Whatever happened he had that, and if the manwasn't on the square Pat deserved to lose that much. Not that BillyGaston meant to turn "yellow" after promising, but there was no tellingwhether the rest of the twenty-five would be forthcoming or not. Hefell to calculating its worth in terms of new sweaters and baseballbats. If worst came to worst he could threaten to expose Pat and hisscheme. 

During the first and second innings these reflections soothed his souland made him sit immovable with jaws grinding in rythmic harmony withthe day. But at the beginning of the third inning one of the boys fromhis Sunday-school class strolled by and flung himself full length onthe grass at his feet where he could see his profile just as he hadseen it on Sunday while he was listening to the story that the teacheralways told to introduce the lesson. He could see the blue of LynnSevern's eyes as she told it, and strangely enough portions of the talecame floating back in trailing mist across the dusty baseball diamondand obscured the sight of Sloppy Hedrick sliding to his base. It was atale of one, Judas, who betrayed his best Friend with a kiss. It camewith strange illogical persistence, and seemed curiously incongruouswith the sweet air of summer blowing over the hard young faces anddusty diamond. What had Judas to do with a baseball game, or with BillyGaston and what he meant to do on the mountain that night?--and earngood money--! Ah! That was it. Make good money! But who was hebetraying he would like to know? Well if it wasn't on the squareperhaps he was betraying that same _One_--Aw--Rats! He wasn'tunder anybody's thumb and Judas lived centuries ago. He wasn't doingany harm helping a man do something he wasn't supposed to know what. Hang it all! Where was Mark Carter anyway? Somehow Cart always seemedto set a fella straight. He was like Miss Lynn. He saw through thingsyou hadn't even told him about. But this was a man's affair, not awoman's. 

Of course there was another side to it. He _could_ give some ofthe money to Aunt Saxon to buy coal--instead of the sweater--well, maybe it would do both. And he _could_ give some to that fund forthe Chinese Mission, Miss Lynn was getting up in the class. He wouldstop on the way back and give her a whole dollar. He sat, chin in hand, gazing out on the field, quite satisfied with himself, and suddenlysome one back by the plate struck a fine clean ball with a click andthrew the bat with a resounding ring on the hard ground as he made fora home run. Billy started and looked keenly at the bat, for somehow thering of it as it fell sounded curiously like the tinkle of silver. Whosaid thirty pieces of silver? Billy threw a furtive look about and acold perspiration broke out on his forehead. Queer that old Bible storyhad to stick itself in. He could see the grieving in the Master's eyesas Judas gave Him that kiss. She had made the story real. She could dothat, and made the boy long somehow to make it up to that betrayedMaster, and he couldn't get away from the feeling that he was fallingshort. Of course old Pat had _said_ the man had money _belonging_ to_him_, and you had to go mostly by what folks _said_, but it did lookshady. 

The game seemed slow after that. The two captains were wrangling oversome point of rule, and the umpire was trying to pacify them both. Billy arose with well feigned languor and remarked, "Well, I gotta beatit. Guess we're gonta win all right. So long!" and lounged away to hiswheel. 

He purchased another soda at the drug store to get one of his fiveschanged into ones, one of which he stowed away in his breast pocket, while the remainder was stuffed in his trousers after the manner of aman. He bent low over his handle bars, chewing rythmically and pedaledaway rapidly in the direction of Sabbath Valley. 

III

The bells of the little stone church were playing tender melodies as heshot briskly down the maple lined street at a break neck pace, and thesun was just hovering on the rim of the mountain. The bells oftenplayed at sunset, especially Saturday evenings, when Marilyn Severn wasat home, and the village loved to hear them. Billy wouldn't have ownedit, but he loved to hear those bells play better than anything else inhis young life, and he generally managed to be around when they werebeing played. He loved to watch the slim young fingers manipulating theglad sounds. A genius who had come to the quiet hill village to die ofan incurable disease had trained her and had left the wonderful littlepipe organ with its fine chime of bells attached as his memorial to thepeace the village had given him in his last days. Something of hisskill and yearning had fallen upon the young girl whom he had taught. Billy always felt as if an angel had come and was ringing the bells ofheaven when Marilyn sat at the organ playing the bells. 

This night a ray of the setting sun slanting through the memorialwindow on her bronze gold hair gave her the look of Saint Ceciliasitting there in the dimness of the church. Billy sidled into a backseat still chewing and watched her. He could almost see a halo inyellow gold sun dust circling above her hair. Then a sudden revulsioncame with the thought of "that guy Judas" and the possibility that heand the old fellow had much in common. But Bah! He would go to themountain just to prove to himself that there was nothing crooked in it. 

The music was tender that night and Billy felt a strange constrictionin his throat. But you never would have guessed, as Lynn Severn turnedat the end of her melody to search the dimness for the presence shefelt had entered, that he had been under any stress of emotion, the wayhe grinned at her and sidled up the aisle. 

"Yeah, we won awright, " in answer to her question, "Red Rodge andSloppy had 'em beat from the start. Those other guys can't play ballanyway. "

Then quite casually he brought forth the dollar from his breast pocket. 

"Fer the Chinese Fund, " he stated indifferently. 

The look in her face was beautiful to see, almost as if there weretears behind the sapphire lights in her eyes. 

"Billy! All this?"

He felt as if she had knighted him. He turned red and hot with shameand pleasure. 

"Aw, that ain't much. I earned sommore too, fer m'yant. " He twisted hiscap around on his other hand roughly and then blurted out the lastthing he had meant to say:

"Miss Lynn, it ain't wrong to do a thing you don't know ain't wrong, isit?"

Marilyn looked at him keenly and laughed. 

"It generally is, Billy, if you think it _might_ be. Don't evertry to fool your conscience, Billy, it's too smart for that. "

He grinned sheepishly and then quite irrelevantly remarked:

"I saw Cart last night. "

But she seemed to understand the connection and nodded gravely:

"Yes, I saw him a moment this morning. He said he might come back againthis evening. "

The boy grunted contentedly and watched the warm color of her cheekunder the glow of the ruddy sunset. She always seemed to him a littlebit unearthly in the starriness of her beauty. Of course he never putit to himself that way. In fact he never put it at all. It was just afact in his life. He had two idols whom he worshipped from afar, twoidols who understood him equally well and were understood by him, andfor whom he would have gladly laid down his young life. This girl wasone, and Mark Carter was the other. It was the sorrow of his young lifethat Mark Carter had left Sabbath Valley indefinitely. The stories thatfloated back of his career made no difference to Billy. He adored himbut the more in his fierce young soul, and gloried in his hero's needof faithful friends. He would not have owned it to himself, perhaps, but he had spoken of Mark just to find out if this other idol believedthose tales and was affected by them. He drew a sigh of deep content ashe heard the steady voice and knew that she was still the young man'sfriend. 

They passed out of the church silently together and parted in the glowof red that seemed flooding the quiet village like a painting. She wentacross the stretch of lawn to the low spreading veranda where hermother sat talking with her father. Some crude idea of her beauty andgrace stole through his soul, but he only said to himself:

"How, --kind of--_little_ she is!" and then made a dash for hisrusty old wheel lying flat at the side of the church step. He gatheredit up and wheeled it around the side of the church to the oldgraveyard, threading his way among the graves and sitting down on abroad flat stone where he had often thought out his problems of life. The shadow of the church cut off the glow of sunset, and made it seemsilent and dark. Ahead of him the Valley lay. Across at the right itstretched toward the Junction, and he could see the evening train justpuffing in with a wee wisp of white misty smoke trailing against themountain green. The people for the hotels would be swarming off, for itwas Saturday night. The fat one would be there rolling trunks acrossand the station agent would presently close up. It would be dark overthere at eight o'clock. The mountains loomed silently, purpling andsteep and hazy already with sleep. 

To the left lay the road that curved up to the forks where one wentacross to the Highway and at right angles the Highway went straightacross the ridge in front of him and sloped down to the spot where thefat one expected him to play his part at eight o'clock to-night. TheHighway was the way down which the "rich guy" was expected to comespeeding in a high power car from New York, and had to be stopped andrelieved of money that "did not belong to him. "

Billy thought it all over. Somehow things seemed different now. He hadby some queer psychological process of his own, brought Lynn Severn'smind and Mark Carter's mind together to bear upon the matter and gaineda new perspective. He was pretty well satisfied in his own soul thatthe thing he had set out to do was not "on the level. " It began to bepretty plain to him that that "rich guy" might be in the way of gettinghurt or perhaps still worse, and he had no wish to be tangled up in amess like that. At the same time he did not often get a chance to maketwenty-five dollars, and he had no mind to give it up. It was not inhis unyellow soul to go back on his word without refunding the money, and a dollar of it was already spent to the "Chinese Fund, " to saynothing of sundaes and sodas and whips. So he sat and studied themountain ahead of him. 

Suddenly, as the sun, which had been for a long time slipping downbehind the mountains at his back, finally disappeared, his facecleared. He had found a solution. 

He sprang up from the cold stone, where his fingers had beenmechanically feeling out the familiar letters of the inscription:"Blessed are the dead--" and catching up the prone wheel, strode uponit and dashed down the darkening street toward the little cottage nearthe willows belonging to his Aunt Saxon. He was whistling as he went, for he was happy. He had found a way to keep his cake and eat it too. It would not have been Billy if he had not found a way out. 

Aunt Saxon turned a drawn and anxious face away from the window at hisapproach and drew a sigh of momentary relief. This bringing up boys wasa terrible ordeal. But thanks be this immediate terror was past and hersister's orphaned child still lived! She hurried to the stove where thewaiting supper gave forth a pleasant odor. 

"Been down to the game at M'nop'ly, " he explained happily as he flungbreezily into the kitchen and dashed his cap on a chair, "Gee! That hamsmells good! Say, Saxy, whad-ya do with that can of black paint I lefton the door step last Saturday?"

"It's in a wooden box in the corner of the shed, Willie, " answered hisAunt, "Come to supper now. It'll all get cold. I've been waiting mostan hour. "

"Oh, hang it! I don't s'pose you know where the brush is--Yes, I'mcoming. Oh, here 'tis!"

He ate ravenously and briefly. His aunt watched him with a kind ofbreathless terror waiting for the inevitable remark at the close:"Well, I gotta beat it! I gotta date with the fellas!"

She had ceased to argue. She merely looked distressed. It seemed a partof his masculinity that was inevitable. 

At the door he was visited with an unusual thoughtfulness. He stuck hishead back in the room to say:

"Oh, yes, Saxy, I _might_ not be home till morning. I _might_stay all night some place. "

He was going without further explanation, but her dismay as shemurmured pathetically:

"But to-morrow is the Sabbath, Willie--!" halted him once more. 

"Oh, I'll be home time fer Sunday-school, " he promised gaily, and wasoff down the road in the darkness, his old wheel squeakingrheumatically with each revolution growing fainter and fainter in thenight. 

But Billy did not take the road to the Junction in his rapid flight. Instead he climbed the left hand mountain road that met the Forks andled to the great Highway. Slower and slower the old wheel went, Billypuffing and bending low, till finally he had to dismount and put a dropof oil in a well known spot which his finger found in the dark, fromthe little can he carried in his pocket for such a time of need. He didnot care to proclaim his coming as he crept up the rough steep way. Andonce when a tin Lizzie swept down upon him, he ducked and dropped intothe fringe of alders at the wayside until it was past. Was that, couldit have been Cart? It didn't look like Cart's car, but it was verydark, and the man had not dimmed his lights. It was blinding. He hopedit was Cart, and that he had gone to the parsonage. Somehow he liked tothink of those two together. It made his own view of life seemstronger. So he slunk quietly up to the fork where the Highway sweptdown round a curve, and turned to go down across the ridge. Here wasthe spot where the rich guy would presently come. He looked the groundover, with his bike safely hidden below road level. With a sturdy setof satisfaction to his shoulders, and a twinkle of fun in his eye, hebegan to burrow into the undergrowth and find branches, a fallen log, stones, anything, and drag them up across the great state highway tillhe had a complete barricade. 

There had come a silverness in the sky over the next eastern mountain, and he could see the better what he was doing. Now and again he stoppedcautiously and listened, his heart beating high with fear lest afterall the rich guy might arrive before he was ready for him. When theobstruction was finished he got out a large piece of card board whichhad been fastened to the handle bars of his wheel, and from a box alsofastened on behind his saddle he produced his can of paint and a brush. The moon was beginning to show off at his right, and gave a faintluminus gleam, as he daubed his letters in crudely. 

"DETOUR to SABBATH VALLEY. Rode flooded. Brige down. "

His card was large, but so were his letters. Nevertheless in spite oftheir irregularity he got them all on, and fastened the card firmly tothe most obvious spot in the barricade. Then with a wicked gleam ofmischief in his eye he looked off down the Highway across the ridge towhere some two miles away one Pat must be awaiting his coming, and gavea single mocking gesture common to boys of his age. Springing on hiswheel he coasted down the humps and into the darkness again. 

He reflected as he rode that no harm could possibly be done. The roadinspector would not be along for a couple of days. It would simply meanthat a number of cars would go around by the way of Sabbath Valley fora day or so. It might break up a little of the quiet of the Sabbath dayat home, but Billy did not feel that that would permanently injureSabbath Valley for home purposes, and he felt sure that no one couldpossibly ever detect his hand in the matter. 

The road at the forks led four ways, Highway, coming from New York andthe Great North East, running North and South, and the Cross roadcoming from Economy and running through Sabbath Valley to Monopoly. Hehad made the Detour below the Cross Road, so that people coming fromEconomy would find no hindrance to their progress. He felt greatsatisfaction in the whole matter. 

And now there remained but to do his part and get his money. He thoughthe saw a way to make sure of that money, and his conscience had noqualms for extracting it from so crooked a thief as Pat. 

The clock on the church tower at Sabbath Valley was finishing the laststroke of eleven when Billy came slickly up the slope of the road fromSabbath Valley, and arrived on the station platform nonchalantly. 

By the light of the moon he could dimly see Pat standing uneasily offby the tracks, and the heads of two men down below in the bushes nearthe lower end of the Highway where it crossed the tracks and swept onSouth between two mountains. 

Pat held his watch in his hand and looked very ugly, but nothing fazedBilly. He didn't have to carry this thing out if he didn't want to, andthe man knew he knew too much to be ugly to him. 

"There you are, you young Pill you!" was Pat's greeting, "What kinduvatime is this 'ere to be coming along to your expensive job? I said_eight!_"

"Oh, " said Billy with a shrug and jumped to his wheel again, "Then Iguess I'll be going back. Good night!"

"Here! Wait up there, you young devil! You come mighty nigh dishing thewhole outfit, but now you're here, you'll earn your ten bucks I wasfool enough to give you, but nothing more, do you hear that?" and theman leered into his freckled young face with an ugly gun in his hand. 

Billy eyed the gun calmly. He had seen guns before. Moreover he didn'tbelieve the man had the nerve to shoot. He wasn't quite so sure of thetwo dark shadows in the bushes below, but it was well to be on the safeside. 

"Keep yer shirt on, " said Billy impertinently, "and save yer powder. You don't want the whole nation to know about this little affair ofours do you _Pat?_"

The wide one glared. 

"Well, you better not have anything like shooting going on, fer I'vegot some friends back here a little way waiting to joy ride back withme when my work's over. They might get funny if they heard a gun andcome too soon. "

"You little devil, you! I mighta known you'd give it away--!" he began, but he lowered the gun perceptibly. "Every little skunk like you isyella--yella as the devil--"

But Pat did not finish his sentence, for Billy, with a blaze in hiseyes like the lamps of a tiger, and a fierce young cat-like leap flewat the flabby creature, wrenched the gun out of his astonished hand, and before he could make any outcry held it tantalizingly in his face. Billy had never had any experience before with bullies and banditsexcept in his dreams; but he had played football, and tackled everyteam in the Valley, and he had no fear of anything. Moreover he hadspent long hours boxing and wrestling with Mark Carter, and he was hardas nails and wiry as a cat. The fat one was completely in his hands. Ofcourse those other two down across the tracks might have made troubleif Pat had cried out, but they were too far away to see or hear thesilent scuffle on the platform. But Billy was taking no chances. 

"Now, keep on yer shirt, Pat, and don't make no outcry. My friends canget here's easy as yours, so just take it quiet. All you gotta do istake that remark back you just uttered. I ain't yella, and you gottasay so. Then you hand over those fifteen bones, and I'm yer man. "

It was incredible that Pat should have succumbed, but he did. Perhapshe was none too sure of his friends in the bushes. Certainly the timewas getting short and he was in a hurry to get to his job on theHighway. Also he had no mind for being discovered or interrupted. Atany rate with a hoarse little laugh of pretended courage he put hishand in his baggy pocket and pulled out the bills. 

"You win, Kid, " he admitted, "I guess you're all white. Anything toplease the baby and get down to biz. Now, sonny, put that gun away, itdon't look well. Besides, I--got another. " He put his handinsinuatingly to his hip pocket with a grin, but Billy's grin answeredback:

"That's all right, pard. I'll just keep this one awhile then. You don'tneed two. Now, what's wanted?"

Pat edged away from the boy and measured him with his eye. The moon wascoming up and Billy loomed large in the darkness. There was adetermined set to his firm young shoulders, a lithe alertness about hisbuild, and a fine glint in his eye. Pat was really a coward. Besides, Pat was getting nervous. The hidden telephone had called him severaltimes already. He could hear even now in imagination its faint click inthe moss. The last message had said that the car had passed the stateline and would soon be coming to the last point of communication. Afterthat it was the mountain highway straight to Pleasant View, nothing tohinder. It was not a time to waste in discussion. Pat dropped to aningratiating whine. 

"Come along then, Kid. Yes, bring your wheel. We'll want it. Down thisway, just over the tracks, so, see? We want you to fall off that therewheel an' sprawl in the road like you had caught yer wheel on the trackan' it had skidded, see? Try her now, and just lay there like you wasoff your feed. "

Billy slung himself across his wheel, gave a cursory glance at thelandscape, took a running slide over the tracks with a swift pedal ortwo and slumped in a heap, lying motionless as the dead. He couldn'thave done it more effectively if he had practised for a week. Patcaught his breath and stooped over anxiously. He didn't want a death atthe start. He wouldn't care to be responsible for a concussion of thebrain or anything like that. Besides, he couldn't waste time foolingwith a fool kid when the real thing might be along any minute. Heglanced anxiously up the broad white ribbon of a road that gleamed nowin the moonlight, and then pulling out his pocket flash, flooded itswiftly over Billy's upturned freckled face that lay there still asdeath without the flicker of an eyelash. The man was panic-stricken. Hestooped lower, put out a tentative finger, turned his flash full in theboy's face again, and was just about to call to his helpers for aidwhen Billy opened a large eye and solemnly winked. 

Pat shut off his flash quickly, stuck it in his pocket backed off witha low relieved, "All right Kid, you'll do. I guess you're all rightafter all, now you jest lay--!" and slid away down the slope into thecypress clump. 

Billy with upturned face eyed the moon and winked; again, as if to afriend up there in the sky. He was thinking of the detour two miles upthe road. 

It was very pleasant lying there in the cool moonlight with the eveningbreeze blowing his rough hair and playing over his freckles, and withthe knowledge of those twenty-four bucks safely buttoned inside hissweater, and that neat little gun in his pocket where he could easilyclose his fingers about it. The only thing he regretted was that forconscience sake he had had to put up that detour. It would have been somuch more exciting than to have put up this all-night camouflage andwait here till dawn for a guy that wasn't coming at all. He began tothink about the "guy" and wonder if he would take the detour to SabbathValley, or turn back, or perhaps try Economy. That would bedisappointing. He would stand no chance of even hearing what he waslike. Now if he went through Sabbath Valley, Red or Sloppy or Rubewould be sure to sight a strange car, particularly if it was a _highpower_ racer or something of that sort, and they could discuss it, and he might be able to find out a few points about this unknown, whomhe was so nobly delivering for conscience sake--or Lynn Severn's--froman unknown fate. Of course he wouldn't let the fellows know he knewanything about the guy. 

He had lain there fifteen minutes and was beginning to grow drowsyafter his full day in the open air. If it were not for the joke of thething he couldn't keep awake. 

Pat stole out from the weeds at the slope of the road and whisperedsepulchraly:

"That's all right, Kid, jest you lay there and hold that pose. Youcouldn't do better. Yer wheel finishes the blockade. Nobody couldn'tget by if he tried. That's the Kid! 'Clare if I don't give you anotherfive bucks t'morrer if you carry this thing through. Don't you get coldfeet now--!"

Billy uttered a guttural of contempt in his throat and Pat slid away tohiding once more. The distant bells struck the midnight hour. Billythrilled with their sweetness, with the fact that they belonged to him, that he had sat that very evening watching those white fingers amongthe keys, manipulating them. He thought of the glint on her hair, --thehalo of dusty gold in the sunshine above--the light in her eyes--theglow of her cheek--her delicate profile against the memorial window--the glint of her hair--it came back, not in those words, but the visionof it--what was it like? Oh--of course. Cart's hair. The same color. They were alike, those two, and yet very different. When he had grown aman he would like to be like Cart. Cart was kind and always understoodwhen you were not feeling right. Cart smoothed the way for people introuble--old women and animals, and well--girls sometimes. He had seenhim do it. Other people didn't always understand, but he did. Cartalways had a reason. It took men to understand men. That thought had agood sound to the boy on his back in the moonlight. Although he feltsomewhat a fool lying there waiting in the road when all the time therewas that Detour. It would have been more a man's job if there hadn'thad to be that Detour, but he couldn't run risks with strange guys, andmen who carried guns, not even for--well, thirty pieces of silver--!But hark! What was that?

There seemed to be a singing along the ground. Was he losing his nervelying here so long? No, there it was again! It couldn't be possiblethat he could hear so far as two miles up that road. It was hard andsmooth macadam of course, that highway, but it couldn't be that--whatwas it they called it?--vibrations?--would reach so far! It must be. Hewould ask Cart about that. 

The humming continued and grew more distinct, followed by a sort ofthrobbing roar that seemed coming toward him, and yet was still veryfar away. It must be a car at the Detour. In a moment it would turndown the bumpy road toward Sabbath Valley, and very likely some ofthose old broken whiskey bottles along the way would puncture a tireand the guy would take till morning getting anywhere. Perhaps he couldeven get away in time to come up innocently enough and help him out. Aguy like that might not know how to patch a puncture. 

But the sound was distinctly coming on. Billy opened one eye, then theother, and hastily scanned the sky in either direction for anaeroplane, but the sky was as clear as crystal without a speck, and thesound was distinctly drawing nearer. 

A voice from the roadside hurtled sharply across:

"Hist! There! He's coming! Lay still! Remember you get five more bucksif you pull this off!"

A cold chill crept down Billy's back on tiny needle-pointed fringe offeet like a centipede. There was a sudden constriction in his throatand a leaden weight on each eye. He could not have opened them if hehad tried, for a great white light stabbed across them and seemed to beholding them down for inspection. The thing he had wanted to havehappen had come, and he was frightened; frightened cold clear to thesoul of him--not at the thing that was about to come, but at the factthat he had broken faith with himself after all; broken faith with thehaloed girl at the organ in the golden light; broken faith--for thirtypieces of silver! In that awful moment he was keenly conscious of thefact that when he got the other five there would be just thirty dollarsfor the whole! Thirty pieces of silver and the judgment day alreadycoming on!

IV

Lynn Severn was restless as she sat on the porch in the cool darkevening and heard unheeding the small village sounds that stole to herears. The laughter of two children playing hide and seek behind thebushes across the way; the call of their mother summoning them to bed. The tinkle of a piano down the street; the whine of a Victrola inanother home; the cry of a baby in pain; the murmur of talk on theporch next door; the slamming of a door; the creak of a gate; footstepsgoing down the brick pavement; the swinging to and fro of a hammockholding happy lovers under the rose pergola at Joneses. She couldidentify them all, and found her heart was listening for another sound, a smooth running car that purred, coming down the street. But it didnot come!

By and by she slipped out and into the church, opening one window tolet in the moonlight, and unlocking the organ by the sense of feeling. Her fingers strayed along the keys in tender wandering melodies, butshe did not pull the stop that controlled the bells. She would haveliked to play those bells and call through them to Mark across themountains where he might be riding, call to tell him that she waswaiting, call to ask him why he was so strangely aloof, so silent, andpale in his dignity; what had come between them, old friends of theyears? She felt she could say with the bells what her lips could neverspeak. But the bells would cry her trouble to the villagers also, andshe could not let _them_ hear. So she played soft melodies oftrust and hope and patience, until her father came to find her, andlinking his arm in hers walked back with her through the moonlight, notasking anything, only seeming to understand her mood. He was that wayalways. He could understand without being told. Somehow she felt it andwas comforted. He was that way with everybody. It was what made him sobeloved in his parish, which comprised the whole Valley, that and hisgreat sincerity and courage. But always his sense of understandingseemed keenest with this flower-faced girl of his. He seemed to havegone ahead of her way always to see that all was right--or wrong--andthen walked with her to be sure she did not stumble or miss her way. Henever attempted to reason her out of herself, nor to minimize hertrials, but was just there, a strong hold when she needed it. Shelooked up with a smile and slipped her hand in his. She understood hisperfect sympathy, as if his own past youth were touching hers andmaking her know that whatever it was she had to face she would comethrough. He was like a symbol of God's strength to her. Somehow theweight was lifted from her heart. They lingered on the piazza togetherin the moonlight a few minutes, speaking quietly of the morrow and itsduties, then they went into the wide pleasant living room, and satdown, mother and daughter near together, while the father read aportion:

 "He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. "I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust. "Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. "He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust. "

The words seemed to fill the room with a sweet peace, and to draw thehearts of the listeners as a Voice that is dear draws and soothes aftera day of separation and turmoil and distress. 

They knelt and the minister's voice spoke familiarly to the UnseenPresence, giving thanks for mercies received, mentioning littlethrobbing personalities that belonged to them as a family and asindividuals, reminding one of what it must have been in the days beforeSin had come and Adam walked and talked with God in the cool of theevening, and received instruction and strengthening straight from theSource. One listening would instinctively have felt that here was thesecret of the great strength of Lynn Severn's life; the reason whyneither college nor the world had been able to lure her one iota fromher great and simple faith which she had brought with her from herValley home and taken back again unsullied. This family altar was theheart of her home, and had brought her so near to God that she_knew_ what she had believed and could not be shaken from it byany flippant words from lovely or wise lips that only knew the theoryof her belief and nothing of its spirit and tried to argue it away witha fine phrase and a laugh. 

So Lynn went up to her little white chamber that looked out upon thequiet hills, knelt awhile beside the white bed in the moonlight, thenlay down and slept. 

 * * * * *

Out among the hills on the long smooth road in the white moonlightthere shot a car like a living thing gone crazy, blaring a whiter lightthan the moonlight down the way, roaring and thundering as only acostly and well groomed beast of a machine can roar and thunder when itis driven by hot blood and a mad desire, stimulated by frequentapplications from a handy flask, and a will that has never known acurb. 

He knew it was a mad thing he was doing, rushing across space throughthe dark at the beck of a woman's smile, a woman who was another man'swife, but a woman who had set on fire a whole circle of men of which hewas a part. He was riding against all caution to win a bet, ridingagainst time to get there before two other men who were riding as hardfrom other directions to win the woman who belonged to an absenthusband, win her and run away with her if he could. It was theculmination of a year of extravagances, the last cry in sensations, andthe telephone wires had been hot with daring, wild allurement, and madthreat in several directions since late the night before. 

The woman was in a great summer hotel where extravagances of all sortsare in vogue, and it had been her latest game to call with her lute-likevoice over the phone to three of her men friends who had wooed herthe strongest, daring them all to come to her at once, promising to flywith the one who reached her first, but if none reached her beforemorning dawned she remained as she was and laughed at them all. 

Laurence Shafton had closed with the challenge at once and given ordersfor his car to be ready to start in ten minutes. From a southern cityabout an equal distance from the lady, one Percy Emerson, of theWellington-Emersons, started about the same time, leaving a trail oftelegrams and phone messages to be sent after his departure. The thirdman, Mortimer McMarter, a hot-headed, hot-blooded scot, had started withthe rest, for the lady knew her lovers well, and not one would refuse;but he was lying dead at a wayside inn with his car a heap of litteroutside from having collided with a truck that was minding its ownbusiness and giving plenty of room to any sane man. This one was notsane. But of this happening not even the lady knew as yet, for MortimerMcMarter was not one to leave tales behind him when he went out oflife, and the servants who had sent his messages were far away. 

The clock in the car showed nearly twelve and the way was long ahead. But he would make it before the dawn. He must. He stepped on theaccelerator and shot round a curve. A dizzy precipice yawned at hisside. He took another pull at the flask he carried and shot on wildlythrough the night. Then suddenly he ground on his brakes, the machinetwisted and snarled like an angry beast and came to a stand almost intothe arms of a barricade across the road. The young man hurled out anoath, and leaned forward to look, his eyes almost too blood-shot andblurred to read:

"DETOUR to Sabbath Valley!"

He laughed aloud. "Sabbath Valley!" He swore and laughed again, thenlooked down the way the rude arrow pointed, "Well, I like that! SabbathValley. That'll be a good joke to tell, but I'll make it yet or land inhell--!" He started his car and twisted it round to the rougher road, feeling the grind of the broken glass that strewed the way. Billy haddone his work thoroughly, and anticipated well what would happen. Butthose tires were costly affairs. They did not yield to the first cutthat came, and the expensive car built for racing on roads as smooth asglass bumped and jogged down into the ruts and started toward SabbathValley, with the driver pulling again at his almost empty flask, andswaying giddily in his seat. Half a mile farther down the mountain, thecar gave a gasp, like the flitting soul of a dying lion, and came withsudden grinding breaks to a dead stop in the heart of a deep wood. 

Five minutes later another car, with a soft purring engine came up tothe Crossroads from Economy, slowed just a fraction as it crossed theHighway, the driver looking keenly at the barricade, then stopping hiscar with a sudden jerk and swinging out. He turned a pocket flash onthe big card board Billy had erected, its daubed letters still wet andblurring into the pasteboard. He looked a bit quizzical over thestatement, "RODE FLOODED, BRIGE DOWN, " because he happened to knowthere was no bridge and nothing to flood the road for several milesahead. He examined the barricade carefully, even down to the brokenglass in the road, then deliberately, swiftly, with his foot kickedaway the glass, cleared a width for his car, and jumping in backed up, turned and started slowly down the condemned road to investigate. Something was wrong down the highway, and the sooner it was set rightthe better. There was one thing, he wished he had his gun with him, butthen--! And he swung on down for two miles, going faster and faster, seeing nothing but white still road, and quiet sleeping trees, withlooming mountains against the sky everywhere. Then, suddenly, acrossthe way in the blare of his lights a white face flashed into view, anda body, lying full across the road, with a bicycle flung to one sidecompleting the block. He brought his car to a quick stand and jumpedout, but before he could take one step or even stoop, someone caughthim from behind, and something big and dark and smothering was flungover his head. A heavy blow seemed to send him whirling, whirling downinto infinite space, with a long tongue of living fire leaping up togreet him. 

"Beat it, Kid, and keep yer face shut!" hissed Pat into Billy's ear, atthe same time stuffing a bill into his hand. 

Billy had just sense enough left to follow the assisting kick and rollhimself out of the road, with a snatch at his machine which pulled itdown out of sight. He had a secret feeling that he was "yellow" afterall in spite of his efforts, letting a guy get taken this way withouteven a chance to put up a fight. Where was that gun? He reached hishand into his pocket and was steadied by the feeling of the cold steel. Then he knew that the men were in the car and were about to start. Theyhad dumped the owner into the back seat and were going to carry him offsomewhere. What were they going to do? He must find out. He wasresponsible. He hadn't meant to let anything like this happen. Ifeverything wasn't going to be on the square he might have to get intoit yet. He must stick around and see. 

The men were having a whispered consultation over the car. They werenot used to that kind, but a car was a car. They tried to start it withnervous glances down the road. It jerked and hissed and complained butbegan to obey. The wheels were beginning to move. In a flash it wouldbe gone!

Billy scrambled noiselessly up the bank behind the car, his move wellcovered by the noise of the engine. With a quick survey of thesituation he tucked himself hastily into the spare tire on the back, just as the car gave a lurch and shot forward down across the tracks. He had all he could do to maintain his position and worm himself into afirmer holding for the first minute or two, and when he began torealize what he was doing he found his heart beating like a young triphammer. He slid a groping hand into his pocket once more forreassurance. If anything really happened he had the gun. 

But his heart was heavy. Things had not gone right. He had planned tocarry this thing through as a large joke, and here he was mixed up in acrooked deal if ever there was one. The worst of it was he wasn't outof it yet. He wished he knew whose car this was and where they werebound for. How about the license tag? Gripping his unstable seat heswayed forward and tried to see it just below him. In the dim light itlooked like a New York license. It must be the guy they were after allright, --they had telephoned about a New York man--yet--_Cart_ hada New York license on his car! He was living in New York now, --andthere must be lots of other guys--!

A kind of sickening thud seemed to drop through his mind down to thepit of his stomach as he tried to think it out. His eyes peered intothe night watching every familiar landmark--there was the old pinewhere they always turned off to go fishing: and yes, they were turning_away_ from Economy road. Yes, they were going through Hackett'sPass. A chill crept through his thin old sweater as the damp breath offerns and rocks struck against his face. His eyes shone grim and hardin the night, suddenly grown old and stern. This was the kind of thingyou read about in novels. In spite of pricks of conscience his spiritsrose. It was great to be in it if it had to be. The consciousness ofSabbath Valley bathed in peaceful moonlight, all asleep, of theminister and his daughter, and Aunt Saxon, fell away; even the memoryof bells that called to righteousness--he was out in the night on awild ride and his soul thrilled to the measure of it. He fairly exultedas he reflected that he might be called upon to do some great deed ofvalor--in fact he felt he _must_ do a great deed of valor toretrieve his self respect after having made that balk about the detour. How did that guy get around the detour anyway? _Some guy!_

Hackett's Pass was far behind and the moon was going low when the carstopped for a moment and a hurried consultation took place inside. Billy couldn't hear all that was said, but he gathered that time wasshort and the conspirators must be back at a certain place beforemorning. They seemed somehow to have missed a trail that was to havecut the distance greatly. Billy clung breathlessly to his crampedposition and waited. He hoped they wouldn't get out and try to find theway, for then some of them might see him, and he was so stiff he wassure he would bungle getting out of the way. But after a breathlessmoment the car started on more slowly, and finally turned down a steeprough place, scarcely a trail, into the deeper woods. For a long timethey went along, slower and slower, into the blackness of night itseemed. There was no moon, and the men had turned off the lights. Therewas nothing but a pocket flash which one of them carried, and turned onnow and again to show them the way. The engine too was muffled and wentsnuffing along through the night like a blind thing that had beengagged. Billy began to wonder if he would ever find his legs usefulagain. Sharp pains shot through his joints, and he became aware ofsleep dropping upon his straining eyes like a sickening cloud. Yet hemust keep awake. 

He squirmed about and changed his position, staring into the darknessand wondering if this journey was ever to end. Now they were bumpingdown a bank, and slopping through water, not very deep, a smallmountain stream on one of the levels. He tried to think where it mustbe, but was puzzled. They seemed to have traveled part of the way incurves. Twice they stopped and backed up and seemed to be returning ontheir tracks. They crossed and recrossed the little stream, and thedriver was cursing, and insisting on more light. At last they beganclimbing again and the boy drew a breath of relief. He could tellbetter where he was on the heights. He began to think of morning andSabbath Valley bathed in its Sabbath peace, with the bells chiming acall to worship--and _he not there!_ Aunt Saxon would be_crazy!_ She would bawl him out! _He should worry!_ and shewould weep, pink weak tears from her old thin eyes, that seemed to havenever done much else but weep. The thought turned and twisted in hissoul like an ugly curved knife and made him angry. Tears always madehim angry. And Miss Lynn--she would watch for him--! He had promised tobe there! And she would not understand--and there would come thatgrieved look in her eyes. She would think--Oh, she would think he didnot _want_ to come, and did not _mean_ to keep his promise, and things like that--and she would have to think them! He couldn'thelp it, could he? He _had_ to come along, didn't he?

In the midst of his miserable reflections the car stopped dead on alevel place and with a cold perspiration on his forehead Billy peeredaround him. They must have reached the top of a ridge, for the sky wasvisible with the morning star pinned against a luminous black. Againstit a blacker shape was visible, half hid in trees, a building of somesort, solid, substantial, but deserted. 

The men were getting out of the car. Billy gripped the gun and droppedsilently to the ground, sliding as stealthily into the shadows of thetrees as if he had been a snake. 

Pat, stepped heavily to the ground and began to give directions in alow growl. Billy crouched and listened. 

"Let's get him shifted quick! We gotta beat it outta here! Link, it'sup to you an' Shorty to get this car over the state line before light, an' you'll have to run me back to the Crossing first, so I can be atthe station in time for the early train. That'll be _going some!_"

"Well, I guess _anyhow not_, " said Link sullenly, "Whadda ya thinkwe are? Fools? Run you back to the Crossing in a pig's eye. You'll footit back if you get there, er come with us. We ain't gonta get caughtwith this car on our hands. What we gonta do with it anyhow, when weget crost the state line?"

"Why, you run it into the field off behind that row of alders. Sam'sgot a man on the lookout. They'll have that little old car so she won'trecognize her best friend before you can count three, so you shouldworry. And you'll run me back or you won't get the dough. See?_I'll_ see to that. Pat said I wasn't to run no risks fer notbein' back in time. Now, shift that guy's feet out on my shoulder. Handle him quick. Nope, he won't wake up fer two hours yet. I give himplenty of dope. Got them bracelets tight on his feet? All right now. He's some hefty bird, ain't he?"

They moved away in the direction of the building, carrying a long darkshape between them, and Billy breathless in the bushes, watched, turning rapid plans in his mind. Here he was in the midst of anautomobile getaway! Many the time he had gone with Mark and the Chiefof Police on a still hunt for car thieves, but this time he was of theparty. His loyal young heart boiled hot with rage, and he determined todo what he could single-handed to stem the tide of crime. Just what hewas going to do he was undetermined. One, thing was certain, he mustget the number of that license tag. He looked toward the house. 

The group had paused with their burden at the door and Pat had turnedon his pocket flash light for just an instant as they fumbled with anancient lock. In that instant the whole front of the old stone housewas lit up clearly, and Billy gasped. The _haunted house!_ Thehouse on the far mountain where a man had murdered his brother and thenhanged himself. It had stood empty and closed for years, ever sinceBilly could remember, and was shunned and regarded with awe, andpointed out by hunters as a local point of interest. 

Billy regarded with contempt the superstition that hung around theplace, but he gasped when he saw where he was, for they must have cometwenty miles round about and it was at least ten across the mountainsby the short cut. Ten miles from home, and he had to foot it! If he hadonly brought old trusty! No telling now whether he would ever see itagain. But what were bicycles at such a time as this!

The flash had gone out and the house was in darkness again, but hecould hear the grating of a rusty hinge as the door opened, and faintfootfalls of rubbered feet shuffled on a dusty floor. Now was his time!He darted out to the back of the car, and stooping down with his faceclose to the license, holding his old cap in one hand to shelter itdrew out his own pocket flash and turned it on the sign, registeringthe number clearly on his alert young mind. The flash light was on itslast breath of battery, and blinked asthmatically, winking out into athread of red as the boy pressed it eagerly for one more look. He hadbeen so intent that he had not heard the rubbered feet till they werealmost upon him, and he had barely time to spring back into the bushes. 

"Hist! What was that?" whispered Pat, and the three stopped motionlessin their tracks. Billy held his breath and touched the cold steel inhis pocket. Of course there was always the gun, but what was one gunagainst three?

V

The whistle of the Cannery at Sabbath Valley blew a relief blast fiveminutes ahead of midnight in deference to the church chimes, and thenight shift which had been working overtime on account of a consignmentof tomatoes that would not keep till Monday, poured joyously out intothe road and scattered to their various homes. 

The outmost of these homegoers, Tom McMertrie and Jim Rafferty, wholived at the other extreme of the village, came upon a crippled car, coughing and crawling toward them in front of the Graveyard. Itsdriver, much sobered by lack of stimulant, and frequent necessity forgetting out and pushing his car over hard bits of road, called to themnoisily. 

The two workmen, pleasant of mood, ready for a joke, not altogetheraverse to helping if this proved to be "the right guy, " halted andstepped into the road just to look the poor noble car over. It was thelure of the fine machine. 

"Met with an accident?" Jim remarked affably, as if it were somethingto enjoy. 

"Had toire thrubble?" added Tom, punching the collapsed tires. 

The questions seemed to anger the driver, who demanded loftily:

"Where's your garage?"

"Garage? Oh, we haven't any garage, " said Jim pleasantly, with a mutetwinkle in his Irish eye. 

"No garage? Haven't any garage! What town is this, --if you call it atown?"

"Why, mon, this is Sawbeth Volley! Shorely ye've heard of SawbethVolley!"

"No, I never heard of it!" said the stranger contemptuously, "but fromwhat I've seen of it so far I should say it ought to be called Hell'sPit! Well, what do you do when you want your car fixed?"

"Well, we don't hoppen to hove a cyar, " said Tom with a meditative air, stooping to examine the spokes of a wheel, "Boot, ef we hod mon, I'mthenkin' we'd _fix_ it!"

Jim gave a flicker of a chuckle in his throat, but kept his outwardgravity. The stranger eyed the two malevolently, helplessly, and beganonce more, holding his rage with a cold voice. 

"Well, how much do you want to fix my car?" he asked, thrusting hishand into his pocket and bringing out an affluent wallet. 

The men straightened up and eyed him coldly. Jim turned indifferentlyaway and stepped back to the sidewalk. Tom lifted his chin and repliedkindly:

"Why, Mon, it's the _Sawbeth, _ didn't ye know? I'm s'proised atye! It's the Sawbeth, an' this is Sawbeth Volley! We don't wurruk onthe Sawbeth day in Sawbeth Volley. Whist! Hear thot, mon?"

He lifted his hand and from the stone belfry near-by came the solemntone of the chime, pealing out a full round of melody, and then tollingsolemnly twelve slow strokes. There was something almost uncanny aboutit that held the stranger still, as if an unseen presence with aconvincing voice had been invoked. The young man sat under the spelltill the full complement of the ringing was finished, the workman withhis hand up holding attention, and Jim Rafferty quietly enjoying it allfrom the curb stone. 

When the last sweet resonance had died out, the Scotchman's hand wentslowly down, and the stranger burst forth with an oath:

"Well, can you tell me where I can go to get fixed up? I've wastedenough time already. "

"I should say from whut I've seen of ye, mon, that yer roight in thotstatement, and if I was to advoise I'd say go right up to the parson, His loight's still burnin' in the windo next beyant the tchurtch, soye'll not be disturbin' him. Not that he'd moind. He'll fix ye up efanybody cun; though I'm doubtin' yer in a bad wy, only wy ye tak it. Good-night to ye, the winda wi' the leight, mon, roight next beyant thetchurtch!"

The car began its coughing and spluttering, and slowly jerked itselfinto motion, its driver going angrily on his unthankful way. The twoworkmen watching him with amused expressions, waited in the shadow of atree till the car came to a stop again in front of the parsonage, and atall young fellow got out and looked toward the lighted window. 

"Oh, boy! He's going in!" gasped Jim, slapping his companion silentlyon the back. "Whatt'll Mr. Severn think, Tommy?"

"It'll do the fresh laddie gude, " quoth Tom, a trifle abashed but readyto stand by his guns, "I'm thenkin' he's one of them what feels theyowns the airth, an' is bound to step on all worms of the dust whutcomes in thur wy. But Jim, mon, we better be steppin' on, fer tomorra'sthe Sawbeth ya ken, an' it wuddent be gude for our souls if the parsonshud cum out to investigate. " Chuckling away into the silent streetthey disappeared, while Laurence Shafton stalked angrily up the littlepath and pounded loudly on the quaint knocker of the parsonage. 

 * * * * *

The minister was on his knees beside his desk, praying for the soul ofthe wandering lad who had been dear to him for years. He had finishedhis preparation for the coming day, and his heart was full of a greatlonging. As he poured out his desire he forgot the hour and his needfor rest. It was often in such companionship he forgot all else. He wasthat kind of a man. 

But he came to his feet on the instant with the knock, and was ready togo out on any errand of mercy that was needing him. It was not anunusual thing for a knock to come interrupting his midnight devotions. Sometimes the call would be to go far out on the mountain to some onewho was in distress, or dying. 

The minister swung the door wide and peered into the night pleasantlyalmost as if to welcome an unexpected guest. In the sudden flood of theporch light his face was illumined, and behind him the pretty livingroom gave a sweet homely setting. The stranger stood for an instantblinking, half astonished; then the memory of his rendezvous at breakof day brought back his irritation at the delay. 

"Are you Parsons?" he demanded, just as if "Parsons" were at fault thathe had not been on hand before. 

"Parsons?" said Mr. Severn reflectively. "I don't recall anyone of thatname hereabouts. Perhaps you are on the wrong road. There is a Parsonsat Monopoly. "

"Parsons is the name. Aren't you Parsons? A couple of men down the roadsaid you were, and that you could fix me up. They said right next thechurch and that your light was still burning. " The visitor's tone wasbelligerent. 

Severn's face cleared with a smile. 

"Oh, they must have said 'Parson, ' they often call me that. Come in. What can I do for you?"

The young man eyed him coldly and made no move to enter. 

"Parson or Parsons, it makes no difference does it? Mr. Parson, ifyou're so particular then, come out and look at my car. It seems to bein bad shape, and be quick about it. I've got over two hundred miles tomake before daybreak, so get a hustle on. I'll pay you well if youdon't waste any time. "

A queer look descended upon the minister in twinkles of amusementaround his eyes and lips much like the smile that Tom MacMertrie hadworn, only there was not a rag of hurt pride about it. With entirepleasantness he said:

"Just wait a moment till I get a light. "

As he turned to go Shafton called after him:

"Oh, by the way, got anything to drink? I'm thirsty as the devil. "

Severn turned, instant hospitality in his face. 

"What will you have? Water or milk? Plenty of both. "

He smiled and Shafton looked at him in haughty amazement. 

"Man! I said I wanted something to _drink!_" he thundered, "butdon't stand there all night doddering. I've got to get started!"

A slight lifting of the chin, a trifle of steel in the kind eyes, ashade of coolness in the voice, as the clear comprehension of heavenhad sifted the visitor, and the minister said, almost sternly:

"Oh, I see, " and disappeared through a swinging door into the pantry. 

It was about this time that Lynn Severn awoke to near consciousness andwondered what kind of a queer noisy guest her father had now. 

The minister was gone sometime and the guest grew impatient, stampingup and down the piazza and kicking a porch rocker out of his path. Helooked at his watch and frowned, wondering how near he was to the endof his detour, and then he started in pursuit of his man, trampingthrough the Severn house as if it were a public garage, and almostrunning into the minister as he swung the door open. Severn wasapproaching with a lighted lantern in one hand and a plate of brownbread and butter, with a cup of steaming coffee in his other hand. 

Laurence Shafton stopped abruptly, a curse on his lips, but something, either the genial face of the minister, or the aroma of the coffee, silenced him. And indeed there was something about Graham Severn thatwas worth looking at. Tall and well built, with a face at once strongand sweet, and with a certain luminousness about it that almost seemedlike transparency to let the spirit shine through, although there wasnothing frail about his well cut features. 

Laurence Shafton, looking into the frank kind eyes of the ministersuddenly became aware that this man had taken a great deal of troublefor him. He hadn't brought any liquor, probably because he did not knowenough of the world to understand what it was he wanted, or because hewas playing a joke. As he looked into those eyes and noted with hishalf befuddled senses the twinkle playing at the corners he was notquite sure but the joke was on himself. But however it was the coffeesmelled good and he took it and blundered out a brief "Thanks. "

Eating his brown bread and butter, the like of which had never enteredhis pampered lips before, and taking great swoops of the hot strongcoffee he followed this strange new kind of a man out to the car in themoonlight, paying little heed to the careful examination that ensued, being so accustomed to ordering all his needs supplied and finding themforthcoming without delay. 

Finally the minister straightened up:

"I'm afraid you won't go many miles to-night. You've burned out yourbearings!"

"Hell!" remarked the young gentleman pausing before the last swallow ofcoffee. 

"Oh, you won't find it so bad as that, I imagine, " answered the steadyvoice of the minister. "I can give you a bed and take care of you overto-morrow, and perhaps Sandy McPherson can fix you up Monday, althoughI doubt it. He'd have to make new bearings, or you'd have to send forsome to the factory. "

But Lawrence Shafton did not wait to hear the suggestions. He stormedup and down the sidewalk in front of the parsonage and let forth such astream of choice language as had not been heard in that locality inmany a long year. The minister's voice, cool, stern, commanding, brokein upon his ravings. 

"I think that will be about all, sir!"

Laurence Shafton stopped and stared at the minister's lifted hand, notbecause he was overawed, simply because never before in the whole ofhis twenty-four years had any one dared lift voice to him in a tone ofcommand or reproof. He could not believe his ears, and his anger rosehotly. He opened his mouth to tell this insignificant person who he wasand where to get off, and a few other common arguments of gentlemen ofhis class, but the minister had a surprising height as he stood in themoonlight, and there was that something strange and spiritual about himthat seemed to meet the intention and disarm it. His jaw dropped, andhe could not utter the words he had been about to speak. This wasinsufferable--! But there was that raised hand. It seemed like some onenot of this world quite. He wasn't afraid, because it wasn't in him tobe afraid. That was his pose, not afraid of those he considered hisinferiors, and he did not consider that anyone was his superior. Butsomehow this was something new in his experience. A man like this! Itwas almost as if his mere being there demanded a certain homage. It wasqueer. The young man passed a hand over his hot forehead and tried tothink. Then the minister's voice went calmly on. It was almost as if hehad not said that other at all. Perhaps he had not. Perhaps he dreamedit or imagined it. Perhaps he had been taking too much liquor and thiswas one of the symptoms--! Yet there still ringing in his ears--wellhis soul anyway, --were those quiet words, "That will be about all, sir!" Sternly. As if he had a _right_ to speak that way _tohim_! To Laurence Shafton, son of the great Wilson J. Shafton, ofNew York! He looked up at the man again and found a sort of respect forhim dawning in himself. It was queer, but the man was--well, interesting. What was this he was saying?

"I am sorry"--just as if he had never rebuked him at all, "I am sorrythat there seems to be no other way. If I had a car I would take you tothe nearest railway station, but there are no trains to-night, not eventwenty miles away until six in the morning. There are only four carsowned in the village. Two are gone off on a summer trip, the third isout of commission being repaired, and the fourth belongs to the doctor, who happens to be away on the mountain to-night attending a dying man. You see how it is. "

The young man opened his mouth to curse once more, and strangely enoughclosed it again: Somehow cursing seemed to have lost its force. 

"There is just one chance, " went on the minister thoughtfully, "that ayoung man who was visiting his mother to-day may still be here. I cancall up and find out. He would take you I know. "

Almost humbly the great man's son followed the minister back to thehouse and listened anxiously while he called a number on the telephone. 

"Is that you Mrs. Carter? I'm sorry if I have disturbed you. What? Youhadn't gone to bed yet? Oh, waiting for Mark? Then he isn't there?That's what I called up for. There is some one here in trouble, needingto be taken to Monopoly. I was sure Mark would help him out ifpossible. Yes, please, if he comes soon, ask him to call me. Just leavea note for him, can't you? I wouldn't sit up. Mark will take good careof himself. Yes, of course, that's the mother of it. Well, good-night, Mrs. Carter. "

The young man strode angrily out to the door, muttering--but no wordswere distinct. He wanted to be away from the compelling calmness ofthose eyes that seemed to search him through. He dashed out the screendoor, letting it slam behind him, and down the steps, intending to_make_ his car go on at all odds until he reached another townsomewhere. It had gone so far, it could go on a little farther perhaps. This country parson did not know about cars, how should he?

And then somewhere right on the top step he made a false step andslipped, or was it his blindness of rage? He caught at the vines withfrantic hands, but as if they laughed at him they slipped from hisgrasp. His feet clattered against the step trying for footing, but hewas too near the edge, and he went down straight into a little rockynook where ferns and violets were growing, and a sharp jagged rockstuck up and bit him viciously as he slid and struggled for a firmfooting again. Then an ugly twist of his ankle, and he lay in ahumiliating heap in the shadow of the vines on the lawn, crying out andbeginning to curse with the pain that gripped him in sharp teeth, andstung through his whole excitable inflamed being. 

The minister was there almost at once, bending over him. Somehow hefelt as if he were in the power of somebody greater than he had evermet before. It was almost like meeting God out on the road somewhere. The minister stooped and picked him up, lightly, as if he had been afeather, and carried him like a baby, thrown partly over his shoulder;up the steps, and into that blasted house again. Into the bright lightthat sickened him and made the pain leap up and bring a mightyfaintness. 

He laid him almost tenderly upon a soft couch, and straightened thepillows about him, seeming to know just how every bone felt, and howevery nerve quivered, and then he asked a few questions in a quietvoice. "What happened? Was it your ankle? Here? Or _here?_ Allright. Just be patient a minute, I'll have you all fixed up. This wasmy job over in France you know. No, don't move. It won't hurt long. Itwas right here you said. Now, wait till I get my bottle of lotion. "

He was back in an instant with bandages, and bottle, and seemed to knowjust how to get off a shoe with the least trouble. 

An hour later the scion of a great New York family lay sleeping in theminister's study, the old couch made up with cool sheets, and theswollen ankle comfortably bandaged with cool wet cloths. Outside in themoonlight the crippled car stood alone, and Sabbath Valley slept, whilethe bells chimed out a single solemn stroke. 

VI

Billy was doing some rapid thinking while he stood motionless in thebushes. It seemed a half hour, but in reality it was but a few secondsbefore he heard a low whistle. The men piled rapidly into the car withfurtive looks on either side into the dark. 

Billy gave a wavering glance toward the looming house in the darknesswhere the motionless figure had been left. Was it a dead man lyingthere alone, or was he only doped. But what could he do in the darkwithout tools or flash? He decided to stick with the machine, for hehad no desire to foot it home, and anyway, with his bicycle he would befar more independent. Besides, there was the perfectly good automobileto think about. If the man was dead he couldn't be any deader. If hewas only doped it would be some time before he came to, and beforethese keepers could get back he would have time to do something. Billynever doubted his responsibility in the matter. It was only a questionof expediency. If he could just "get these guys with the goods onthem, " he would be perfectly satisfied. 

He made a dash for his seat at the back while the car was turning, andthey were off at a brisk pace down the mountain, not waiting this timeto double on their tracks, but splashing through the Creek only onceand on up to the road again. 

Like an uneasy fever in his veins meantime, went and came a vision ofthat limp inert figure of the man being carried into the haunted houseas it stood out in the flare of the flash light, one arm hangingheavily. What did that hand and arm remind him of? Oh--h! The time whenMark was knocked cold at the Thanksgiving Day Football game last year. Mark's hand and arm had looked like that--he had held his fingers likethat--when they picked him up. Mark had the base-ball hand! Of coursethat rich guy might have been an athlete too, they were sometimes. Andof course Mark was right now at home and in bed, where Billy wished hewas also, but somehow the memory of that still dark "knocked cold"attitude, and that hanging hand and arm would not leave him. He frownedin the dark and wished this business was over. Mark was the only livingsoul Billy felt he could ever tell about this night's escapade, and hewasn't sure he could tell him, but he knew if he did that Mark wouldunderstand. 

Billy watched anxiously for a streak of light in the East, but none hadcome as yet. The moon had left the earth darker than darkness when itwent. 

He tried to think what he should do. His bicycle was lying in thebushes and he ought to get it before daylight. If they went near thestation he would drop off and pick it up. Then he would scuttle throughthe woods and get to the Crossroads, and beat it down to the Blue DuckTavern. That was the only place open all night where he couldtelephone. He didn't like to go to the Blue Duck Tavern on account ofhis aunt. She had once made him promise most solemnly, bringing insomething about his dead mother, that he would never go to the BlueDuck Tavern. But this was a case of necessity, and dead mothers, ifthey cared at all, ought to understand. He had a deep underlying faithin the principle of what a mother--at any rate a dead mother--would belike. And anyhow, this wasn't the kind of "going" to the Tavern hisaunt had meant. He was keeping the spirit of the promise if not theletter. In his code the spirit meant much more than the letter--atleast on this occasion. There were often times when he rigidly adheredto the letter and let the spirit take care of itself, but this was notone. 

But if, on the other hand they did not take Pat all the way back to thecrossing by the station it would be even better for him, for the roadon which they now were passed within a quarter of a mile of the BlueDuck Tavern, and he could easily beat the car to the state line, bydropping off and running. 

But suddenly and without warning it became apparent that Pat was to belet out to walk to the station crossing, and Billy had only a second todecide what to do, while Pat lumbered swearing down from the car. If hegot off now he would have to wait till Pat was far ahead before hedared go after his wheel, and he would lose so much time there would beno use in trying to save the car. On the other hand if he stayed on thecar he was liable to be seen by Pat, and perhaps caught. However, thisseemed the only possible way to keep the car from destruction and loss, so he wriggled himself into his seat more firmly, tucked his legspainfully up under him, covered his face with his cap, and hid hishands in his pockets. 

"You've plenty of time, " raged Pat, "You've only a little five milesrun left. It's a good half hour before light. You're a pair of cowards, that's whut ye are, and so I'll tell Sam. If I get fired fer not beingthere fer the early milk train, there'll be no more fat jobs fer youse. Now be sure ye do as you're told. Leave the car in the first fieldbeyond the woods after ye cross the state line, lift yer flash lightand wink three times, count three slow, and wink three times more. _Then beat it!_ And doncha ferget to go feed that guy! We don'twant he should die on us. "

The engine began to mutter. Pat with a farewell string of oaths rolledoff down the road, too sleepy to look behind, and Billy held his breathand ducked low till the rolling Pat was one with the deep gray of themorning. 

The first streak of light was beginning to show in the East, and theall-night revellers at the Blue Duck were in the last stages of goinghome after a more than usually exciting season, when Billy like thehardened promise-breaker he felt himself to be, boldly slid in at thedoor and disappeared inside the telephone booth behind the last row oftables in the corner. For leave it to a boy, even though he be not afrequenter of a place, to know where everything needful is to be found!

He had to wait several minutes to get the Chief of Police in Economy, and while he waited two gaunt habitues of the Tavern slid into seats atthe table to the left of the booth, ordered drinks and began to discusssomething in a low tone. Billy paid no heed till he happened to hearhis friend's name:

"Yep, I seen Mark come in with Cherry early in the evening. He setright over there and gotter some drink. The girl was mad because hewouldn't get her what she wanted to drink. I happened to be settin'direckly in front and I heard her gassin' about it. She tossed her headand made her eyes look little and ugly like a pig, and once she got upto go, and he grabbed her hands and made her set down; and just setthere fer sometime alookin' at her hard an' holdin' her han's andchewin' the rag at her. I don't know what all they was sayin, ' fer hetalked mighty low, an' Ike called me to take a hand in the game overtother side the room, so I didn't know no more till I see him an'Cherry beatin' it out the side door, an' Dolphin standin' over acrostby the desk lampin' 'em with his ugly look, an' pretty quick, Dolph heslid out the other door an' was gone quite some time. When he come backCherry was with him, laughin' and makin' eyes, and vampin' away likeshe always does, an' him an' her danced a lot after that--"

A voice on the end of the wire broke in upon this amazing conversation, and Billy with difficulty adjusted his jaded mind, to the matter inhand:

"'Z'is the Chief? Say, Chief, a coupla guys stole a machine--Holes-Mowbrays--license number 6362656-W--Got that? New York tag. They're on their way over to the State Line beyond the Cross Roads. They're gonta run her in the field just beyond the woods, you know. They're gonta give a flash light signal to their pal, three winks, countthree slow, and three winks more, and then beat it. Then some guy isgonta wreck the machine. It's up to you and your men to hold themachine till I get the owner there. He don't know it's pinched yet, but I know where to find him, an' he'll have the license and canidentify it. Where'll I find you? Station House? 'Conomy? Sure! I'llbe there soon's I get'im. What's that? I? Oh, I'm just a kid thathappened to get wise. My name? Oh rats! That don't cut any ice now!You get on yer job! They must be almost there by now. I gotta beatit! Gub-bye!"

Billy was all there even if he had been up all night. He hung up with aclick, for he was anxious to hear what the men were saying. They hadfinished their glasses and were preparing to leave. The old one wasgabbling on in a querrilous gossipy tone:

"Well, it'll go hard with Mark Carter if the man dies. Everybody knowshe was here, and unless he can prove an alibi--!"

They were crawling reluctantly out of their haunts now, and Billy couldcatch but one more sentence:

"Well, I'm sorry fer his ma. I used to go to school with Mrs. Carterwhen we were kids. "

They were gone out and the room suddenly showed empty. The waiter wasfastening the shutters. In a moment more he would be locked in. Billymade a silent dash among the tables and slid out the door while thewaiter's back was turned. The two men were ambling slowly down the roadtoward Economy. Billy started on a dead run. His rubber soled shoesmade no echo and he was too light on his feet to make a thud. Hedisappeared into the grayness like a spirit. He had more cause thanever now for hurry. Mark! Mark! His beloved Mark Carter! What must hedo about it? Must he tell Mark? Or did Mark perhaps know? What hadhappened anyway? There had evidently been a shooting. That CherryFenner was mixed up in it. Billy knew her only by sight. She alwaysgrinned at him and said: "Hello, Billee!" in her pretty dimpled way. Hedidn't care for her himself. He had accepted her as a part of life, anecessary evil. She wore her hair queer, and had very short tightskirts, and high heels. She painted her face and vamped, but that washer affair. He had heretofore tolerated her because she seemed in someway to be under Mark Carter's recent protection. Therefore he hadgrowled "Ello!" grimly whenever she accosted him and let it go at that. If it had come to a show down he would have stood up for her because heknew that Mark would, that was all. Mark knew his own business. Far beit from Billy to criticize his hero's reasons. Perhaps it was one ofMark's weaknesses. It was up to him. That was the code of a "white man"as Billy had learned it from "the fellas. "

But this was a different matter. This involved Mark's honor. It was upto him to find Mark!

Billy did not take the High road down from his detour. He cut acrossbelow the Crossroads, over rough ground, among the underbrush, andparting the low growing trees was lost in the gloom of the woods. Buthe knew every inch of ground within twenty miles around, and darknessdid not take away his sense of direction. He crashed along among thebranches, making steady headway toward the spot where he had left hisbicycle, puffing and panting, his face streaked with dirt, his eyesbleared and haggard, his whole lithe young body straining forward andfighting against the dire weariness that was upon him, for it was notoften that he stayed up all night. Aunt Saxon saw to that much atleast. 

The sky was growing rosy now, and he could hear the rumbling of themilk train. It was late. Pat would not lose his job this time, for hemust have had plenty of time to get back to the station. Billy wormedhimself under cover as the train approached, and bided his time. Cautiously, peering from behind the huckleberry growth, he watched Patslamming the milk cans around. He could see his bicycle lying like adark skeleton of a thing against the gravel bank. It was lucky he gotthere before day, for Pat would have been sure to see it, and it mighthave given him an idea that Billy had gone with the automobile. 

The milk train came suddenly in sight through the tunnel, like alighted thread going through a needle. It rumbled up to the station. There was a rattling of milk cans, empty ones being put on, full cansbeing put off, grumbling of Pat at the train hands, loud retorts of thetrain hands, the engine puffed and wheezed like a fat old lady goingupstairs and stopping on every landing to rest. Then slamming of cardoors, a whistle, the snort of the engine as it took up its way againout toward the rosy sky, its headlight weird like a sick candle againstthe dawn, its tail light winking with a leer and mocking at themountains as it clattered away like a row of gray ducks lifting webbedfeet and flinging back space to the station. 

Pat rolled the loaded truck to the other platform ready for the Laketrain at seven, and went in to a much needed rest. He slammed the doorwith a finality that gave Billy relief. The boy waited a moment more inthe gathering dawn, and then made a dash for the open, salvaging hisbicycle, and diving back into the undergrowth. 

For a quarter of a mile he and the wheel like two comrades raced underbranches, and threaded their way between trees. Then he came out intothe Highroad and mounting his wheel rode into the world just as the sunshot up and touched the day with wonder. 

He rode into the silent sleeping village of Sabbath Valley just as thebells from the church chimed out gently, as bells should do on aSabbath morning when people are at rest, "One! Two! Three! Four! Five!"

Sabbath Valley looked great as he pedalled silently down the street. Even the old squeak of the back wheel seemed to be holding its breathfor the occasion. 

He coasted past the church and down the gentle incline in front of theparsonage and Joneses, and the Littles and Browns and Gibsons. Like ashadow of the night passing he slid past the Fowlers and Tiptons andDuncannons, and fastened his eyes on the little white fence with thewhite pillared gate where Mrs. Carter lived. Was that a light in thekitchen window? And the barn that Mark used for his garage when he wasat home, was the door open? He couldn't quite see for the cyringa bushhid it from the road. With a furtive glance up and down the street hewheeled in at the driveway, and rode up under the shadow of the greenshuttered white house. 

He dismounted silently, stealthily, rested his wheel against the trunkof a cherry tree, and with keen eyes for every window, glanced up tothe open one above which he knew belonged to Mark's room. Strong grimyfingers went to his lips and a low cautious whistle, more like a birdcall issued forth, musical as any wild note. 

The white muslin curtains wavered back and forth in the summer breeze, and for a moment he thought a head was about to appear for a softstirring noise had seemed to move within the house somewhere, but thecurtains swayed on and no Mark appeared. Then he suddenly was aware ofa white face confronting him at the downstairs window directly oppositeto him, white and scared and--was it accusing? And suddenly he began totremble. Not all the events of the night had made him tremble, but nowhe trembled, it was Mark's mother, and she had pink rims to her eyes, and little damp crimples around her mouth and eyes for all the worldlike Aunt Saxon's. She looked--she looked exactly as though she had notslept all night. Her nose was thin and red, and her eyes had that awfulblue that eyes get that have been much washed with tears. The softwaves of her hair drooped thinly, and the coil behind showed morethreads of silver than of brown in the morning sun that shot throughthe branches of the cherry tree. She had a frightened look, as if Billyhad brought some awful news, or as if it was his fault, he could nottell which, and he began to feel that choking sensation and thatgoneness in the pit of his stomach that Aunt Saxon always gave him whenshe looked frightened at something he had done or was going to do. Added to this was that sudden premonition, and a memory of thatdrooping still figure in the dark up on the mountain. 

Mrs. Carter sat down the candle on a shelf and raised the window:

"Is that you Billy?" she asked, and there were tears in her voice. 

Billy had a brief appalling revelation of Mothers the world over. Didall Mothers--women--act like that when they were _fools_? Fools iswhat he called them in his mind. Yet in spite of himself and his rageand trembling he felt a sudden tenderness for this crumply, tired, ghastly little pink rimmed mother, apprehensive of the worst as wasplain to see. Billy recalled like a flash the old man at the Blue Ducksaying, "I'm sorry for his ma. I used to go to school with her. " Helooked at the faded face with the pink rims and trembling lips and hada vision of a brown haired little girl at a desk, and old Si Appleby ateasing boy in the desk opposite. It came over him that some day hewould be an old man somewhere telling how he went to school--! And thenhe asked:

"Where's Mark? Up yet?"

She shook her head apprehensively, withholdingly. 

Billy had a thought that perhaps some one had beat him to it with newsfrom the Blue Duck, but he put it from him. There were tears in hereyes and one was straggling down between the crimples of her cheekswhere it looked as if she had lain on the folds of her handkerchief allnight. There came a new tenderness in his voice. This was _Mark's_mother, and this was the way she felt. Well, of course it was silly, but she was Mark's _mother_. 

"Man up the mountain had n'accident. I thought Mark ud he'p. He alwaysdoes, " explained Billy awkwardly with a feeling that he ought toaccount for his early visit. 

"Yes, of course, Mark would like to help!" purred his mother comfortedat the very thought of every day life and Mark going about as usual, "But--" and the apprehension flew into her eyes again, "He isn't home. Billy, he hasn't come home at all last night! I'm frightened to death!I've sat up all night! I can't think what's happened--! There's so manyhold-ups and Mark will carry his money loose in his trousers pocket--!"

Billy blanched but lied beautifully up to the occasion even as he wouldhave liked to have somebody lie for him to Aunt Saxon:

"Aw! That's nothing! Doncha worry. He tol' me he might have t'stay downt'Unity all night. There's a fella down there that likes him a lot, an'they had somekinduva blowout in their church last night. He mightuv hadta take some girl home out of town ya know, and stayed over with thefella. "

Mrs. Carter's face relaxed a shade:

"Yes, I've tried to think that--!"

"Well, doncha worry, Mizz Carter, I'll lookim up fer ya, I know 'boutwhere he might be. "

"Oh, thank you Billy, " her face wreathed in wavering smiles broughtanother thought of school days and life and how queer it was that grownfolks had been children sometime and children had to be grown folks. 

"Billy, Mark likes you very much. I'm sure he won't mind your knowingthat I'm worried, but you know how boys don't like to have theirmothers worry, so you needn't say anything to Mark that I said I wasworried, need you? You understand Billy. I'm not _really_ worriedyou know. Mark was always a good boy. "

"Aw sure!" said Billy with a knowing wink. "He's a prince! You leave itt'me, Mizz Carter!"

"Thank you, Billy. I'll do something for you sometime. But how's itcome you're up so early? You haven't had your breakfast yet have you?"

She eyed his weary young face with a motherly anxiety:

"Naw, I didn't have no time to stop fer breakfast, " Billy spokeimportantly, "Got this call about the sick guy and had to beat it. Say, you don't happen to know Mark's license number do you? It might help alot, savin' time 'f'I could tell his car at sight. Save stoppin' toast. "

"Well, now, I don't really--" said the woman ruminatively, "let me see. There was six and six, there were a lot of sixes if I remember--"

"Oh, well, it don't matter--" Billy grasped his wheel and prepared toleave. 

"Wait, Billy, you must have something to eat--"

"Aw, naw, I can't wait! Gotta beat it! Might miss 'im!"

"Well, just a bite. Here, I'll get you some cookies!"

She vanished, and he realized for the first time that he was hungry. Cookies sounded good. 

She returned with a brimming glass of milk and a plate of cookies. Shestuffed the cookies in his pockets, while he drank the milk. 

"Say, --" said he after a long sweet draught of the foaming milk, "Ya, aint got enny more you cud spare fer that sick guy, have ya? Wait, I'llsave this. Got a bottle?"

"Indeed you won't, Billy Gaston. You just drink that every drop. I'llget you another bottle to take with you. I got extra last night 'countof Mark being home, and then he didn't drink it. He always likes adrink of milk last thing before he goes to bed. "

She vanished and returned with a quart of milk cold off the ice. Shewrapped it well with newspapers, and Billy packed it safely into thelittle basket on his wheel. Then he bethought him of another need. 

"Say, m'y I go inta the g'rage an' get a screw driver? Screw loose onm'wheel. "

She nodded and he vanished into the open barn door. Well he knew whereMark kept his tools. He picked out a small pointed saw, a neat littleauger and a file and stowed them hurriedly under the milk bottle. Thusreinforced without and within, he mounted his faithful steed and spedaway to the hills. 

The morning sun had shot up several degrees during his delay, andSabbath Valley lay like a thing new born in its glory. On the belfry apurple dove sat glistening, green and gold ripples on her neck, turningher head proudly from side to side as Billy rode by, and when he toppedthe first hill across the valley the bells rang out six sweet strokesas if to remind him that Sunday School was not far off and he musthurry back. But Billy was trying to think how he should get into thatlocked house, and wondering whether the kidnappers would have returnedto feed their captive yet. He realized that he must be wary, althoughhis instinct told him that they would wait for dark, besides, he hadhopes that they might have been "pinched. "

Nevertheless he approached the old house cautiously, skirting themountain to avoid Pleasant Valley, and walking a mile or two throughthick undergrowth, sometimes with difficulty propelling the faithfulmachine. 

Arrived in sight he studied the surroundings carefully, harbored hiswheel where it would not be discovered and was yet easily available, and after reconnoitering stole out of covert. 

The house stood gaunt and grim against the smiling morning. Itsshuttered windows giving an expression of blindness or the repellantmask of death. A dead house, that was what it was. Its doors andwindows closed on the tragedy that had been enacted within its massivestone walls. It seemed more like a fortress than a house where warmhuman faces had once looked forth, and where laughter and pleasantwords had once sounded out. To pass it had always stirred a sense ofmystery and weirdness. To approach it thus with the intention ofentering to find that still limp figure of a man gave a mostoverpowering sense of awe. Billy looked up with wide eyes, the deepshadows under them standing out in the clear light of the morning andgiving him a strangely old aspect as if he had jumped over at least tenyears during the night. Warily he circled the house, keeping close tothe shrubbery at first and listening as a squirrel might have done, then gradually drawing nearer. He noticed that the down stairs shutterswere solid iron with a little half moon peep hole at the top. Thoseupstairs were solid below and fitted with slats above, but the slatswere closed of all the front windows, and all but two of the back ones, which were turned upward so that one could not see the glass. Thedoors, both back and front, were locked, and unshakable, of solid oakand very thick. A Yale lock with a new look gave all entrance at thefront an impossible look. The back door was equally impregnable unlesshe set to work with his auger and saw and took out a heavy oak panel. 

He got down to the ground and began to examine the cellar windows. Theyseemed to be fitted with iron bars set into the solid masonry. He wentall around the house and found each one unshakable, until he reachedthe last at the back. There he found a bit of stone cracked andloosened and it gave him an idea. He set to work with his few tools, and finally succeeded in loosening one rusted bar. He was much hinderedin his work by the necessity of keeping a constant watch out, and byhis attempts to be quiet. There was no telling when Link and Shortymight come to feed their captive and he must not be discovered. 

It was slow work picking away at the stone, filing away at the rustyiron, but the bars were so close together that three must be removedbefore he could hope to crawl through, and even then he might be ableto get no further than the cellar. The guy that fixed this house up fora prison knew what he was about. 

Faintly across the mountains came the echo of bells, or were they inthe boy's own soul? He worked away in the hot sun, the perspirationrolling down his weary dirty face, and sometimes his soul faintedwithin him. Bells, and the sweet quiet church with the pleasant dailyfaces about and the hum of Sunday School beginning! How far away thatall seemed to him now as he filed and picked, and sweated, and kept upa strange something in his soul half yearning, half fierce dread, thatmight have been like praying only the burden of its yearning seemed tobe expressed in but a single word, "Mark! Mark!"

At last the third bar came loose and with a great sigh that was almostlike a sob, the boy tore it out, and cleared the way. Then carefullygathering his effects, tools, milk bottle and cap together, he let themdown into the dungeon-like blackness of the cellar, and crept in afterthem, taking the precaution to set up in place the iron bars once moreand leave no trace of his entrance. 

Pausing cautiously to listen he ventured to strike a match, mentallybelaboring himself at the wasteful way in which he had always used hisflash light which was now so much needed and out of commission. Thecellar was large, running under the whole house, with heavy rafters andlooming coal pits. A scurrying rat started a few lumps of coal in theslide, and a cobwebby rope hung ominously from one cross beam, givinghim a passing shudder. It seemed as if the spirit of the past hadarisen to challenge his entrance thus. He took a few steps forwardtoward a dim staircase he sighted at the farther end, and then a suddennoise sent his heart beating fast. He extinguished the match and stoodin the darkness listening with straining ears. That was surely a stephe heard on the floor above!

VII

Laurence Shafton awoke late to the sound of church bells come alive andsinging hymn tunes. There was something strangely unreal in the sound, in the utter stillness of the background of Sabbath Valley atmospherethat made him think, almost, just for an instant, that he had stumbledsomehow into the wrong end of the other world, and come into the fieldsof the blessed. Not that he had any very definite idea about what thefields of the blessed would look like or what would be going on there, but there was something still and holy between the voices of the bellsthat fairly compelled his jaded young soul to sit up and listen. 

But at the first attempt to sit up a very sharp very decided twinge ofpain caught him, and brought an assorted list of words which he keptfor such occasions to his lips. Then he looked around and tried to takein the situation. It was almost as if he had been caught out of his ownworld and dropped into another universe, so different was everythinghere, and so little did he remember the happenings of the night before. He had had trouble with his car, something infernal that had preventedhis going farther--he recalled having to get out and push the thingalong the road, and then two loutish men who made game of him and senthim here to get his car fixed. There had been a man, a queer man whogave him bread and butter instead of wine--he remembered that--and hehad failed to get his car fixed, but how the deuce did he get landed onthis couch with a world of books about him and a thin muslin curtainblowing into the room, and fanning the cheeks of a lovely rose in along stemmed clear glass vase? Did he try to start and have a smash up?No, he remembered going down the steps with the intention of starting, but stay! Now it was coming to him. He fell off the porch! He must havehad a jag on or he never would have fallen. He did things to his anklein falling. He remembered the gentle giant picking him up as if he hadbeen a baby and putting him here, but where was _here_? Ah! Now heremembered! He was on his way to Opal Verrons. A bet. An elopement forthe prize! Great stakes. He had lost of course. What a fool! If ithadn't been for his ankle he might have got to a trolley car or trainsomehow and made a garage. Money would have taken him there in time. Hewas vexed that he had lost. It would have been great fun, and he hadthe name of always winning when he set out to do so. But then, perhapsit was just as well--Verrons was a good fellow as men went--he likedhim, and he was plain out and out fond of Opal just at present. Itwould have been a dirty shame to play the trick behind his back. Still, if Opal wanted to run away with him it was up to him to run of course. Opal was rare sport and he couldn't stand the idea of Smart-AleckMcMarter, or that conceited Percy Emerson getting there first. Hewondered which had won. It made his fury rise to think of either, andhe had promised the lady neither of them should. What was she thinkingof him by now that he had sent her no word of his delay? That wasinexcusable. He must attend to it at once. 

He glanced around the pleasant room. Yes, there on the desk was atelephone! Could he get to it? He sat up and painfully edged his wayover to the desk. 

 "Safely through another week, God has brought us on our way--"

chimed the bells, "Let us now a blessing seek, Waiting in His courts to-day--"

But Laurie Shafton had never sung those words in his life and had noidea what the bells were seeking to get across to him. He took down thereceiver and called for Long Distance. 

 "Oh day of rest and gladness!"

pealed out the bells joyously, "Oh day of joy and light! Oh balm for care and sadness, Most beautiful, most bright--"

But it meant nothing to Laurie Shafton seeking a hotel in a fashionableresort. And when he finally got his number it was only Opal's maid whoanswered. 

"Yes, Mrs. Verrons was up. She was out walking on the beach with agentleman. No, it was not Mr. Emerson, nor yet Mr. McMarter. Neither ofthose gentlemen had arrived. No, it was not Mr. Verrons. He had justtelegraphed that he would not be at the hotel until tomorrow night. Yes, she would tell Mrs. Verrons that he had met with an accident. Mrs. Verrons would be very sorry. Number one-W Sabbath Valley. Yes, shewould write it down. What? Oh! The gentleman Mrs. Verrons was walkingwith? No, it was not anybody that had been stopping at the hotel forlong, it was a new gentleman who had just come the night before. Shehadn't heard his name yet. Yes, she would be sure to tell Mrs. Verronsat once when she came in, and Mrs. Verrons would be likely to call himup!"

He hung up the receiver and looked around the room discontentedly. Astinging twinge of his ankle added to his discomfort. He gave an angrysnarl and pushed the wavering curtain aside, wishing those everlastingbells would stop their banging. 

Across the velvet stretch of lawn the stone church nestled among thetrees, with a background of mountains, and a studding of whitegravestones beyond its wide front steps. It was astonishinglybeautiful, and startlingly close for a church. He had not been so nearto a church except for a wedding in all his young life. Dandy place fora wedding that would be, canopy over the broad walk from the street, charming architecture, he liked the line of the arched belfry and theslender spire above. The rough stone fitted well into the scenery. Thechurch seemed to be a thing of the ages placed there by Nature. Hismind trained to detect a sense of beauty in garments, rugs, pictures, and women, appreciated the picture on which he was gazing. Where wasthis anyway? Surely not the place with the absurd name that heremembered now on the mountain Detour. Sabbath Valley! How ridiculous!It must be the home of some wealthy estate, and yet there seemed arustic loveliness about it that scarcely established that theory. 

The bells had ceased. He heard the roll of a deep throated organskillfully played. 

And now, his attention was suddenly attracted to the open window of thechurch where framed in English ivy a lovely girl sat at the organ. Shewas dressed in white with hair of gold, and a golden window somewhereback of her across the church, made a background of beaten gold againstwhich her delicate profile was set like some young saint. Her whitefingers moving among the keys, and gradually he came to realize that itwas she who had been playing the bells. 

He stared and stared, filled with admiration, thrilled with this newexperience in his blase existence. Who would have expected to find abeauty like that in a little out of the way place like this? His theoryof a great estate and a rich man's daughter with a fad for musicinstantly came to the front. What a lucky happening that he should havebroken down close to this church. He would find out who the girl wasand work it to get invited up to her house. Perhaps he was a fortunateloser of his bet after all. 

As he watched the girl playing gradually the music entered hisconsciousness. He was fond of music, and had heard the best of theworld of course. This was meltingly lovely. The girl had fineappreciation and much expression, even when the medium of her melodywas clumsy things like bells. She had seemed to make them glad as theypealed out their melodies. He had not known bells could sound likehappy children, or like birds. 

His meditations were interrupted by a tap on the door, followed by theentrance of his host bearing a tray:

"Good-morning, " he said pleasantly, "I see you're up. How is thesprain? Better? Would you like me to dress it again?"

He came over to the desk and set down the tray on which was beautifullybrown buttered toast, eggs and coffee:

"I've brought you just a bite. It's so late you won't want much, for wehave dinner immediately after church. I suppose you wouldn't feel likegoing over to the service?"

"Service?" the young man drawled almost insolently. 

"Yes, service is at eleven. Would you care to go over? I could assistyou. "

"Naw, I shouldn't care to go, " he answered rudely, "I'm pulling out ofhere as soon as I can get that machine of mine running. By the way, I've been doing some telephoning"--he slung a ten dollar note on thedesk. "I didn't ask how much it was, guess that'll cover it. Now, helpme to the big chair and I'll sample your breakfast. "

The minister picked up the young man easily and placed him in the bigchair before the guest realized what was doing, and then turned andtook the ten dollar bill between his thumb and finger and flipped itdown in the young man's lap. 

"Keep it, " he said briefly, "It's of no consequence. " "But it was longdistance, " explained the guest loftily, "It'll be quite a sum. I talkedovertime. "

"No matter, " said the minister pulling out a drawer of the desk andgathering a few papers and his Bible. "Now, would you like me to lookat that ankle before I go, or will you wait for the doctor? He's likelyto be back before long, and I've left a call for him. "

"I'll wait for the doctor, " the young man's tone approached theinsolent note again, "and by the way, I wish you'd send for amechanician. I've got to get that car running. "

"I'm sorry, " said Severn, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait. The only onein this region that would be at all likely to help you out with thosebearings is Carter. He has a car, or had one, of that make. He mighthappen to have some bearings, but it is not at all likely. Or, he couldtow you ten miles to Monopoly. But Carter is not at home yet. "

The young man fairly frothed at the mouth: "Do you mean to tell me thatthere is no one can mend a broken machine around this forsaken dump?Where's your nearest garage? Send for a man to come at once. I'mwilling to pay anything, " he flourished a handful of bills. 

The minister looked at his watch anxiously: "I'm sorry, " he said again, "I've got to go to the service now. There is a garage at Monopoly andtheir number is 97-M. You can phone them if you are not satisfied. Itried them quite early this morning while you were still sleeping, butthere was nothing doing. The truth is the people around this region area little prejudiced against working seven days out of the week, although they will help a man out in a case like yours when they can, but it seems the repair man, the only one who knows about bearings, hasgone fifty miles in another direction to a funeral and won't be backtill to-morrow morning. Now, if you're quite comfortable I'll have toleave you for a little while. It is time for my service to begin. "

The young man looked at his host with astonishment. He was not used tobeing treated in this off-hand way. He could hardly believe his ears. Throw back his money and lay down the law that way!

"Wait!" he thundered as the door was about to close upon the departingminister. 

Severn turned and regarded his guest quietly, questioningly:

"Who's that girl over there in the window playing the organ?" He pulledthe curtain aside and revealed a glimpse of the white and gold saintframed in the ivy. Severn gave a swift cold glance at the insolentyouth and then answered with a slightly haughty note in his courteousvoice, albeit a quiver of amusement on his lip:

"That is my daughter. "

Laurence Shafton dropped the curtain and turned to stare at his host, but the minister had closed the door and was already on his way tochurch. Then the youth pulled back the curtain again and regarded thelady. The man's daughter! And playing like that!

The rich notes of the organ were rolling out into the summer day, awonderful theme from an old master, grandly played. Yes, she couldplay. She had been well taught. And the looks of her! She was wonderfulat this distance. Were these then wealthy people perhaps summering inthis quiet resort? He glanced about at the simple furnishings. That wasa good rug at his feet, worn in places, but soft in tone andunmistakably of the Orient. The desk was of fumed oak, somewhat massiveand dignified with a touch of hand carving. The chairs were of the samedark oak with leather cushions, and the couch so covered by his beddrapery that he could not see it, but he remembered its comfort. Therewas nothing showy or expensive looking but everything simple and good. One or two fine old pictures on the wall gave evidence of good taste. The only luxury seemed books, rows and rows of them behind glass doorsin cases built into the wall. They lined each space between windows anddoors, and in several spots reached to the ceiling. He decided thatthese people must have had money and lost it. These things were old andhad perhaps been inherited. But the girl! She teased his curiosity. Sheseemed of a type entirely new, and most attractive. Well, here was goodluck again! He would stay till church was out and see what she might belike at nearer view. It might amuse him to play the invalid for a dayor two and investigate her. Meantime, he must call up that garage andsee what could be done for the car. If he could get it patched up bynoon he might take the girl out for a spin in the afternoon. One couldjudge a girl much better getting her off by herself that way. He didn'tseem to relish the memory of that father's smile and haughty tone as hesaid "My daughter. " Probably was all kinds of fussy about her. But ifthe girl had any pep at all she surely would enjoy getting away fromoversight for a few hours. He hoped Opal would call before they gotback from their service. It might be awkward talking with them allaround. 

But the organ was suddenly drowned in a burst of song:

 "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost, As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be--world without end, Amen!"

Somehow the words struck him with a strange awe, they were so distinct, and almost in the room with him. He looked about half feeling that theroom was filled with people, and felt curiously alone. There was anatmosphere in the little house of everybody being gone to church. Theyhad all gone and left him alone. It amused him. He wondered about thisodd family who seemed to be under the domination of a church service. They had left him a stranger alone in their house. The doors andwindows were all open. How did they know but he was a burglar?

Some one was talking now. It sounded like the voice of his host. Itmight be a prayer. How peculiar! He must be a preacher. Yet he had beensent to him to fix his car. He did not look like a laboring man. Helooked as if he might be, --well almost anything--even a gentleman. Butif he was a clergyman, why, that of course explained the ascetic type, the nun-like profile of the girl, the skilled musician. Clergymen wereapt to educate their children, even without much money. The girl wouldprobably be a prude and bore, but there was a chance that she might bea princess in disguise and need a prince to show her a good time. Hewould take the chance at least until after dinner. 

So he ate his delicate toast, and drank his delicious coffee, andwished he had asked that queer man to have his flask filled at the drugstore before he went to his old service, but consoled himself withnumerous cigarettes, while he watched the face of the musician, andlistened idly to the music. 

It was plain that the young organist was also the choir leader, for herexpressive face was turned toward the singers, and her lovely head kepttime. Now and then a motion of the hand seemed to give a direction orwarning. And the choir too sang with great sweetness and expression. They were well trained. But what a bore such a life must be to a girl. Still, if she had never known anything else--! Well, he would like tosee her at closer range. He lit another cigarette and studied herprofile as she slipped out of the organ bench and settled herselfnearer the window. He could hear the man's voice reading now. Some ofthe words drew his idle attention:

 "All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the Lord weigheth the spirits. "

Curious sentence that! It caught in his brain. It seemed rather true. From the Bible probably of course, though he was not very familiar withthat volume, never having been obliged to go to Sunday School in hischildhood days? But was it true? Were all a man's ways clean in his owneyes? Take, for instance, his own ways? He always did about as hepleased, and he had never asked himself whether his ways were clean ornot. He hadn't particularly cared. He supposed some people would thinkthey were not--but in his own eyes, well--was he clean? Take forinstance this expedition of his? Running a race to get another man'swife, --an alleged friend's wife, too? It did seem rather despicablewhen one thought of it after the jag was off. But then one was notquite responsible for what one did with a jag on, and what the deucedid the Lord have to do with it anyway? How could the Lord weigh thespirit? That meant of course that he saw through all subterfuges. Well, what of it?

Another sentence caught his ear:

 "When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him. "

How odd, the Lord, --if there was a Lord, he had never thought muchabout it--but how odd, if there was a Lord for Him to care about aman's ways. If he were Lord he wouldn't care, he'd only want them tokeep out of his way. He would probably crush them like ants, if he wereLord. But the Lord--taking any notice of men's ways, and being pleasedby them and looking out to protect him from enemies! It certainly wasquaint--a quaint idea! He glanced again at the reverent face of thegirl, the down drooped eyes, the lovely sensitive mouth. Quaint, thatwas the word for her, quaint and unusual. He certainly was going toenjoy meeting her. 

"Ting-aling-ling-ling!" burst out the telephone bell on the desk. Hefrowned and dropped the curtain. Was that Opal? He hobbled to the deskpainfully, half annoyed that she had called him from the contemplationof this novel scene, not so sure that he would bother to call up thatgarage yet. Let it go till he had sampled the girl. 

He took down the receiver and Opal's voice greeted him, mockingly, tauntingly from his own world. The little ivy leaved church with itsSaint Cecilia at the organ, and its strange weird message about a Godthat cared for man's ways, dropped away like a dream that was past. 

When he hung up the receiver and turned back to his couch again thegirl had closed the window. It annoyed him. He did not know how hisgiddy badinage had clashed in upon the last words of the sermon. 

It seemed a long time after the closing hymn before the little throngmelted away down the maple lined street. The young man watched themcuriously from behind his curtain, finding only food for amusement inmost of them. And then came the minister, lingering to talk to one hereand there, and his wife--it was undoubtedly his wife, even thehare-brained Laurie knew her, in the gray organdie, with the whiteat her neck, and the soft white hat. She had a pleasant light in hereyes, and one saw at once that she was a lady. There was a graceabout her that made the girl seem possible. And lastly, came the girl. 

She stepped from the church door in her white dress and simple whitehat, white even to her little shoes, and correct in every way, he couldsee that. She was no country gawk! She came forth lightly into thesunshine which caught her hair in golden tendrils around her face as ifit loved to hide therein, and she was immediately surrounded by half adozen urchins. One had brought her some lilies, great white starrythings with golden hearts, and she gathered them into her arms as ifshe loved them, and smiled at the boys. One could see how they adoredher. She lingered talking to them, and laid her hand on one boy'sshoulder, he walking like a knight beside her trying to act as if hedid not know her hand was there. His head was drooped, but he lifted itwith a grin at last and gave her a nod which seemed to make her glad, for her face broke forth in another smile:

"Well, don't forget, to-night, " she called as they turned to go, "andremember to tell Billy!"

Then she came trippingly across the grass, a song on her lips. Somegirl! Say! She certainly was a stunner!

VIII

Opal Verrons was small and slight with large childlike eyes that couldlook like a baby's, but that could hold the very devil on occasions. The eyes were dark and lustrous with long curling black lashes framingthem in a face that might have been modeled for an angel, so round thecurves, so enchanting the lips, so lofty the white brow. Angelé Potockahad no lovelier set to her head, no more limpal fire in her eye, thanhad Opal Verrons. Indeed her lovers often called her the Fire Opal. Theonly difference was that Angelé Potocka developed her brains, of whichshe had plenty, while Opal Verrons had placed her entire care upondeveloping her lovely little body, though she too had plenty of brainson occasion. 

And she knew how to dress! So simply, so slightly sometimes, soperfectly to give a setting--the right setting--to her little self. Shewore her heavy dark hair bobbed, and it curled about her small headexquisitely, giving her the look of a Raphael Cherub or a boy page inthe court of King Arthur. With a flat band of silver olive leaves abouther brow, and the soft hair waving out below, nothing more wasnecessary for a costume save a brief drapery of silver spangled clothwith a strap of jewels and a wisp of black malines for a scarf. She wasalways startling and lovely even in her simplest costume. Many peopleturned to watch her in a simple dark blue serge made like a child'sgirded with a delicate arrangement of medallions and chains of whitemetal, her dark rough woollen stockings rolled girlishly below whitedimpled knees, and her feet shod in flat soled white buckskin shoes. She was young enough to "get away with it, " the older women saidcattishly as they watched her stroll away to the beach with a new maneach day, and noted her artless grace and indifferent pose. That shehad a burly millionaire husband who still was under her spell andwatched her jealously only made her more interesting, and they pitiedher for being tied to a man twice her age and bulky as a bale ofcotton. She who could dance like a sylph and was light on her littlefeet as a thistle down. Though wise ones sometimes said that Opal hadher young eyes wide open when she married Ed Verrons, and she had himright under her little pink well manicured thumb. And some said she wasnot nearly so young as she looked. 

Her hands were the weakest point in Opal Verron's whole outfit. Notthat they were unlovely in form or ungraceful. They were so small theyhardly seemed like hands, so undeveloped, so useless, with the dimplingof a baby's, yet the sharp nails of a little beast. They were so plumpand well cared for they were fairly sleek, and had an old wise airabout them as she patted her puffy curls daintily with a motion all herown that showed her lovely rounded arm, and every needle-pointedshell-tinted finger nail, sleek and puffy, and never used, not evenfor a bit of embroidery or knitting. She couldn't, you know, with thosesharp transparent little nails, they might break. They were like herlittle sharp teeth that always reminded one of a mouse's teeth, andmade one shudder at how sharp they would be should she everdecide to bite. 

But her smile was like the mixing of all smiles, a baby's, a woman-of-the-world, a grieved child's, and a spirit who had put aside all moralpurpose. Perhaps, like mixed drinks it was for that reason but the moreintoxicating. And because she did not hide her charms and was lavishwith her smiles, there were more poor victims about her little feetthan about any other woman at the shore that summer. Men talked abouther in the smoking rooms and billiard rooms and compared her to vampsof other seasons, and decided she had left them all in the shade. Shewas a perfect production of the modern age, more perfect than othersbecause she knew how to do the boldest things with that cherubic airthat bereft sin of its natural ugliness and made it beautiful anddelicious, as if degradation had suddenly become an exalted thing, likesome of the old rites in a Pagan Temple, and she a lovely priestess. And when each new folly was over there was she with her innocent babyair, and her pure childlike face that looked dreamily out from itsframe of little girl hair, and seemed not to have been soiled at all. And so men who played her games lost their sense of sin and fell thatmuch lower than those who sin and know it and are afraid to lookthemselves in the face. When a man loses his sense of shame, of beingamong the pigs, he is in a far country indeed. 

But Opal Verrons sauntering forth to the Hotel piazza in company withthree of her quondam admirers suddenly lost her luxurious air ofnestling content. The hotel clerk handed her two telegrams as shepassed the desk. She tore them open carelessly, but her eyes grew widewith horror as she read. 

Percy Emerson had been arrested. He had run over a woman and a baby andboth were in a hospital in a critical condition. He would be heldwithout bail until it was seen whether they lived. 

She drew in her breath with a frightened gasp and bit at her red lipwith her little sharp teeth. A pretty child with floating curls anddainty apparel ran laughing across her way, its hand outstretched to atiny white dog that was dancing after her, and Opal gave a sharp cryand tore the telegram into small bits. But when she opened the secondmessage her face paled under its delicate rouge as she read: "MortimerMcMarter killed in an accident when his car collided with a truck. Hisbody lies at Saybrook Inn. We find your address on his person, with arequest to let you know if anything happens to him. What do you wishdone with the body?"

Those who watched her face as she read say that it took on an ashencolor and she looked years older. Her real spirit seemed to be lookingforth from those wide limpid eyes for an instant, the spirit of acoward who had been fooling the world; the spirit of a lost soul whohad grown old in sin; the spirit of a soul who had stepped over thebounds and sinned beyond her depth. 

She looked about upon them all, stricken, appalled, --not sorry but justafraid, --and not for her friends, but for herself! And then she gave ahorrid little lost laugh and dropping the telegram as if it had burnedher, she flung out her voice upon them with a blaze in her big eyes anda snarl in her lute-voice:

"Well, I wasn't to blame was I? They all were grown men, weren't they?It was up to them. _I'm_ going to get out of here! This is an_awful_ place!"

She gave a shudder and turning swiftly fled to the elevator, catchingit just as the door was being shut, and they saw her rising behind theblack and gold grating and waving a mocking little white hand at themas they watched her amazed. Then one of them stooped and picked up thetelegram. And while they still stood at the doorway wondering some onepointed to a brilliant blue car that was sliding down the avenue acrossthe beach road. 

"She has gone!" they said looking at one another strangely. Did shereally care then?

 * * * * *

The dinner at Sabbath Valley parsonage was a good one. It was quitedifferent from any dinner Laurie Shafton had ever eaten before. It hada taste that he hadn't imagined just plain chicken and mashed potatoesand bread and butter and coffee and cherry pie could have. 

Those were things he seldom picked out from a menu, and he met them assomething new and delicious, prepared in this wonderful country way. 

Also the atmosphere was queer and interesting. 

The minister had helped him into the dining-room, a cheery room with abay window looking toward the church and a window box of nasturtiums inwhich the bees hummed and buzzed. 

The girl came in and acknowledged the casual introduction of her fatherwith a quite sophisticated nod and sat down across from him. And therewas a _prayer_ at the beginning of the meal! Just as he was aboutto say something graceful to the girl, there was a _prayer_. Itwas almost embarrassing. He had never seen one before like this. At aboarding school once he had experienced a thing they called "grace"which consisted in standing behind their chairs while the entireassembled hungry multitude repeated a poem of a religious nature. Heremembered they used to spend their time making up parodies on it--oneran something about "this same old fish upon my plate, " and rhymed with"hate. " He stared at the lovely bowed hair of the girl across the tablewhile it was going on, and got ready a remark calculated to draw hersmiles, but the girl lifted eyes that seemed so far away he felt asthough she did not see him, and he contented himself with replying tohis host's question something about the part of the chicken he likedbest. It was a queer home to him, it seemed so intimate. Even thechicken seemed to be a detail of their life together, perhaps becausethere was only one chicken, and one breast. Where he dwelt there werecountless breasts, and everybody had a whole breast if he wanted it, ora whole chicken for the matter of that. Here they had to stop and askwhat others liked before they chose for themselves. This analysis wentqueerly on in his mind while he sat waiting for his plate and wonderingover the little things they were talking about. Mrs. Severn said MissSaxon had been crying all through church, and she told her Billy hadbeen away all night. She was awfully worried about his going with thatbaseball team. 

A fleeting shadow passed over the girl's face:

"Billy promised me he would be there to-day, " she said thoughtfully, "something must have happened. I don't think Billy was with thebaseball team--" then her eyes travelled away out the window to thedistant hills, she didn't seem to see Laurence Shafton at all. It was anew experience for him. He was fairly good looking and knew it. 

Who the deuce was this Billy? And what did she care about Miss Saxoncrying? Did she care so much for Billy already? Would it be worth hiswhile to make her uncare?

"Mrs. Carter wasn't out, " said Mrs. Severn as she poured coffee, "Ihope she's not having more trouble with her neuralgia. "

The minister suddenly looked up from his carving:

"Did Mark come back yesterday, Marilyn?"

The girl drew a quick breath and brought back her eyes from the hills, but she did not look at the young man: "No, father he didn't come. "

Who the deuce was _Mark_? Of course there would be several, butthere was always _one_. Billy and Mark! It was growing interesting. 

But Billy and Mark were not mentioned again, though a deep gravityseemed to have settled into the eyes of the family since their nameshad come up. Laurie decided to speak of the weather and the roads:

"Glorious weather we're having, " he chirped out condescendingly, "Butyou certainly have the limit for roads. What's the matter with thehighway? Had a Detour right in the best part of the road. Bridge down, it said, road flooded! Made the deuce of a time for me--!"

"Bridge?" remarked Marilyn looking up thoughtfully. 

"Flood?" echoed the minister sharply. 

"Yes. About two miles back where the highway crosses this valley. Putme in some fix. Had a bet on you know. Date with a lady. Staked a lotof money on winning, too. Hard luck, " Then he looked across atMarilyn's attentive face. Ah! He was getting her at last! More on thatline. 

"But it'll not be all loss, " he added gallantly with a gesture ofadmiration toward her, "You see I didn't have any idea I was going tomeet _you_. "

But Marilyn's eyes were regarding him soberly, steadily, analytically, without an answering smile. It was as if she did not like what he hadsaid--if indeed she had heard it at all--as if she were offended at it. Then the eyes look on an impersonal look and wandered thoughtfully tothe mountains in the distance. Laurie felt his cheeks burn. He feltalmost embarrassed again, like during the prayer. Didn't the girl knowhe was paying her a compliment? Or was she such a prude that shethought him presuming on so slight an acquaintance? Her father wasspeaking:

"I don't quite understand, " 'he said thoughtfully. "There is no bridgewithin ten miles, and nothing to flood the road but the Creek, whichnever was known to overflow its banks more than a few feet at most. Thehighway is far above the valley. You must have been a bit turnedaround. "

The young man laughed lightly:

"Well, perhaps I had a jag on. I'm not surprised. I'd been driving forhours and had to drink to keep my nerve till morning. There were somedandy spilling places around those mountain curves. One doesn't care tolook out and see when one is driving at top speed. "

Heavens! What had he said now? The girl's eyes came round to look himover again and went through to his soul like a lightning flash and awayagain, and there was actually scorn on her lips. He must take anotherline. He couldn't understand this haughty country beauty in the least. 

"I certainly did enjoy your music, " he flashed forth with a little ofhis own natural gaiety in his voice that made him so universal afavorite. 

The girl turned gravely toward him and surveyed him once more as if shewere surprised and perhaps had not done him justice. She looked likeone who would always be willing to do one justice. He felt encouraged:

"If it hadn't been for this blamed foot of mine I'd have hobbled overto the--service. I was sorry not to hear the music closer. "

"There is another service this evening, " she said pleasantly, "Perhapsfather can help you over. It is a rather good organ for so small aone. " She was trying to be polite to him. It put him on his metal. Itmade him remember how rude he had been to her father the night before. 

"Delightful organ I'm sure, " he returned, "but it was the organist thatI noticed. One doesn't often hear such playing even on a good organ. "

"Oh, I've been well taught, " said the girl without self-consciousness. "But the children are to sing this evening. You'll like to hear thechildren I'm sure. They are doing fairly well now. "

"Charmed, I'm sure, " he said with added flattery of his eyes which shedid not take at all because she was passing her mother's plate for moregravy. How odd not to have a servant pass it!

"You come from New York?" the host hazarded. 

"Yes, " drawled the youth, "Shafton's my name, Laurence Shafton, son ofWilliam J. , of Shafton and Gates you know, " he added impressively. 

The host was polite but unimpressed. It was almost as though he hadnever heard of William J. Shafton the multi-millionaire. Or was it?Dash the man, he had such a way with him of acting as though he kneweverything and _nothing_ impressed him; as though he was just asgood as the next one! As though his father was something even greaterthan a millionaire! He didn't seem to be in the least like Laurie'sidea of a clergyman. He couldn't seem to get anywhere with him. 

The talk drifted on at the table, ebbing and flowing about the twoladies as the tide touches a rising strand and runs away. The girl andher mother answered his questions with direct steady gaze, and politephrases, but they did not gush nor have the attitude of taking himeagerly into their circle as he was accustomed to being taken inwherever he went. Nothing he said seemed to reach further than kindlyhospitality. When that was fulfilled they were done and went back totheir own interests. 

Marilyn did not seem to consider the young man a guest of hers in anysense personally. After the dinner she moved quietly out to the porchand seated herself in a far chair with a leather bound book, perhaps aBible, or prayer book. He wasn't very familiar with such things. Shetook a little gold pencil from a chain about her neck and made notes ona bit of paper from what she read, and she joined not at all in theconversation unless she was spoken to, and then her thoughts seemed tobe elsewhere. It was maddening. 

Once when a tough looking little urchin went by with a grin she flewdown off the porch to the gate to talk with him; she stood there sometime in earnest converse. What could a girl like that find to say to amere kid? When she came back there was a look of trouble in her eyes, and by and by her father asked if Harry had seen _Billy, _ and sheshook her head with a cloud on her brow. It must be _Billy_ then. Billy was the one! Well, dash him! If he couldn't go one better thanBilly he would see! Anyhow Billy didn't have a sprained ankle, and aplace in the family! A girl like that was worth a few days' invalidism. His ankle didn't hurt much since the minister had dressed it again. Hebelieved he could get up and walk if he liked, but he did not mean to. He meant to stay here a few days and conquer this young beauty. It waslikely only her way of vamping a man, anyway, and a mighty tantalizingone at that. Well, he would show her! And he would show Billy, too, whoever Billy was! A girl like that! Why, --A girl like that with a facelike that would grace any gathering, any home! He had the fineness oftaste to realize that after he got done playing around with Opal andwomen like her, this would be a lady any one would be proud to settledown to. And why not? If he chose to fall in love with a countrynobody, why could'nt he? What was the use of being Laurie Shafton, sonof the great William J. Shafton, if he couldn't marry whom he would?Shafton would be enough to bring any girl up to par in any society inthe universe. So Laurie Shafton set himself busily to be agreeable. 

And presently his opportunity arrived. Mrs. Severn had gone in thehouse to take a nap, and the minister had been called away to see asick man. The girl continued to study her little book:

"I wish you would come and amuse me, " he said in the voice of aninteresting invalid. 

The girl looked up and smiled absently:

"I'm sorry, " she said, "but I have to go to my Sunday-school class in afew minutes, and I was just getting my lesson ready. Would you like meto get you something to read?"

"No, " he answered crossly. He was not used to being crossed in anydesire by a lady, "I want you to talk to me. Bother the Sunday-school!Give them a vacation to-day and let them go fishing. They'll bedelighted, I'm sure. You have a wonderful foot. Do you know it? Youmust be a good dancer. Haven't you a victrola here? We might dance ifonly my foot weren't out of commission. "

"I don't dance, Mr. Shafton, and it is the Sabbath, " she smiledindulgently with her eyes on her book. 

"Why don't you dance? I could teach you easily. And what has theSabbath got to do with it?"

"But I don't care to dance. It doesn't appeal to me in the least. Andthe Sabbath has everything to do with it. If I did dance I would not doit to-day. "

"But why?" he asked in genuine wonder. 

"Because this is the day set apart for enjoying God and not enjoyingourselves. "

He stared. 

"You certainly are the most extraordinary young woman I ever met, " hesaid admiringly, "Did no one ever tell you that you are verybeautiful. "

She gave him the benefit of her beautiful eyes then in a cold amusedglance:

"Among my friends, Mr. Shafton, it is not considered good form to saysuch things to a lady of slight acquaintance. " She rose and gathered upher book and hat that lay on the floor beside her chair, and drewherself up till she seemed almost regal. 

Laurie Shafton stumbled to his feet. He was ashamed. He felt almost ashe had felt once when he was caught with a jag on being rude to afriend of his mother's:

"I beg your pardon, " he said gracefully, "I hope you will believe me, Imeant no harm. "

"It is no matter, " said the girl graciously, "only I do not like it. Now you must excuse me. I see my class are gathering. "

She put the hat on carelessly, with a push and a pat and slipped pasthim down the steps and across the lawn. Her dress brushed against hisfoot as she went and it seemed like the touch of something ethereal. Henever had felt such an experience before. 

She walked swiftly to a group of boys, ugly, uncomely, overgrown kids, the same who had followed her after church, and met them witheagerness. He felt a jealous chagrin as he watched them follow her intothe church, an anger that she dared to trample upon him that way, afierce desire to get away and quaff the cup of admiration at the handof some of his own friends, or to quaff some cup, _any_ cup, forhe was thirsty, thirsty, _thirsty_, and this was a dry and barrenland. If he did stay and try to win this haughty country beauty hewould have to find a secret source of supply somewhere or he neverwould be able to live through it. 

The Sunday-school hour wore away while he was planning how to revengehimself, but she did not return. She lingered for a long time on thechurch steps talking with those everlasting kids again, and after theywere gone she went back into the church and began to play low, sweetmusic. 

It was growing late. Long red beams slanted down the village streetacross the lawn, lingered and went out. A single ruby burned on one ofthe memorial windows like a lamp, and went purple and then gray. It wasgrowing dusk, and that girl played on! Dash it all! Why didn't shequit? It was wonderful music, but he wanted to talk to her. If hehobbled slowly could he get across that lawn? He decided to try. Andthen, just as he rose and steadied himself by the porch pillar, downthe street in a whirl of dust and noisy claxon there came a great bluecar and drew up sharp in front of the door, while a lute-like voiceshouted gaily: "Laurie, Laurie Shafton, is that you?"

IX

After Billy had listened a long time he took a single step to relievehis cramped toes, which were numb with the tensity of his strainedposition. Stealthily as he could he moved his shoe, but it seemed togrind loudly upon the cement floor of the cellar, and he stopped frozenin tensity again to listen. After a second he heard a low growl as ifsomeone outside the house were speaking. Then all was still. After atime he heard the steps again, cautiously, walking over his head, andhis spine seemed to rise right up and lift him, as he stood trembling. He wasn't a bit superstitious, Billy wasn't. He knew there was no suchthing as a ghost, and he wasn't going to be fooled by any noiseswhatsoever, but anybody would admit it was an unpleasant position to bein, pinned in a dark unfamiliar cellar without a flash light, and stepscoming overhead, where only a dead man or a doped man was supposed tobe. He cast one swift glance back at the cobwebby window through whichhe had so recently arrived, and longed to be back again, out in theopen with the bells, the good bells sounding a call in his ears. If hewere out wouldn't he run? Wouldn't he even leave his old bicycle to anyfate and _run_? But no! He couldn't! He would have to come backinevitably. Whoever was upstairs in that house alone and in peril hemust save. Suppose--!--His heart gave a great dry sob within him and heturned away from the dusty exit that looked so little now and soinadequate for sudden flight. 

The steps went on overhead shuffling a little louder, as they seemedfurther off. They were climbing the stair he believed. They wore rubberheels! _Link_ had worn rubber heels! And Shorty's shoes werecovered with old overshoes! Had they come back, perhaps to hide fromtheir pursuers? His heart sank. If that were so he must get out somehowand go after the police, but that should be his last resort. He didn'twant to get any one else in this scrape until he knew exactly what sortof a scrape it was. It wasn't square to anybody--not square to thedoped man, not square to himself, not even square to Pat and the othertwo, and--yes, he must own it, --not square to _Cart_. That was hisfirst consideration, Cart! He must find Cart. But first he must findout somehow who that man was that had been kidnapped. 

It seemed an age that he waited there in the cellar and everything sostill. Once he heard a door far up open, and little shuffling noises, and by and by he could not stand it any longer. Getting down softly onall fours, he crept slowly, noiselessly over to the cellar stairs, andbegan climbing, stopping at every step to listen. His efforts were muchhampered by the milk bottle which kept dragging down to one side andthreatening to hit against the steps. But he felt that milk wasessential to his mission. He dared not go without it. The tools were inhis other pocket. They too kept catching in his sleeve as he movedcautiously. At last he drew himself to the top step. There was a crackof light under the door. Suppose it should be locked? He could saw outa panel, but that would make a noise, and he still had the feeling thatsomeone was in that house. A cellar was not a nice place in which to betrapped. One bottle of milk wouldn't keep him alive very long. Thehaunted house was a great way from anywhere. Even the bells couldn'tcall him from there, once anybody chose to fasten him in the cellar, and find the loose window and fasten it up--!

Such thoughts poured a torrent of hot fire through his brain while hiscold fingers gripped the door knob, and slowly, fiercely, compellingly, made it turn in its socket till its rusty old spring whined incomplaint, and then he held his breath to listen again. It seemed anage before he dared put any weight upon that unlatched door to see ifit would move, and then he did it so cautiously that he was not sure itwas opening till a ray of light from a high little window shot into hiseyes and blinded him. He held the knob like a vise, and it was anotherage before he dared slowly release the spring and relax his hand. Thenhe looked around. He found himself in a kind of narrow butler's pantrywith a swinging door opposite him into the room at the back, and anarrow passage leading around the corner next the door. He peekedcautiously, blinkingly round the door jamb and saw the lower step ofwhat must be back stairs. There were no back stairs in Aunt Saxon'shouse, but before his mother died Billy Gaston had lived in the citywhere they always had back stairs. That door before him likely led tothe dining-room. He took a careful step, pushed the swing door half aninch and satisfied himself that was the kitchen at the back. No onethere. Another step or two gave him the same assurance about thedining-room and no one there. He surveyed the distance to the foot ofthe back stairs. It seemed long. What he was afraid of was that lightspace at the foot of those stairs. He was almost sure there was a hallstraight through to the front door, and he had a hunch that that frontdoor was open. If he passed the steps and anyone was there they wouldsee him, and yet he wanted to get up those stairs now, right away, before anything more happened. It was too still up there to suit him. With trembling fingers he untied his shoe strings, and slipped off hisshoes, knotting the strings together and slinging the shoes around hisneck. He was taking no chances. He gripped the revolver with one handand stole out cautiously. When he reached the end of the dining-roomwall he applied an eye toward the opening of light, and behold it wasas he had suspected, a hall leading straight through to the front door, and Shorty, with his full length profile cut clear against the morning, standing on the upper step keeping lookout! He dodged back and caughthis breath, then made a noiseless dart toward those stairs. If Shortyheard, or if he turned and saw anything he must have thought it was thereported ghost walking, so silently and like a breath passed Billy upthe stair. But when he was come to the top, he held his breath again, for now he could distinctly hear steps walking about in the room closeat hand, and peering up he saw the door was open part way. He pausedagain to reconnoitre and his heart set up an intolerable pounding inhis breast. 

He could dimly make out the back of a chair, and further against apatch of light where the back window must be he could see the footboard of a bed, the head of which must be against the opposite wall Thedoor was open about a third of the way. There was a key in the lock. Did that mean that they locked the man in? It would be a great thing toget hold of that key!

A moan in the direction of the bed startled him, and prodded his wearymind. He gave a quick silent spring across in front of the door andflattened himself against the wall. He knew he had made a slight noisein his going, and he felt the stillness in the room behind the halfopen door. Link had heard him. It was a long time before he dared stiragain. 

Link seemed to lay down something on the floor that sounded like a dishand start toward the door. Billy felt the blood fly to the top of hishead. If Link came out he was caught. Where could he fly? Not downstairs. Shorty was there, with a gun of course. Would it do to snapthat door shut and lock Link in with the prisoner? No telling what hemight do, and Shorty would come if there was an outcry. He waited in anagony of suspense, but Link did not come out yet. Instead he tiptoedback to the bed again, and seemed to be arranging some things out of abasket on a little stand by the bed. Billy applied an eye to the crackof the door and got a brief glimpse. Then cautiously he put out hisstubby fingers and grasped that key, firmly, gently; turning, slipping, little by little, till he had it safe in his possession. Several timeshe thought Link turned and looked toward the door. Once he almostdropped the key as he was about to set it free from the lock, but hisanxious fingers were true to their trust, and the key was at last drawnback and safely slid into Billy's pocket. Then he looked around for aplace to hide. There were rooms on the front, and a door was open. Hecould slide in there and hide. It was dark, and there might be acloset. He cast one eye through the door crack and beheld in the dimlight Link bending over the inert figure on the bed with a cup andspoon in his hand. Perhaps they were giving him more dope! If he onlycould stop it somehow! The man was doped enough, sleeping all thattime! But now was the time for him and the key to make an exit. 

Slowly, cautiously he backed away from the door, down the hall and intothe next open door, groping his silent way toward a little half moon inthe shutter. He made a quick calculation, glanced about, did somesleight of hand with the door till it swung noiselessly shut, and thenslipping back to the window he examined the catches. There was a paneof glass gone, but it was not in the right place. If he only couldmanage to slide the sash down. He turned the catch and applied apressure to the upper sash, but like most upper sashes it would notbudge. If he strained harder he might be able to move it but that wouldmake a noise and spoil his purpose. He looked wildly round the room, with a feeling that something must help him, and suddenly he discoveredthat the upper sash of the other window was pulled all the way down, and a sweet breath of wild grape blossoms was being wafted to hisheated forehead. With a quick move he placed himself under this window, which he realized must be almost over Shorty's head. It was but thework of an instant to grasp Pat's gun and stick its nose well throughthe little half moon of an opening in the shutter, pointed straightover Shorty's head into the woods, and pull the trigger. 

The report went rolling, reverberating down the valley from hill tohill like a whole barrage it seemed to Billy; and perhaps to Shortywaiting for his pard below, but at any rate before the echoes hadceased to roll Shorty was no longer on the door step. He had vanishedand was far away, breaking through the underbrush, stumbling, andcutting himself, getting up to stumble again, he hurled himself awayfrom that haunted spot. Ghosts were nothing to Shorty. He could matchhimself against a spirit any day, but ghosts that could shoot wereanother matter, and he made good his going without hesitation orneedless waiting for his partner in crime. He was never quite surewhere that shot came from, whether from high heaven or down beneath theearth. 

As for Link, if he was giving more dope, he did not finish. He droppeda cup in his hurry and darted like a winged thing to the head of thestairs, where he took the flight at a slide and disappeared into thewoods without waiting for locks or keys or any such things. 

"He seems a little nervous, " grinned Billy, who had climbed to thewindow seat with one eye applied to the half moon, watching his victimstake their hurried leave. And lest they should dare to watch and returnbefore he was ready for them he sent another shot into the blue sky, ricochetting along the hills; and still another, grimly, after aninterval. 

Then swiftly turning he stole down the front stairs and took the keyfrom the lock, shut the door, pushing a big bolt on the inside. With ahasty examination of the lower floor that satisfied him that he wassafely ensconced in his stronghold and would not be open to immediateinterruption he hurried upstairs again. 

His first act was to open a window and throw back the shutters. Themorning sunlight leaped in like a friend, and a bird in a tree carolledout gladly. Something in Billy's heart burst into a tear. A tear! Bah!He brushed it away with his grimy hand and went over to the bed, rolling the inert figure toward him till the face was in plain view. Asudden fit of trembling took possession of him and he droppednervelessly beside the bed with his hands outstretched and uttered asob ending in a single syllable, _"Cart!"_

For there on the bed still as the dead lay Mark Carter, his belovedidol, and _he had helped to put him there!_

Thirty pieces of silver! And his dearest friend dead, perhaps! A Judas!All his life he would be a Judas. He knew now why Judas hanged himself. If Cart was dead he would have to hang himself! Here in this house ofdeath he must hang himself, like Judas, poor fool. And he would flingthat blood money back. Only, _Cart must not be dead!_ It would behell forever for Billy if Cart was dead. He _could not stand it!_

Billy sprang to his feet with tears raining down his cheeks, but histired dirty face looked beautiful in its anxiety. He tore open MarkCarter's coat and vest, wrenched away collar, necktie and shirt, andlaid his face against the breast. It was warm! He struggled closer andput his ear to the heart. It was beating!

He shook him gently and called, "Cart! Cart! Oh, _Boy!"_ with sobs choking in his throat. And allthe while the little bird was singing in a tree enough to split hisfeathered throat, and the sweet air full of wild grape was rushing intothe long closed room and driving out the musty air. 

Billy laid Mark down gently on the dusty pillow and opened anotherwindow. He stumbled over the cup and spoon, and a bottle fell from thetable and broke sending out a pungent odor. But Billy crept close tohis friend once more and began rubbing his hands and forehead andcrooning to him as he had once done to his dog when he suffered from abroken leg. Nobody would have known Billy just then, as he stoodcrooning over Mark. 

Water! He looked around. A broken pitcher stood on the table halffilled. He tasted it dubiously. It was water, luke warm, but water! Hesoused a towel he found on the washstand into it and slopped it overMark's face. He went through all the manoeuvres they use on thefootball field when a man is knocked out, and then he bethought him ofthe milk. Milk was an antidote for poisons. If he could get some downhim!

Carefully he rinsed out a glass he found on the bureau and poured somemilk in it, crept on the bed and lifted Mark's head in his arms, putthe glass to his lips, and begged and pled, and finally succeeded inprying the lips and getting a few drops down. Such joy as thrilled himwhen Mark finally swallowed. But it was a long time, and Billy began tothink he must go for the doctor, leave his friend here at the mercy ofwho would come and go after all. He had hoped he might keep his shame, and Mark's capture from everybody, but what was that verse the teacherhad taught them once awhile ago? "Be sure your sin will find you out. "That was true. He couldn't let Mark die. He must go for the doctor. Docwould come, and he would keep his mouth shut, but Doc would_know_, and Billy liked Doc. Well, he would have to get him! Markwould hate it so, too, but Billy would have to!

It was just then that Mark drew a long deep breath of the sweet air, sighed and drew another. Billy pressed the glass to his lips and Markopened his eyes, saw the boy, smiled, and said in a weak voice:

"Hullo, Billy, old boy, got knocked out, didn't I?" Then he closed hiseyes and seemed to go away again. But Billy, with wildly beating heartpoured some more milk and came closer:

"Drink this, Cart. It's good. Drink it. We gotta get them dirty bums, Cart! Hurry up an' drink it!"

Billy understood his friend. Mark opened his eyes and roused a little. Presently he drank some more, nearly a whole glass full and Billy tookheart of hope. 

"Do ya think ya could get up now, Cart, ef I he'ped ya?" he askedanxiously, "We gotta get after those guys ur they'll make a getaway. "

"Sure!" said Mark rousing again. "Go to it, Kid. I'm with you, " and hetried to sit up. But his head reeled and he fell back. Billy's heartsank. He must get him out of this house before the two keepersreturned, perhaps with Pat or some other partner in their crime. Patiently he began again, and gradually by degrees he propped Mark up, fed him more milk, and urged him to rise; fairly lifted him with hisloving strength, across the room, and finally, inch by inch down thestairs and out the back door. 

Billy felt a great thrill when he heard that door shut behind him andknew his friend was out in the open again under God's sky. Nothing everquite discouraged Billy when he was out of doors. But it was a work oftime to get Mark across the clearing and down in the undergrowth out ofsight of the house, where the old bicycle lay. Once there Billy feltlike holding a Thanksgiving service. But Mark was very white and layback on the grass looking wholly unlike himself. 

"Say, Cart, " said Billy after a brief silence of thought, "I gotta getyou on my machine. We gotta get down to Unity an' phone. "

"All right, old man, just as you say, " murmured Mark too dizzy to care. 

So Billy with infinite tenderness, and much straining of his youngmuscles got Mark up and managed to put him astride the wheel; but itwas tough going and slow, over rough places, among undergrowth, andsometimes Billy had to stop for breath as he walked and pushed and heldhis friend. 

But Mark was coming to his own again, and by the time they reached aroad he was able to keep his balance, and know what he was doing. Itwas high noon before they reached Unity and betook themselves to thedrug store. While Mark asked for medicine Billy hied him to a telephonebooth. His heart was beating wildly. He feared him much that Mark's carwas gone. 

But the chief's voice answered him after a little waiting, and heexplained:

"Say, I'm the kid that phoned you early this morning. Didya get thatcar aw'right?" Billy held his breath, his jaded eyes dropped shut withanxiety and weariness. But the chief's voice answered promptly, "yes, we got yer car all right, but didn't get the men. They beat it whenthey heard us coming. What sort of men were they, do you know?"

"Aw, that's aw'right, Chief, I'll tell ya when I gi'down there. Can'ttell ya over the phone. Say, I'm Billy, Billy Gaston. You know me. Overto Sab'th Valley. Yes. You seen me play on the team. Sure. Well, sayChief, I'm here in Unity with the guy that owns the car. Mark Carter. You know him. Sure! Mark! Well, he's all in, an' he wants his car toget home. He's been up all night and he ain't fit to walk. He wants meto come over and bring his car back to Unity fer him. I got my bikehere, See? Now, I ain't got a license of course, but I c'd bring hisalong. That be aw'right Chief, just over to Unity? Aw'right, Chief?Thank ya, Chief. Yas, I'm comin' right away. S'long!"

Billy saw Mark comfortably resting on a couch in the back room of thedrug store, where an old pal of his was clerk, and then stopping onlyfor an invigorating gulp or two of a chocolate ice cream soda, heclimbed on his old wheel and pedalled on his happy way to Economy. Thewinds touched him pleasantly as he passed, the sunshine had a queerreddish look to his feverish eyes, and the birds seemed to be singingin the top of his head, but he was happy. He might go to sleep on theway and roll off his wheel, but he should worry! Mark was safe. He hadalmost sold him for thirty pieces of silver, but God had somehow beengood to him and Mark was alive. Now he would serve him all the rest ofhis life, --Mark or God, --it seemed all one to him now somehow, so longhad he idealized his friend, so mixed were his ideas of theology. 

But Billy did not go to sleep nor fall off his wheel, and in due timehe arrived in Economy and satisfied the Chief's curiosity with vagueanswers, a vivid description of Link and Shorty, and the suggestionthat they might be found somewhere near the Haunted House on Stark'smountain. He had heard them talking about going there, he said. He gotaway without a mention of the real happening at Pleasant View or a hintthat he had had anything to do with the stealing of the car. Billysomehow was gifted that way. He could shut his mouth always just intime, and grin and give a turn to the subject that entirely changed thecurrent of thought, so he kept his own counsel. Not for his ownprotection would he have kept back any necessary information, but forMark's sake. Yes--for Mark's sake--! Mark would not want it to beknown. 

It was in the early evening, and the sky was still touched by the afterglow of sunset, beneath the evening star, as Mark and Billy in thereclaimed car, finally started from Unity for home. 

In both their hearts was the thought of the bells that would be ringingnow in Sabbath Valley for the evening service, and of the one who wouldbe playing them, and each was trying to frame some excuse that wouldexplain his absence to her without really explaining _anything_. 

And about this time the minister came forth from the parsonage, muchvexed in spirit by the appearance of the outlandish lady in heroutlandish car. She seemed to be insisting on remaining at theparsonage as if it were a common hostelry, and he and his wife had muchperplexity to know just what to do. And now as he issued quietly forthfrom a side door he could hear her lute-like voice laughing from hisfront porch, and looking back furtively he saw to his horror that thelady, as well as the gentleman, was smoking a cigarette!

He paused and tried to think just what would be the best way to meetthis situation, and while he hesitated his senior elder, a man ofnarrow vision, hard judgments, yet staunch sincerity, approached him. The minister had grown to expect something unpleasant whenever this mansought him out, and to-night he shrank from the ordeal; but anythingwas better than to have him see the visitor upon his front steps, soSevern turned and hurried toward him cordially:

"Good evening, Harricutt. It's been a good day, hasn't it?" he saidgrasping the wiry old hand:

"Not so pleasant as you'd think, Mr. Severn, " responded the hard oldvoice harshly, "I've come on very unpleasant business. Very unpleasantindeed; but the standard of the church must be kept up, and we must actat once in this matter! It is most serious, most serious! I've justcalled a meeting of the session to be held after church, and I've sentout for this _Mark Carter_ to be present. He must answer forhimself the things that are being said about him, or his name must bestricken from our church roll. Do you know what they are saying abouthim, Brother Severn? Do you know what he's done?"

But the arrow had entered the soul of the minister and his voice wastoo unsteady to respond, so the senior elder proceeded:

"He has been keeping company with a young woman of dissolute character, and he has been to a place of public amusement with her and been seendrinking with her. He affects dance halls, and is known to live aworldly life. It is time he was cast out from our midst and becomeanathema. And now, it is quite possible he may be tried for murder!Have you heard what happened last night, Mr. Severn? Did you know thatMark Carter, a member of _our church_, tried to _kill a man_down at the Blue Duck Tavern, and for jealousy about a girl of loosecharacter? And now, Brother Severn, what are we going to do about it?"

Said the minister, answering quietly, calmly:

"Brother Harricutt, we are not going to do anything about it just now. We are going into the church to worship God. We will wait at leastuntil Mark Carter comes back and see what he has to say for himself. "

And about that minute, Mark, now thoroughly restored and drivingsteadily along the road, turned to Billy and said quietly with atwinkle in his eye:

"Kid, what made you put up that Detour?"

X

The service that evening had been one of peculiar tenderness. Theminister prayed so earnestly for the graces of forgiveness, lovingkindness and tender mercy, that several in the congregation began towonder who had been hard on his neighbor now. It was almost uncannysometimes how that minister spotted out the faults and pettydifferences in his flock. Many examined their own hearts fearfullyduring the prayer, but at its close the face of the senior Elder wasstern and severe as ever as he lifted his hymn book and began to turnthe leaves to the place. 

Then the organ mellowed forth joyously:

 "Give to the winds thy fears, Trust and be undismayed, God hears thy prayers and counts thy tears God shall lift up thy head. "

Elder Harricutt would much rather it had been "God the All Terrible. "His lips were pursed for battle. He knew the minister was going to besoft hearted again, and it would fall to his lot to uphold the spotlessrighteousness of the church. That had been his attitude ever since hebecame a Christian. He had always been trying to find a flaw in Mr. Severn's theology, but much to his astonishment and perhapsdisappointment, he had never yet been able to find a point on whichthey disagreed theologically, when it came right down to old fashionedreligion, but he was always expecting that the next sermon would be theone wherein the minister had broken loose from the old dyed-in-the-woolcreeds and joined himself to the new and advanced thinkers, than whom, in his opinion, there were no lower on the face of God's earth. And yetin spite of it all he loved the minister, and was his strong admirerand loyal adherent, self-appointed mentor though he felt himself to be. 

Over on the other side of the church Elder Duncannon, tall, gaunt, hairy, with kind gray eyes and a large mouth, reminding slightly ofAbraham Lincoln, sang earnestly, through steel bowed spectaclesadjusted far out on the end of his nose. Behind him Lemuel Tipton, alsoan elder, sandy, with cherry lips, apple cheeks and a fringe ofgrizzled red hair under his chin, sang with his head thrown back, looking like a big robin. The minister knew he could depend on thosetwo. He scanned his audience. The elders were all present. Gibson. Hehad a narrow forehead, near-sighted eyes, and an inclination to takethe opposite side from the minister. His lips were thin, and he pursedthem often, and believed in efficiency and discipline. He wouldundoubtedly go with Harricutt. Jones, the short fat one who owned theplush mills and hated boys. He had taken sides against Mark about thememorial window. No hope from him! Fowler, small, thin, gray, with aretreating chin, had once lived next to Mrs. Carter and had a differenceabout some hens that strayed away to lay. Harricutt likely had him allprimed. Jones, Gibson, Harricutt--three against three. Joyce's votewould decide it. Joyce was a new man, owner of the canneries. He was agreat stickler for proprieties, yet he seemed to feel that a minister'sword was law--Well--! _God_ was still above--!

The benediction held a tenderness that fairly compelled the waitingcongregation to attend with their hearts. 

 * * * * *

"Let's go over there and hear that girl play, " suggested Lauriesuddenly, "Church is out and we'll make her play the bells. They'resimply _great_. She's some _player!"_

Opal leaned back in her chair and regarded him through the fringes ofher eyelashes, laughing a silvery peal that shivered into the reverenceof the benediction like a shower of icicles going down the back. Marilyn heard and blended the Amen into the full organ to break theshock as the startled congregation moved restlessly, with half unclosedeyes. Elder Harricutt heard, shut his eyes tighter, and pressed severelips together with resistance. This doubtless was that woman theycalled Cherry. That irreverent Mark Carter must be close at hand. Andon the rose-vined porch Laurence Shafton felt the sting of the laughand drew himself together:

"Oh, Laurie, Laurie!" she mocked, "You might as well be dead atSaybrook Inn or imprisoned for killing a family as fall in love withthat girl. She isn't at all your kind. How would you look singingpsalms? But come on, I'm game! I can see how she'll hate me. Can youwalk?"

They sauntered slowly over to the church in the fragrant darkness, heleaning on a cane he had found by the door. The kindly, curious peoplecoming out eyed them interestedly, looking toward the two cars in frontof the parsonage, and wondered. It was a neighborhood where everybodytook a kindly interest in everybody else, and the minister belonged tothem all. Nothing went on at his house that they did not just love anddote on. 

"Seems to me that girl has an awful low-necked dress for Sunday night, "said Mrs. Little to Mrs. Jones as they walked slowly down the street, "Did you catch the flash of those diamonds on her neck and fingers?"

"Yes, " said Mrs. Jones contemptuously, "paint on her face too, thick aspie crust. I saw her come. She drove her own car and her dresses wereup to her knees, and such stockings! With stripes like lace in them!And little slippers with heels like knitting needles! I declare, Idon't know what this generation is coming to! I'm glad my Nancy neverwanted to go away to boarding school. They say it's terrible, theboldness of young girls nowadays. "

"Well, if you'd ask me, _I'd_ say she wasn't so very_young!"_ declared Mrs. Little. "The light from the church doorwas full in her face when I was coming down the steps, and she lookedas if she'd cut her eye teeth sometime past. "

"She had short hair, " said Mrs. Jones, "for she pulled off her hat andran her fingers through it just like a boy. I was cutting bread at thepantry window when she drove up and I couldn't help seeing her. "

"Oh, when my sister was up in New York this spring she said she sawseveral old gray-haired women with bobbed hair. She said it wassomething terrible to see how the world had run to foolishness. "

"Well, I don'no as it's wicked to bob your hair, " said Mrs. Jones. "Isuppose it does save some time taking care of it if you have curlyhair, and it looks good on you, but mercy! It attracts so muchattention. Well, I'm glad we don't live in New York! I declare, everytime I come to church and hear Mr. Severn preach I just want to thankGod that my lines are cast in Sabbath Valley. But speaking of going toboarding school, it didn't hurt Marilyn Severn to go. She's just assweet and unspoiled as when she went away. "

"Oh, _her!_ You _couldn't_ spoil her. She's all_spirit_. She's got both her father's and mother's souls mixed upin her and you couldn't get a better combination. I declare I oftenwonder the devil lets two such good people live. I suppose he doesn'tmind as long's he can confine 'em to a little place among the hills. But my soul! If those two visitors didn't need a sermon to-night Inever saw folks that did. Do you know, when that man came last night ina broken down car he swore so he woke us all up, all around theneighborhood. If it had been anybody else in town but Mr. Severn he'dbeen driven out or tarred and feathered. Well, good-night. I guess youaren't afraid to walk the rest of the way alone. "

Back in the church Marilyn had lingered at the organ, partly becauseshe dreaded going back to the house while the two strangers were there, partly because it was only at the organ that she could seem to let hersoul give voice to the cry of its longing. All day she had prayed whilegoing quietly about her Sabbath duties. All day she steadily heldherself to the tasks that were usually her joy and delight, thoughsometimes it seemed that she could not go on with them. Billy and Mark!Where were they? What had their absence to do with one another? Somehowit comforted her a little to think of them _both_ away, and thenagain it disquieted her. Perhaps, oh, perhaps Mark had really changedas people said he had. Perhaps he had taken Billy to a baseball gamesomewhere. In New York or many other places that would not seem anunusual thing, she knew, not so much out of the way. Even churchmembers were lenient about these things in the great world. It wouldnot be strange if Mark had grown lax. But here in Sabbath Valley publicopinion on the keeping of the Sabbath day was so strong that it meant agreat deal. It amounted to public disgrace to disregard the ordinaryrules of Sabbath; for in Sabbath Valley working and playing were alikelaid aside for the entire twenty-four hours, the housewives preparedtheir dinner the day before, an unusually good one always, with somedelectable dessert that would keep on ice, and everything as in theolden time was prepared in the home for a real keeping of a day of restand enjoyment of the Lord. Even the children had special pasttimes thatbelonged to that day only, and Marilyn Severn still cherished a box ofwonderful stone blocks that had been her most precious possessions as achild, and had been used for Sabbath amusement. With these blocks shebuilt temples, laid out cities, went through mimic battles of the Bibleuntil every story lived as real as if she had been there. There werethree tiny blocks, one a quarter of a cube which she always calledSaul, and two half the size that were David and Jonathan. So vivid andso happy were those Sunday afternoons with mother and father and theblocks. Sabbath devoted to the pursuance of heavenly things had meantreal joy to Marilyn. The calm and quiet of it were delight. It had beenthe hardest thing about her years in the world that there seemed to beso little Sabbath there. Only by going to her own room and fencingherself away from her friends, could she get any semblance of what hadbeen so dear to her, that feeling of leisure to talk and think aboutChrist, her dearest friend. I grant she was an unusual girl. There isnow and then an unusual girl. We do not always hear about them. Theyare not always beautiful nor gifted. It chanced that Marilyn was allthree. 

So she sat and played at her dear organ, played sweet and tender hymns. Played gentle, pleading, throbbing themes that almost spoke their wordsout, as she saw Elder Harricutt leading his file of elders into thesession room which was just behind the organ. She knew that in allprobability there was to be a time of trial for her father, and thatsome poor soul would be mauled over and ground up in the mill ofcriticism, or else some of her father's dearest plans were to be heldup for an unsympathetic discussion. She thanked God for the stronghomely face of Elder Duncannon as he stalked behind the rest with alook of uplift on his worn countenance, and she played on softlythrough another hymn, until suddenly somehow, she became aware that thetwo strangers on the parsonage porch had left their rockers and werecoming slowly across the lawn. The woman's hard silvery laugh rang outand jabbed into the tender hymn she was playing, and she stopped shortin the middle of a phrase, as if the poor thing had been killedinstantly. The organ seemed to hold its breath, and the sudden silencealmost made the little church tremble. 

She sat tense, listening, her fingers spread toward the stops to pushthem in and close the organ and be gone before they arrived if theycontemplated coming in, for she had no mind to talk to them just now. Then coldly, harshly out from the cessation of great sound came ElderHarricutt's voice:

"But Brother Severn, supposing that it turns out that Mark Carter is amurderer! You surely would not approve of keeping his name on thechurch roll then, would you? It seems to me that in order to keep thegarments of the bride of Christ clean from soil we should anticipatesuch a happening and show the world that we recognize the character ofthis young man, and that we do not countenance such doings as she hasbeen guilty of. Now, last night, it is positively stated that he andthis person they call Cherry Penning were at the Blue Duck--!"

_Crash!_ The bells!

Lynn had heard so much through the open session-room door, had turned aquick frightened glance and caught the glimpse of two people comingslowly in at the open door of the church peering at her, had made onequick motion which released the bells, and dashed into the first notesthat came to her mind, the old hymn, "Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me, LetMe Hide Myself in Thee!" But instead of playing it tenderly, grandly, as she usually did, with all the sweetness of the years in which saintsand sinners have sung it and found refuge and comfort in its noblelines, she plunged into it with a mad rush as if a soul in mortal perilwere rushing to the Refuge before the gates should be forever closed, or before the enemy should snatch it from the haven. The first noteboomed forth so sharply, so suddenly, that Elder Harricutt jumpedvisibly from his chair, and his gossipy little details were drowned inthe great tone that struck. Behind his hand, the troubled ministersmiled in spite of his worries, to think of the brave young soul behindthose bells defending her own. 

Down the aisle just under the tower Opal Verrons paused for an instantstartled, thinking of prison walls, and of the dead man lying atSaybrook Inn that night. Suddenly the words of the telegram flashedacross her: "What disposition do you want made of the body?" The body!The _body!_ Oh! Her eyes grew wide with horror. She ought toanswer that telegram and give them his home address. But why shouldshe? What had she to do with him now? Dead. He was _Dead_. He hadpassed to another world. She shuddered. She looked around and shrankback toward Shafton, but Laurie was wrapt in the vision of SaintCecilia seated at the organ under the single electric light that thejanitor had left burning over her head. She resembled a saint with ahalo more than ever, and his easily excited senses were off chasingthis new flower of fancy. 

Behind the organ pipes the session sat with the reputation of a man intheir ruthless fingers, tossing it back and forth, and deliberatingupon their own damning phrases, while the minister sat with stern whiteface, and sought to hold them from taking an action that might brand ahuman soul forever. Marilyn needed no more than those harsh words toknow that her friend of the years was being weighed in the balance. 

Many a Sabbath afternoon in his childhood had Mark Carter spent withher playing the stone block play of David and Jonathan, and then eatenbread and milk and apple sauce and sponge cake with her and heard theevening prayers and songs and said good-night with a sweet look of theHeavenly Father's child on his handsome little face. Many a time as anolder boy had he sung hymns with her and listened to her read theBible, and talked it over with her afterward. He had not been like thatwhen she went away. Could he so have changed? And Cherry Fenner! Thelittle girl who had been but ten years old when she went away tocollege, Cherry a precocious little daughter of a tailor in Economy, who came over to take music lessons from her. Cherry at the Blue Duck!And with Mark! Could it be true? It could not be true! Not in the sensethat Mr. Harricutt was trying to make out. Mark might have been there, but never to do wrong. The Blue Duck was a dance hall where liquor wassold on the quiet, and where unspeakable things happened every littlewhile. Oh, it was outrageous! Her fingers made the bells crash out herhorror and disgust, and her appeal to a higher power to right thisdreadful wrong. And then a hopeless sick feeling came over her, awhirling dizzy sensation as if she were going to faint, although shenever fainted. She longed to drop down upon the keys and wail her heartout, but she might not. Those awful words or more like them were goingon behind the organ there, and the door was open--or even if the doorwas not open they could be heard, for the room behind the organ wasonly screened by a heavy curtain! Those two strangers must not hear! Atall costs they must not hear a thing like this! They did not know MarkCarter of course, but at any rate they must not hear! It was likehaving him exposed in the public square for insult. So she played on, growing steadier, and more controlled. If only she could know the rest!Or if only she might steal away then, and lie down and bear it alonefor a little! So this was what had given her father such a white drawnlook during his sermon! She had seen that hard old man go across thelawn to meet him, and this was what he was bringing her father to bear!

But the music itself and the words of the grand old hymns she wasplaying gradually crept into her soul and helped her, so that when thelame stranger made at last his slow progress up to the choir loft andstood beside her she was able to be coolly polite and explain brieflyto him how the organ controlled the action of the bells. 

He listened to her, standing in open admiration, his handsome carelessface with its unmistakable look of self indulgence was lighted up withgenuine admiration for the beautiful girl who could play so well, andcould talk equally well about her instrument, quite as if it werenothing at all out of the ordinary run of things that she were doing. 

Opal, sitting in the front pew, where she had dropped to wait till herescort should be satisfied, watched him at first discontentedly, turning her eyes to the girl, half wondering, half sneering, till allat once she perceived that the girl was not hearing the hot words ofadmiration poured upon her, was not impressed in the least by the man, did not even seem to know who he was--or care. How strange. What a verystrange girl! And really a beautiful girl, too, she saw, now that hernatural jealousy was for the moment averted. How extremely amusing. Laurie Shafton interested in a girl who didn't care a row of pins abouthim. What a shouting joke! She must take it back to his friends at theshore, who would kid him unmercifully about it. The thing had neverbeen known in his life before. Perhaps, too, she would amuse herself alittle, just as a pastime, by opening the eyes of this village maidento the opportunity she was missing? Why not? Just on the verge of hisdeparture perhaps. 

And now, with tender touch, the music grew softer and dropped into thesorrowful melody:

 "The mistakes of my life have been many, The sins of my heart have been more, But I come as He has bidden. And enter the open door. I know I am weak and sinful, It comes to me more and more But since the dear Saviour has bid me come in I'll enter the open door. "

It was one of the songs they used to sing together, Mark and she, onSunday afternoons just as the sun was dropping behind the westernmountain, and Marilyn played it till the bells seemed to echo out aheart's repentance, and a great forgiveness to one far, far away. 

At its first note the song was recognized by Mark Carter as he drovealong through the night and it thrilled him to his sad sick soul. Itwas as if she had spoken to him, had swept his heart strings with herwhite fingers, had given him her sweet wistful smile, and was callingto him through the dark. As they came in sight of the church Billypulled his cap a little lower and tried to keep the choke out of histhroat. Somehow the long hours without sleep or food, the toil, theanxiety, the reaction, had suddenly culminated in a great desire tocry. Yes, _cry_ just like a baby! Why, even when he was a baby hedidn't cry, and now here was this sickening gag in his throat, thissmarting in his eyelids, this sinking feeling. He cast an eye at Cart. Why, Cart looked that way too. Cart was feeling it also. Then he wasn'tashamed. He gulped and smudged his dirty hand across his smarting eyes, and got a long streak of wet on the back of his hand which he hastilydried on the side of his sweater, and so they sat, two still darkfigures travelling along quietly through the night, for Carter had shutoff the engine and let the natural incline of the road carry them downalmost in front of the church. 

When they reached the church they saw a figure standing with a liftedhand. The janitor, ordered by Harricutt to keep a watch. 

The car stopped at once. 

"Mark, they're wantin' ye in there, " he said with a flirt of his thumbover his shoulder and a furtive glance behind, "Keep yer eyes peeled, fer old Cutter-up is bossin' the job, an' _you know him!"_

Billy sat up and took notice. 

Mark got out with a grave old look upon his face, and started up thewalk. Billy made a move to follow, hesitated, drew back, held himselfin readiness and watched, all his boy instincts and prejudices keen onthe trail again. 

And so to the old sad song of his mistakes and sins Mark entered thedoor of the sessions room where once he and Marilyn had gone one happysummer morning to meet the session and confess their faith in Christ. 

As he had passed the window by the organ loft he gave one look up whereLynn's face was framed in the ivy of the window under the light. Hedrank in the sight hungrily. But the next instant he caught the visionof the young stranger standing with admiring eyes, saw Marilyn turn andlook up and answer him, but could not see how far away and sad hereyes. 

And with this shadow upon his heart he passed in to that waiting groupof hard critical men, with the white faced minister in their midst, andstood to meet their challenge. 

XI

The janitor had gone in to put the church in order for the night andhover about to find out what was going on in the session room. He nevertold but he liked to know. The moon had gone under a cloud. Billyslipped out of the car, and slid up the side path like a wraith, histired legs seeming to gather new vigor with the need. He gave a glanceof content up to the window. He was glad the bells were ringing, andthat _she_ was there. He wished she knew what peril their friendhad been in last night, and how he was rescued and safe. 

And then _he_ sighted the stranger!

_Who_ was that guy! Some sissy, that was sure! Aw _gee!_

He slid into the shadow out of sight and flattened himself against thewall with an attentive ear to the door of the session room. He raisedhimself by chinning up to the window ledge and got a bird's eye view ofthe situation at a glance. Aw Gee! That old Hair-cut! He wished thebells would stop. That sissy in there with _her_, and all thesehere with Cart, and no telling what's up next? Aw _gee!_ Life wasjest one--! He slumped his back to the wall and faced the parsonage. Say, what were those two cars over there in front of the parsonage?_Say!_ That must be the guy, the rich guy! Aw gee! In there with_her!_ If he only hadn't put up that detour! Pat knew what he wasabout after all, a little sissy guy like that--! _Aw, gee!_ But_two_ cars! What did two cars mean?

And over on the parsonage piazza, at the far end in the shelter of thevines sat Aunt Saxon in the dark crying. Beside her was Mrs. Severnwith her hand on the woman's shoulder talking in her gentle steadyvoice. Everybody loved the minister's wife just as much as they lovedthe minister:

"Yes, he went away on his wheel last night just after dark, " shesobbed. "Yes! he came home after the baseball game, and he made a greatfuss gettin' some paint and brushes and contrapshions fixed on his oldbicycle, and then he went off. Oh, he usually goes off awhile everynight. I can't seem to stop him. I've tried everything short of lockin'him out. I reckon if I did he'd never come back, an' I can't seem tobring myself to lock out my sister's baby--!"

"Of course not!" said Mrs. Severn tenderly. 

"Well, he stuck his head back in the door this time, an' he said mebbehe wouldn't be back till mornin', but he'd be back all right for SundaySchool. That's one thing, Mrs. Severn, " she lifted her tear stainedface, "That's one thing he does like--his Sunday School, Billy does, and I'm that glad! Sometimes I just sit down an' cry about it I'm soglad. You know awhile back when Miss Lynn was off to college that Mr. Harricutt had the boys' class, an' I couldn't get him to go anyhow. Why, once I offered to pay him so he could save fer a baseball bat ifhe'd go, but do you know he said he'd rather go without baseball batsfer ever than go listen to that old--Well, Mrs. Severn, I won't repeatwhat he said. It wasn't respectful, not to an elder you know. But MissLynn, why he just worships, an' anything she says he does. But that'sone thing worries me, Mrs. Severn, he _didn't come back for hereven!_ He said he'd be back fer Sunday School, an' he hasn't comeback yet!"

"Who does he go with most, Miss Saxon? Let's try to think where hemight be. Perhaps we could call up some one and find out where he is. "

"Well, I tell you, " wailed the Aunt, "That's just it. There's just oneperson he likes as well, or mebbe better'n Miss Mary Lynn, an' that'sMark Carter! Mrs. Severn I'm just afraid he's gone off with MarkCarter!" she lowered her voice to a sepulchral whisper, "And Mrs. Severn, they do say that Mark is real _wild!"_

Mrs. Severn sat up a little straighter and put a trifle of assuranceinto her voice, or was it aloofness?

"Oh, Miss Saxon!" she said earnestly, "I don't think you ought to feelthat way about Mark. I've known him since he was a mere baby, and I'vealways loved him. I don't believe Mark will ever do Billy any harm. He's a boy with a strong character. He may do things that people don'tunderstand, but I'd trust him to the limit!"

She was speaking eagerly, earnestly, in the words that her husband hadused to her a few days before, and she knew as she said it that shebelieved it was all true. It gave her a great comfort to know that shebelieved it was true. She loved Mark almost as though he were her own. 

Miss Saxon looked up with a sigh and mopped her pink wet face. 

"Well, I certainly am relieved to hear you say that! Billy thinks thesun rises and sets in 'Cart, ' as he calls him. I guess if Cart shouldcall him he'd go to the ends of the earth with him. I know _I_couldn't stop him. But you see Mrs. Severn, I oughtn't to have to bringup children, especially boys? Billy always was headstrong, and he'sgetting worse every day. "

"I'm sure you do your best, Miss Saxon, and I'm sure Billy will turnout a fine man some day. My Lynn thinks a great deal of him. She feelshe's growing very thoughtful and manly. "

"Does she now?" the tired pink face was lifted damply with a ray ofcheer. 

Then the telephone bell rang. Mrs. Severn rose and excused herself toanswer it. 

"Yes? Yes, Mrs. Carter. Mrs. Severn is speaking. Is anything the matter?Your voice sounds troubled. Oh, Mrs. Carter! I'm so sorry, but I'm sureyou can trust Mark. He's a man you know and he's always been anunusually dependable boy, especially to us who know him well. He'llcome back all right. What? Oh, Mrs. _Carter!_ No, I haven't heard anysuch reports, but I'm sure they're just gossip. You know how peoplewill talk. What do you say? They phoned you from Economy? Who?The police? They asked for Mark? Well, I wouldn't let that worry you. Mark always was helpful to the police in finding people, or going withthem after a lost car, you know. I wouldn't worry. Who? Billy? BillyGaston? Oh, you saw Billy this, morning? Well, that's good. His aunthas worried all day about him. I'll tell her. Who? A sick man on themountain? Well, now Mrs. Carter, don't you know Mark always wasdoing things for people in trouble? He'll come home safely, but ofcourse we'll just turn the earth upside down to find him for we arenot going to let you and Miss Saxon worry any longer. Just you waittill Mr. Severn gets back. He's in a session meeting and it oughtn'tto last long, it was just a special meeting called hurriedly. He'll comeright over as soon as it's out and see what he can do to help. Yes, of course he will. No don't bother to thank me. He would want toof course. Good-bye!"

She came hopefully out to the piazza, to Miss Saxon. But just at thatinstant Billy's aunt jumped to her feet, her eyes large withexcitement, and pointed toward the open session door, where framedagainst the light stood Mark Carter, straight and tall facing thecircle of men, and behind him, out in the dark, with only his swaggyold sweater shoulder and the visor of his floppy old cap showing aroundthe door jamb lurked Billy. 

"There! There!" Whispered Mrs. Severn, patting her shoulder. "I toldyou he'd come back all right. Now, don't you worry about it, and don'tyou scold him. Just go home and get him some supper. He'll be likelyvery hungry, and then get him to go right to bed. Wait till to-morrowto settle up. Miss Saxon, it's always better, then we have clearerjudgment and are not nearly so likely to lose our tempers and say thewrong thing. "

The bells had stopped ringing, and Marilyn had closed the organ anddrawn the window shut. The two strangers were trailing slowly acrossthe lawn, the lady laughing loudly. Miss Saxon eyed them with the kindof fascination a wild rabbit has for a strange dog, pressed the hand ofthe minister's wife with a fervent little squeeze, and scurried awayinto the dark street. Marilyn lingered silently on the front stepsafter the janitor had locked the door inside and gone back to thesession room. 

In the session room Mark Carter, white with the experiences of thenight and day, yet alert, stern, questioning, stood looking from oneman to another, keenly, uncompromisingly. This was a man whom any wouldnotice in a crowd. Character, physical perfection, strength of will allcombined to make him stand out from other men. And over it all, like afire from within there played an overwhelming sadness that had atransparent kind of refining effect, as if a spirit dwelt there who bysheer force of will went on in the face of utter hopelessness. 

The stillness in the session room was tense as the self appointed juryfaced their victim and tried to look him down; then slowly recognizedsomething that made them uneasy, and one by one each pair of eyes savetwo, were vanquished and turned embarrassedly away, or sought thepattern of the mossy carpet. 

Those two pairs of eyes that were friendly Mark found out at once, andit was as if he embraced them with his own. His friends--Duncannon andthe minister! He shot a grateful glance at them and faced the othersdown, but opened not his lips. 

At last Harricutt, his chief accuser, mustered up his sharp little eyesagain from under the overhanging eaves of rough gray brow, and shot outa disagreeable under lip:

"We have sent for you, here, to-night, Mark Carter, " he began slowly, impressively, raising a loose jointed long forefinger accusingly, as hegained courage, "to inquire concerning the incriminating reports thatare in circulation with regard to your character. "

Mark turned his hard eyes toward the elder, and seemed to congeal intosomething inflexible, impenetrable, as if he had suddenly let down acold sheet iron door between his soul and them, against which thewords, like shot or pebbles, rattled sharp and unharming and fell in ashower at the feet of the speaker. There was something about hisbearing that became a prince or president, and always made a faultfinder feel small and inadequate. The minister felt his heart throbwith a thrill of pride in the boy as he stood there just with hispresence hurling back the suspicions that had met to undo him. Hisstern young face was like a mask of something that had once beenbeautiful with life, whose utter sorrow and hopelessness pierced one atthe sight. And so he stood and looked at Elder Harricutt, who shot himone glance and then looking down began to fiddle with his watch chain, halting in his speech:

"They say--" he began again with a hiss, as he lifted his eyes, strongin the consciousness that he was not alone in his accusation, --"They_say_--!"

"Please leave what they say out of the question, Mr. Harricutt. What do_you_ say?" Mark's voice was cold, incisive, there was nothingquailing in his tone. 

"Young man, we can't leave what they say out of the question! It playsa very important part in the reputation of the Church of Christ ofwhich you are an unworthy part, " shot back the hard old man, "We arehere to know what you have to say concerning the things that are beingsaid openly about you. "

"A man does not always know what is being said about him, Mr. Harricutt. " Still that hard cold voice, still indifferent to the mainissue, and ready to fight it. 

"A man ought to!" snapped Harricutt impatiently. 

Suddenly, without warning, the mask lifted, the curve of the lips drewup at the left corner revealing the row of even white teeth, and atwinkle at the corners of the gray, thoughtful eyes, giving in a flasha vision of the merry mischief-loving boy he had been, and his wholecountenance was lit. Mark was never so attractive as when smiling. Itbrought out the lovingness of his eyes, and took away the hard oldnessof his finely cut features. 

"Mr. Harricutt, I have often wondered if _you_ knew all thatpeople say about _you?"_

_"WHAT?"_

There was sudden stir in the session room. The elders moved theirchairs with a swishing sound, cleared their throats hastily, and putsudden hands up to hide furtive smiles. Elder Duncannon grinnedbroadly, there was a twinkle in even the minister's eyes, and outsidethe door Billy manfully stifled a snicker. Elder Harricutt shot hisangry little eyes around in the mirthful atmosphere, starting at Mark'squizzical smile, and going around the uneasy group of men, back to Markagain. But the smile was gone! One could hardly be sure it had beenthere at all. Mark was hard cold steel again, a blank wall, impenetrable. There was no sign that the young man intended to repeatthe mocking offense. 

"Young man! This is no time for levity!" he roared forth menacingly. "You are on the verge of being arrested for murder. Did you know it?"

The minister watching, thought he saw a quiver go through the steadyeyes, a slight contracting of the pupil, a hardening of the sensitivemouth, that was all. The boy stood unflinching, and spoke with steadylips:

"I did not. "

"Well, you are!" reiterated the elder, "And even if the man doesn'tdie, there is plenty else. Answer me this question. It's no use beatingaround the bush. Where were you at three o'clock this morning?"

The answer came without hesitation, steadily, frankly:

"On Stark's Mountain, as nearly as I can make out. "

Billy held his breath and wondered what was coming next. He caught hishands on the window ledge and chinned himself again, his eyes and thefringe of his dishevelled brown hair appearing above the window sill, but the startled session was not looking out the window just then. Mr. Harricutt looked slightly put out. Stark's Mountain had nothing to dowith this matter, and the young man was probably trying to prove analibi. He sat up jerkily and placed his elbows on the chair arms, touching the tips of his long bony fingers, fitting them togethercarefully and speaking in aggravated detached syllables in rhythm withthe movement of his fingers. 

"Young--man! An--swer me!--_Ware_--you--or ware you--_not_--at--the--Blue--Duck--Tavern--last--evening?"

Blue and red lights seemed to flicker in the cold steel eyes of theyoung man. 

"I _was!_"

"A--hemmm!" The elder glanced around triumphantly, and went on with theexamination:

"Well, --young _man!_--Ware you--or--ware you _not_--accompanied--by a young wumman--of--notorious--I may say--infamouscharacter? In other words--a young girl--commonly called--Cherry?Cherry Fenner I believe is her whole name. Ware you with her?"

Mark's face was set, his eyes were glaring. The minister felt that ifHarricutt had dared look up he would almost be afraid, now. 

But after an instant's hesitation when it almost looked as if Mark werestruggling with desire to administer corporal punishment to the littleold bigot, he lifted his head defiantly and replied in hard tones asbefore:

"I _was!"_

"There!" said Elder Harricutt, wetting his lips and smiling fiendishlyaround the group, "There! Didn't I tell you?"

"May I inquire, " asked Mark startlingly, "What business of yours itis?"

Harricutt bristled. 

"What business? What _business?"_ he repeated severely, "Why, thisbusiness, young man. Your name is on our church roll as a member ingood and regular standing! For sometime past you have been dragging thename of our Lord and Saviour in the dust of dishonor by your goings on. It is our responsibility as elders of this church to see that this goeson no longer. "

"I see!" said Mark, "I haven't heard from any of the other elders onthe subject, but assuming that you are all of one mind--" he swept theroom with his glance, omitting the stricken faces of the minister andMr. Duncannon, "I will relieve you of further responsibility in thematter by asking you to strike my name from the roll at once. "

He was turning, his look of white still scorn fell upon them like firethat scorches. Outside the door Billy, forgetful that he might be seen, was peering in, his brows down in deep scawls, his lower jaw protruded, his grimy fists clenched. A fraction of a second longer and Billy wouldbutt into the session like some mad young goat. Respect for thesession? Not he! They were bullying his idol, Cart, who had alreadygone through death and still lived! They should see! Aw Gee!

But a diversion occurred just in the nick of time. It was Joyce, thenew member, the owner of the canneries, who had just built a new housewith electric appliances, and owned the best car in town. He was astickler for proprieties, but he was a great admirer of the minister, and he had been watching Mr. Severn's face. Also, he had watchedMark's. 

"Now, now, _now, _ young brother!" he said soothingly, rising inhis nice pleasant gentlemanly way, "don't be hasty! This can all beadjusted I am sure if we fully understand one another. I am acomparative stranger here I know, but I would suggest taking this thingquietly and giving Mr. Carter a chance to explain himself. You mustown, Brother Carter, that we had some reason to be anxious. You know, the Bible tells us to avoid even the appearance of evil. "

Mark turned with perfect courtesy to this new voice:

"The Bible also tells us not to judge one another!" he replied quickly. "Mr. Joyce, you are a stranger here, but I am not. They have known mesince childhood. Also there are some items that might be of interest toyou. Cherry Fenner five years ago was a little girl in this SundaySchool. She stood up in that pulpit out there one Children's Sunday andsang in a sweet little voice, 'Jesus loves me this I know, for theBible tells me so. ' She was an innocent little child then, andeverybody praised her. Now, because she has been talked about you areall ready to condemn her. And who is going to help her? I tell you ifthat is the kind of Christ you have, and the kind of Bible you arefollowing I want no more of it and I am ready to have my name taken offthe roll at once. "

Harricutt rose in his excitement pointing his long-flapping forefinger:

"You see, gentlemen, you see! He defies us! He goes farther! He defieshis God!"

Suddenly the minister rose with uplifted hand, and the voice that neverfailed to command attention, spoke:

"Let us pray!"

With sudden startled indrawing of breath, and half obedient bowing ofthe heads, the elders paused, standing or sitting as they were, andMark with high defiant head stood looking straight at his old friend. 

"Oh, God, our Father, O Jesus Christ our Saviour, " prayed the ministerin a voice that showed he felt the Presence near, "Save us in thistrying moment from committing further sin. Give us Thy wisdom, and Thyloving-kindness. Show us that only he that is without sin among us maycast the first stone. Put thy love about us all. We are all Thychildren. Amen. "

Into the silence that followed this prayer his voice continued quietly:

"I will ask Mr. Harricutt to take the chair for a moment. I would liketo make a motion. "

The elders looked abashed. 

"Why, --I, --" began Harricutt, and then saw there was nothing else forhim to do, and stepped excitedly over to the minister's seat behind thetable, and sank reluctantly down, trying to think how he could bestmake use of his present position to further his side of the question. 

The minister was still standing, seeming to hold within his gaze theeyes of every one in the room including Mark. 

"I wish to make a motion, " said the minister, "I move that we have arising vote, expressing our utmost confidence in Mr. Carter, andleaving it to his discretion to explain his conduct or not as hepleases! I have known this dear young brother since he was a boy, and Iwould trust him always, anywhere, with anything!"

A wonderful shiny look of startled wonder, and deep joy came into theeyes of the young man, followed by a stabbing cloud of anguish, andthen the hard controlled face once more, with the exception of acertain tenderness as he looked toward the minister. 

"Mr. Duncannon, will you second my motion?" finished Severn. 

The long gaunt dark elder was on his feet instantly:

"Sure, Brother Severn, I second that motion. If you hadn't got ahead ofme I'd have firsted it myself. I know Mark. He's _all right!_" andhe put out a hairy hand and grasped Mark's young strong fingers, thatgripped his warmly. 

Harricutt was on his feet, tapping on the table with his pencil:

"I think this motion is out of order, " he cried excitedly--but no onelistened, and the minister said calmly, "Will the chair put thequestion?"

Baffled, angry, bitter, the old stickler went through the hated words:"It is moved and seconded that we express our confidence--"

"Utmost confidence, Brother Harricutt--" broke in the minister's voice. "The red came up in the elder's face, but he choked out the words"utmost confidence, " on through the whole motion, and by the time itwas out four elders were on their feet, Duncannon and Joyce first, thank God, Gibson, more slowly, Fowler pulled up by the strong wiryhand of Duncannon who sat next him. 

"Stop!" suddenly spoke Mark's clear incisive voice, "I cannot let youdo this. I deeply appreciate the confidence of Mr. Severn and Mr. Duncannon, " he paused looking straight into the eyes of the new elderand added--"and Mr. Joyce, who does not know me. But I am not worthy ofso deep a trust. I ask you to remove my name from your church roll thatin future my actions shall not be your responsibility!" With that hegave one lingering tender look toward the minister, pressed hard thehairy hand of the old Scotch elder, and went out of the room beforeanyone realized he was going. 

Billy, with a gasp, and a look after his beloved idol, hesitated, thenpulled himself together and made a dash into the session room, like acatapult landing straight in the spot where Mark had stood, butignoring all the rest he looked up at the minister and spoke rapidly:

"Mr. Severn, please sir. Mark was with me last night from twelveo'clock on. Me an' him passed the Pleasant View Station in a car goingover to Stark's Mountain, just as the bells was ringing over here fermidnight, cause I counted 'em, and Mark was over to Stark's Mountaintill most noon to-day, and I come home with him!"

The minister's face was blazing with glory, and old Duncannon pattedBilly on the shoulder, and beamed, but Harricutt arose with menace inhis eye and advanced on the young intruder. However, before anyone coulddo anything about it a strong firm hand reached out from the doorwayand plucked Billy by the collar:

"That'll do, Kid, Keep your mouth shut and don't say another word!" Itwas Mark and he promptly removed Billy from the picture. 

"I move we adjourn, " said Elder Duncannon, but the minister did noteven wait for the motion to be seconded. He followed Mark out into themoonlight, and drew him, Billy and all, across the lawn toward theparsonage, one arm thrown lovingly across Mark's shoulder. He hadforgotten entirely the two guests parked on the piazza smokingcigarettes!

XII

As the shades of evening had drawn down two figures that had beenlurking all day in the fastnesses of Lone Valley over beyond the stateHighway, stole forth and crept stealthily under cover to StarkMountain. 

A long time they lingered in the edge of the woods till the dark wasvelvet black around them, before the moon arose. Then slowly, cautiously they drew near the haunted house, observing it long andsilently from every possible angle, till satisfied that no enemy wasabout. Yet taking no chances even then, the taller one crept forth fromshelter while the other watched. So stealthily he went that even hiscompanion heard no stir. 

It was some ten minutes that Shorty waited there in the bushes scarcelydaring to breathe, while Link painfully quiet, inch by inch encircledthe house, and listened, trying the front door first and finding itfast; softly testing the cellar windows one by one, beginning from theeastern end, going toward the front first, and so missing the window bywhich Billy had entered. A hundred times his operation was halted bythe sound of a rat scuttling across the floor, or racketing in thewall, but the hollow echoes assured him over and over again that thehouse was not occupied, at least not by anyone awake and in his senses. Link had been in the business so long that he "felt" when there was anenemy near. That was what vexed him now. He had "felt" that morningthat someone was near, but he had laid it to nerves and the reportedghost, and had not heeded his trained faculties. He was back now doublyalert to discover the cause and make good his failure in the morning. He had undertaken to look after this guy and see this job through andthere was big money in it. He was heavily armed and prepared for anyreasonable surprise. He meant to get this matter straight beforemorning. So, feeling his way along in the blackness, listening, haltingat every moment with bated breath, he came at last to the back door, and drawing himself up to the steps, took the knob in his hand andturned it. To his surprise it yielded to his touch, and the door cameopen. And yet it was some seconds of tense listening before he lethimself down to the ground again, and with his hand in the grass letout a tiny winking flashlight, no more than a firefly would flicker, and out again. 

This was answered by a wink from the bushes, as if the same firefly orits mate might be glowing, and after an instant another wink from theground near the house. Slowly Shorty arrived without noise, his bigbulk muffling in fat the muscles of velvet. It was incredible how lighthis step could be--_professionally. _ It was as if he had beenwafted there like down. Silently still and without communication thetwo drifted into the open door, sent a searching glowworm ahead intothe crannies of the dusty, musty kitchen, surprising a mouse that hadstolen forth domestically. The door being shut and fastened cautiously, the key in Link's pocket, they drifted through the swing door, as airmight have circulated, identifying the mouse's scuttle, the rattle of arat among the loose coal in the cellar bin, the throaty chirp of acricket outside in the grass, and drifting on. 

Thus they searched the lower floor, even as Billy had done, though morethoroughly, and mounted to the landing above, here they divided, Shortyat watch in the hall, while Link went to the front rooms first andsearched each hastily, not omitting closets, ending at the back roomwhere the prisoner had been. 

"He's gone!" said Link in a hoarse whisper, speaking for the first timeafter a hasty scanning of the shadowy place. 

Shorty took the precaution to turn the key of the door leading to thethird story before he entered to investigate. 

"Do you think it was him fired that shot?"

Link shook his head. 

"Couldn't! I had him lifted up in my arms and was just handing him somemore dope when the sound come. It seemed it was out front. It must abeen somebody in the front room. Sure! That guy never coulda got thembracelets off hisself. Looka here! Them was filed off!" They stood withthe flash light between them examining the handcuffs, and then turnedtheir attention to the rest of the room, studying the bed and floorscarefully for any traces of the possible assistant to the runaway butfinding none. Then they went in the front room again, and this timediscovered the lowered window and the little half moon aperture in theshutter. 

"How do you figger it?" asked Shorty turning a ghastly face toward Linkin the plaided darkness of the flash light. 

"Pat!" said Link laconically. 

"Pat?"

"Pat. He's yella! I told Sam, but he would have him! I ain't sure butSam's yella! I think I'm about done with this outfit!"

"But Pat? What would he do it for?"

"Goin to run the whole game hisself, perhaps, or then again he might bein with Sam, so they won't have to divvy up. He could say we hadn'tkept out contrac' you know, runnin' away like that. "

"We ain't to blame. How'd we know it want the police? We had a mightyclose shave over that state line this A. M. "

"Well, that's what he could say, an' refuse to divvy up. But b'lieveme, Shorty! Nobody's goin' to do me dirty like that! Somebody's beendoing us dirty, you and me, and it's good and right we beat 'em to it. "

"Yes, but how ya goin' to do it?"

"I ain't sure yet, but I'm goin' to do it. The first thing, Shorty, isfer us to get outta here mighty good an' quick. Ef anybody's watchin'round, we better not be here. We'll fade away. See?"

Without flash or noise they faded, going cautiously out by the frontdoor this time and disappearing into the dark of the woods just as thehorizon over Lone Valley began to show luminous in the path of theoncoming moon. 

They walked several miles, stealthily, and a mile or two morenaturally, before they ventured on a word, and then Shorty impatiently:

"I don't see what you can do. Whattirya goin' ta do?"

"Don't get excited, Shorty, I see my way out, " said Link affably, "Ididn't come off here half cocked. I investigated before I took on thejob. "

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, I just looked up the parties in the blue book before I come off. Didn't have much time, but I just looked 'em up. Great thing that bluebook. Gives ya lots of information. Then I got another thing, amagazine I always buy and keep on hand. It's called The House Lovely, an' it has all these grand gentlemen's places put down in pictures, with plans and everything. It's real handy when you wantta find out howto visit 'em sort of intimate like, and it kind of broadens yer mind. It's a real pity you never learned to read, Shorty. There's nothinglike it fer getting valuable information. I read a lot and I alwaysremember anything that's worth while. "

"I don't see how that's doin' us any good now, " growled Shorty. 

"Don't get hasty, Shorty, I'm comin' to it. You see these here Shaftonshave been on my mind fer some while back. I make it a point to knowabout guys like that. I read the society columns and keep posted aboutlittle details. It pays, Shorty. Now see! I happen to know that thesehere Shaftons have several summer homes, one in the mountains, one atthe seashore, one up at an island out in the ocean, and a farm down inJersey, where they go at Christmas fer the holidays sometimes. Well, just now I happen to know Mrs. Shafton--that's this guy's mother, isdown at the Jersey house all alone with the servants. Real handy ferour purposes, ain't it? Not so far we can't get there by mornin' if wehalf try, and the old man is off out West on a business trip. "

"What you gonta do?" asked Shorty. 

"Well, I haven't exactly got it all doped out yet, but I reckon ourbusiness is with the old lady. Let's beat it as fast as we can to atrolley and dope it out as we go. You see this here old woman is nutson her son, and she's lousy with money and don't care how she spendsit, so her baby boy is pleased. Now, I figger if we could come off withfive thousand apiece, you'n I we'd be doin' a good night's work and nomistake. Whaddayou say?"

"Sure thing, " grumped Shorty unbelievingly. 

"You see, " continued Link, "We're in bad, this guy escaping and all, and like as not Pat swiping all the boodle and layin' the blame ontous. You can't tell what might happen with Pat an' Sam, the dirtydevils. They might even let it come to a trial and testify against us. Sam has it in fer me an' you this long time, 'count of that last prettylittle safe blow-out that didn't materialize. See?"

Shorty growled gloomily. 

"Now on the other hand if we can step in before it is too late, orbefore the news of his havin' escaped gets to his fond parents, and getin our little work, we might at least make expenses out of it and beatit out of the country fer a while. I been thinkin' of South America fermy health fer some time past. How 'bout you?"

"Suits me. But how you gonta work it?"

"Well, you see I know a little bit about wimmen. An' I seen this womanoncet. If she was one of these here newfangled political kind youcouldn't do nothin' with her, she'd be onta you in no time an' have youup before the supreme court 'fore she goddone, but this here woman isone o' them old fashioned, useless kind that's afraid of everything andcries easy, and gets scairt at her shadder. I seen her on the boardwalk once with her husband, took notice to her, thought I might need itsometime. She has gray hair but she ain't never growed up. She wasridin' in a wheeled chair, an' him walkin' beside her an' a man behindpushin' her, an' a maid comin' along with a fur coat. She never done athing fer herself, not even think, an' that's the kind you can putanything over on from a teaparty to a blizzard without her suspectin' athing. Shorty, I'm gonta make up to Mrs. Shafton an' see what I can getout of her. But we gotta get a trolley line down to Unity an' catchthat evenin' train. See?"

About half-past ten that night, with the moon at full sail, Shorty andLink, keeping the shady side of the street, slunk into a littleobscure, and as yet unsuppressed saloon in a back street in a dirtylittle manufacturing city not many miles from Unity. Just off the sideentrance was a back hall in which lurked a dark smelly little telephonebooth under a staircase, too far removed from the noisy crowd thatfrequented the place to be heard. Here Link took instant refuge withShorty bulking largely in front of the door, smoking a thin blacktwisted cigar, and looking anything but happy. He had figured greatlyon getting his share of a million, and now at a single shot he had letit go through his fingers. There were reasons why he needed that partof a million at once. Link had all sorts of nerve. He called up theShafton home in New Jersey and jollied the maid, calling her girlie, and saying he was in the employ of young Laurie Shafton and had aspecial private message from the young man to his mother. It was notlong before a peevish elderly voice in his ear said:

"Well? Mrs. Shafton at the phone. "

And Link sailed in:

"Mrs. Shafton, I got a message from your son, a very private message. He said, would you please send your maid out of the room first before Itold you?"

She seemed annoyed and hesitant at this, but finally complied:

"Now, Mrs. Shafton, you don't need to get worried at what I'm tellin'you. Your son ain't dead, nor nothing like that you know, but he's justmet with a little accident. No, now, wait a minute till I tell you. Youdon't need to get excited ner nothing. If you just keep calm an' do asI tell you it'll all come out right in the end--"

He could tell by her voice that she was much excited and that so farhis scheme was working well. If he could only pull the rest off! Hewinked one eye jauntily at Shorty who was standing wide-mouthed, bulging-eyed listening, and went on:

"No, he didn't have no collision, ma'am, he just got kidnapped you see. And not wanting to get found out, natchelly the kidnappers give him alittle dope to keep his mouth shut fer a while. What's that? Who'm I?Well, now, Mrs. Shafton, that's tellin, ' ain't it? I wouldn't want togo so far as that 'thout I was sure of your cooperation. What's that?You'll reward me? Oh, thanks, that's what I was figgering about. Yousee I'm in rather of a hole myself. That's what. You see, much againstmy will I was one of the kidnappers myself ma'am. Yes ma'am, muchagainst my will! You see I'm a farmer's son myself, good an' honest andrespectable. Never had nothin' to do with such doin's in my life, myword of honor, lady. But I come to town just to look around an' have abit of fun an' I got in with a bad lot, an' they pract'cally_compelled_ me to assist 'em in this here kidnappin. ' Oh, I didn'tdo nothin', jest helped to carry him--Oh, ma'am, it ain't that bad. He's still livin' an' he'll be awwright if you just he'p me to get himaway 'thout their knowin'. Yes ma'am. I'm honest. I'm offerin' to helpyou. You see, when I see him layin' there on the bed--Oh, yes, he's ona bed, I ain't sayin' how comfortable it is, but it's a bed, an' heain't sufferin' now, --but of course if they don't get what they wantthey may put him to the torture jest to get more outta you all--No, ma'am don't scream that way ur I'll have to hang up. This is on theq. T. You know. What? You don't understand? Why, I was sayin' youmustn't let a soul know what's happened. Not a _soul. _ If itshould get out an' his kidnappers should find it out they'd kill himeasy as a fly an' no mistake. You gotta go slow on this. Yes, lady, they're desperate characters, _I'm sayin' it!_ an' the sooner youget your son outta their han's the better fer his future, lady, fereven if he should escape after they'd been found out they'd probablylame him fer life or put out his eyes or some little old thing likethat, so you see, lady, you gotta talk low an' take care you don't leton to no one. If you should turn yella it ud be all up with littleLaurie an' no mistake, so keep yer mouth shet an' do as I tell ye, andI'll help ye out. Yes, as I was sayin' when I seen little Laurie layin'there so still an' white, my conscience--There, there, lady, don't youtake on--as I was sayin' my conscience troubled me, an' I says, I'magonta get this fella free! So I figgered out a way. You see lady, there's two of us, me'n another feller set to watch 'im, an' feed himdope if he tries to wake up, an' when I get feelin' worried about it Isays to the other fella I was agonta tell his folks, an' he says he'llshoot me, but I keeps on tellin' him how sinful 'twas to make a poormother suffer--I gotta mother myself ma'am! Yes ma'am a good oldmother, an' she taught me to be honest, so I says to thother fella, Isays what'll you take an' git out, an' he says ten thousand dollars, an' I says, awwright, I'll get it fer ya, an' so now lady, 'f I was youI'd pay it right down quick 'fore he changes his mind. Cause the otherfellas they was goin' to ast a million, an' kill 'im if you didn't fallfer it right to oncet. No ma'am I don't want nothin' fer myself. I justwant to go back to the old farm with a clean conscience. What? Oh, yes, I want the money right away, that is before mornin'. If we can't gethim out before mornin' it ain't no use, fer the other fellas is comin'back an' move him an' we can't do nothin'? What? Where is he? Icouldn't' really say, lady, it wouldn't be allowed, an' my mate he'soutside the telephone booth with a loaded revolver holdin' it up to myhead, and he's listenin' an' ef I give anythin' away he'd shoot me onthe spot. So where would your nice lookin' son be then? Mrs. Shaftonhadn't you better--? That's right lady, I knew you'd thank me, an' yes, now I'll tell you what to do. First place, how much money ya got in thehouse? No, that's not 'nough. That wouldn't do a mite of good, itwouldn't be a drop in the bucket. Ain't ya got any bonds, ur jewels orpapers? Yes, that's the talk! Now yer shoutin'--Yes, lady, that woulddo. No, --not that. You gotta have something that he can't get caughtwith. I know you're loosin' a lot lady, but you got lots left, andwhat's money an' jewels compared to your only son, ma'am? Why, thinkhow he used to look when he wore little white dresses an' used to cometo have his head kissed when he fell down! Wasn't he sweet, lady, andhe had a pair of little blue shoes didn't he? I thought so. Say, lady, you'r the right sort! I knowed you must be to be a mother of such ahandsome son. Now, lady, could you hustle those things together youspoke of an' any more you may happen to come on, and just put 'em in alittle box or basket, and tie a string on 'em an' let 'em down outtayer winda? It's all I'll ask. Let 'em down outta yer winda. Then youturn out the lights and turn 'em on again three times real quick, outan' in, an' that'll be the signal. An' after ten minutes you look outyer front winda an' off as fur as ye can see an' I'll flash a signallight to ya jest to let ya know it's all right. An' I'll promise you onmy word of honor that you'll hear your own son's voice over thetelephone good an' early tomorrow mornin' an' no mistake. But lady, yemustn't turn yella an' holler ner nothin or we'll fling yer jewels an'paper back in yer yard an' let yer son die. We ain't goin' to run nochances ye know. You ain't got no dogs, have ye? And which side is yerroom on? The front? Yes, an' which is the easiest way to get to thehouse without comin' near the servants' quarters? To the right? Yes, Isee. An' you'll play straight? All right lady. Your son's as good ashome now. I'll give you just one hour by the clock to get yer stufftogether, but mind ya, if ya weaken an' try to put the p'lice onto me, I got a way to signal my pal, an' he'll have that boy o' yours shotwithin five minutes after you call fer help? Understand? Oh, yes, Iknow lady, you wouldn't do no such a thing, but my pal he made me saythat. He's a desperate man lady, an' there ain't no use toyin' withhim. All right. One hour. It's just quarter to 'leven. Good-bye!"

Link came lounging out of the booth mopping his wet forehead:

"She fell fer it all right, " he said jerking a wan smile, but he lookedas though the last of his own nerve had gone into the telephonereceiver. "She wanted to put in an extra check, but I told her we'd begenerous and let it go at what she could find without her name on it. Gosh, what fools some wommen are! I thought I got her number all right, a whimperin' fool! A whimperin' little old fool! Now, Shorty, all wegotta do is collect the boodle. It's up to you to watch outside thehedge. I'm takin' all the risks this time m'self, an' I'm goin' toferret my way under that there madam's winder. You stay outside andgimme the signal. Ef you get cold feet an' leave me in the lurch youdon't get no dividends, See?"

XIII

Billy, with that fine inner sense that some boys have, perceived thatthere was deep emotion of a silent sort between the minister and Mark, and he drifted away from them unnoticed, back toward the car. 

"Billy!" whispered Lynn, rising from the upper step in the shadow ofthe church. 

The boy turned with a quick silent stride and was beside her:

"I couldn't help it, Miss Lynn, I really couldn't--There was somethingvery important--Cart--That is--Cart needed me! I knew you'dunderstand. "

"Yes, Billy, I understand. Somehow I knew you were with Mark. It's goodto have a friend like you, Billy!" She smiled wanly. 

Billy looked up half proud, half ashamed:

"It's nothin'!" said Billy, "I just had to. Cart--well, I had to. "

"I know, Billy--Mark needed you. And Billy, --if there's any trouble--any--any--that is if Mark ever needs you, you'll stick by him I know?"

"Sure!" said Billy looking up with a sudden searching glance, "Sure, I'll stick by him!"

"And if there's anything--anything that ought to be done--why--I meananything _we_ could do--Billy, --you'll let us know?"

"Sure, I will!" There was utmost comprehension in the firm young voice. Billy kicked his heel softly into the grass by the walk, looking downembarrassedly. He half started on toward the car and then turning backhe said suddenly, "Why doncha go see Cherry, Miss Lynn?"

"Cherry?" she said startled, her face growing white in the darkness. 

The boy nodded, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets and regardingher with sudden boldness. He opened his lips as if he would speakfurther, then thought better of it and closed them again firmly, dropping his eyes as if he were done with the topic. There was a bit ofsilence, then Lynn said gravely:

"Perhaps I will, " and "Thank you, Billy. "

Billy felt as though the balm of Gilead had suddenly been poured overhis tired heart. 

"G'night!" he murmured, feeling that he had put his troubles intocapable hands that would care for them, as he would himself. 

There had been no word spoken between the minister and Mark as theywent together toward the parsonage, but there had seemed to each to bea great clearing of the clouds between them, and a tender lovespringing anew, with warm understanding and sympathy. Mark felt himselfa boy again, with the minister's arm across his shoulder, and a strongyearning to confide in this understanding friend, swept over him. Ifthere had been a quiet place with no one about just then there is notelling what might have happened to change the story from that pointon, but their silent intercourse was rudely interrupted by the voice ofLaurie Shafton breaking in:

"Oh, I say, Mr. Severn, who did you say that man was that could fixcars? I'd like to call him up and see if he doesn't happen to have somebearings now. He surely must have returned by this time hasn't he? I'dlike to take these girls a spin. The moon is perfectly gorgeous. Wecould go in the lady's car, only it is smaller and I thought I'd askyour daughter to go along. "

"Oh!" said the minister suddenly brought back into the world of trivialthings? "Why, _this_ is Mr. Carter, Mr. Shafton. He can speak forhimself. "

Mark stood with lifted head and his princely look regarding theinterloper with cold eyes. He acknowledged the introduction almosthaughtily, and listened to the story of the burnt out bearings withouta change of countenance, then said gravely:

"I think I can fix you up in the morning. "

"Not to-night?" asked the spoiled Laurie with a frown of displeasure. 

"Not to-night, " said Mark with a finality that somehow forbade even aShafton from further parley. 

Opal had regarded Mark from the vine covered porch as he stood withbared head in the moonlight and clattered down on her tiny patentleather pumps to be introduced. She came and stood hanging pertly onLaurie Shafton's arm as if he were her private property, with her largelimpid eyes fixed upon the stranger, this prince of a man that hadsuddenly turned up in this funny little country dump. 

She put her giddy little tongue into the conversation, something abouthow delicious it would be to take a little ride to-night, implying thatMark might go along if he would fix up the car. She was dressed in aslim, clinging frock of some rich Persian gauzy silk stuff, heavy withbeads in dull barbaric patterns, and girt with a rope of jet and jade. Her slim white neck rose like a stem from the transparent neck line, and a beaded band about her forehead held the fluffy hair in placeabout her pretty dark little head. She wore long jade earrings whichnearly touched the white shoulders, and gave her the air of an Egyptianprincess. She was very gorgeous, and unusual even in the moonlight, andshe knew it, yet this strange young man gave her one cold scrutinizingglance and turned away. 

"I'll see you again in the morning, Mr. Severn, " he said, and wringingthe minister's hand silently, he went back across the lawn. The spellwas broken and the minister knew it would be of no use to follow. Markwould say no more of his trouble tonight. 

It was so that Lynn, coming swiftly from her shadow, with troubledthoughts, came face to face with Mark:

He stopped suddenly as if something had struck him. 

"Oh, Mark!" she breathed softly, and put out her hand. 

He made a swift motion away from her, and said quickly:

"Don't touch me, Marilyn, --I-am--not--_worthy_!"

Then quickly turning he sprang into his car and started the engine. 

The minister stood in the moonlight looking sadly after the wayward boywhom he had loved for years. 

Lynn came swiftly toward her father, scarcely seeing the two strangers. She had a feeling that he needed comforting. But the minister, notnoticing her approach, had turned and was hurrying into the house bythe side entrance. 

"Come on girls, let's have a little excitement, " cried Laurie Shaftongaily, "How about some music? There's a piano in the house I see, let'sboom her up!"

He made a sudden dive and swooped an arm intimately about each girl'swaist, starting them violently toward the steps, forgetting the lameankle that was supposed to make him somewhat helpless. 

The sudden unexpected action took Marilyn unaware, and before she couldget her footing or do anything about it she caught a swift vision of awhite face in the passing car. Mark had seen the whole thing! She drewback quickly, indignantly flinging the offending arm from her waist, and hurried after her father; but it was too late to undo theimpression that Mark must have had. He had passed by. 

Inside the door she stopped short, stamping her white shod foot withquick anger, her face white with fury, her eyes fairly blazing. IfLaurie had seen her now he would scarcely have compared her to a saint. To think that on this day of trouble and perplexity this gay insolentstranger should dare to intrude and presume! And before Mark!

But a low spoken word of her mother's reached her from the dining-room, turning aside her anger:

"I hate to ask Lynn to take her into her room. Such a queer girl! Itseems like a desecration! Lynn's lovely room!"

"She had no right to put herself upon us!" said the father in troubledtones. "She is as far from our daughter as heaven is from the pit. Whois she, anyway?"

"He merely introduced her as his friend Opal. "

"Is there nothing else we can do?"

"We might give her our room, but it would take some time to put it inorder for a guest. There would be a good many things to move--and itwould be rather awkward in the morning, cots in the living-room. Isuppose Lynn could come in with me and you sleep on a cot--!"

"Yes, that's exactly it! Do that. I don't mind. "

"I suppose we'll have to, " sighed the mother, "for I know Lynn wouldhate it having a stranger among her pretty intimate things--!"

Marilyn sprang up and burst into the dining-room:

"Mother! Did you think I was such a spoiled baby that I couldn't becourteous to a stranger even if she was a detestable little vamp?You're not to bother about it any more. She'll come into my room withme of course. You didn't expect me to sail through life without anysacrifices at all did you, Motherie? Suppose I had gone to Africa as Ialmost did last year? Don't you fancy there'd have been some thingsharder than sharing my twin beds with a disagreeable stranger? Besides, remember those angels unaware that the Bible talks about. I guess thisis up to me, so put away your frets and come on in. It's time we hadworship and ended this day. But I guess those two self-imposed boardersof ours need a little religion first. Come on!"

She dropped a kiss on each forehead lightly and fled into the otherroom. 

"What a girl she is!" said her father tenderly putting his hand gentlyon the spot she had kissed, "A great blessing in our home! Dear child!"

The mother said nothing, but her eyes were filled with a great content. 

Marilyn, throwing aside her hat and appearing in the front door calledpleasantly to the two outside:

"Well, I'm ready for the music. You can come in when you wish. "

They sauntered in presently, but Marilyn was already at the pianoplaying softly a bit from the Angel Chorus, a snatch of Handel's Largo, a Chopin Nocturne, one of Mendelssohn's songs without words. The twocame in hilariously, the young man pretending to lean heavily on thegirl, and finding much occasion to hold her hands, a performance towhich she seemed to be not at all averse. They came and stood besidethe piano. 

"Now, " said Opal gaily, when Marilyn came to the end of anotherNocturne: "That's enough gloom. Give us a little jazz and Laurie andI'll dance awhile. "

Marilyn let her hands fall with a soft crash on the keys and looked up. Then her face broke up into a smile, as if she had put aside anunpleasant thought and determined to be friendly:

"I'm sorry, " she said firmly, "We don't play jazz, my piano and I. Inever learned to love it, and besides I'm tired. I've been playing allday you know. You will excuse anything more I'm sure. And it's gettinglate for Sabbath Valley. Did you have any plans for to-night?"

Opal stared, but Marilyn stared back pleasantly, and Laurie watchedthem both. 

"Why, no, not exactly, " drawled Opal, "I thought Laurie would behospitable enough to look me up a place. Where is your best hotel? Isit possible at all?"

"We haven't a sign of a hotel, " said Marilyn smiling. 

"Oh, horrors, nothing but a boarding house I suppose. Is it far away?"

"Not even a boarding house. "

"Oh, heavens! Well, where do you stop then?"

"We don't stop, we live, " said Marilyn smiling. "I'm afraid the onlything you can do unless you decide to go back home tonight is to sharemy room with me, --I have twin beds you know and can make you quitecomfortable. I often have a college friend to stay with me for a fewweeks. "

Opal stared round eyed. This was a college girl then, hidden away in ahole like this. Not even an extra spare room in the house!

"Oh my gracious!" she responded bluntly, "I'm not used to rooming withsome one, but it's very kind of you I'm sure. "

Marilyn's cheeks grew red and her eyes flashed but she whirled back toher keyboard and began to play, this time a sweet old hymn, and whileshe was playing and before the two strangers had thought of anything tosay, Mr. Severn came in with the Book in his hand, followed by hiswife, who drew a small rocker and sat down beside him. 

Marilyn paused and the minister opened his Bible and looked around onthem:

"I hope you'll join us in our evening worship, " he said pleasantly tothe two guests, and then while they still stared he began to read: "Letnot your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in Me, " onthrough the beautiful chapter. 

It was as Greek to the strangers, who heard and did not comprehend, andthey looked about amazed on this little family with dreamy eyes alllistening as if it meant great treasures to them. It was as if they sawthe Severns for the first time and realized them as individuals, as aforce in the world, something complete in itself, a family that was notdoing the things they did, not having the things considered essentialto life, nor trying to go after any of the things that life had tooffer, but living their own beautiful lives in their own way withoutregard to the world, and actually enjoying it! That was the queer partabout it. They were not dull nor bored! They were happy! They could getout from an environment like this if they choose, and _they didnot_. They _wanted_ to stay here. It was incredible!

Laurie got out his cigarette case, selected a cigarette, got out hismatch box, selected a match, and all but lit it. Then somehow thereseemed to be something incongruous about the action and he lookedaround. No one was seeing him but Opal, and she was laughing at him. Heflushed, put back the match and the cigarette, and folded his arms, trying to look at home in this strange new environment. But the girlMarilyn's eyes were far away as if she were drinking strange knowledgeat a secret invisible source, and she seemed to have forgotten theirpresence. 

Then the family knelt. How odd! Knelt down, each where he had beensitting, and the minister began to talk to God. It did not impress thevisitors as prayer. They involuntarily looked around to see to whom hewas talking. Laurie reddened again and dropped his face into his hands. He had met Opal's eyes and she was shaking with mirth, but somehow itaffected him rawly. Suddenly he felt impelled to get to his knees. Heseemed conspicuous reared up in a chair, and he slid noiselessly to thefloor with a wrench of the hurt ankle that caused him to draw his browsin a frown. Opal, left alone in this room full of devout backs, grewsuddenly grave. She felt almost afraid. She began to think of SaybrookInn and the man lying there stark and dead! The man she had danced withbut a week before! Dead! And for her! She cringed, and crouched down inher chair, till her beaded frock swept the polished floor in a littletinkley sound that seemed to echo all over the room, and before sheknew it her fear of being alone had brought her to her knees. To belike the rest of the world--to be even more alike than anybody else inthe world, that had always been her ambition. The motive of her lifenow brought her on her knees because others were there and she wasafraid to sit above lest their God should come walking by and sheshould see Him and die! She did not know she put it that way to hersoul, but she did, in the secret recesses of her inner dwelling. 

Before they had scarcely got to their knees and while that awkward hushwas yet upon them the room was filled with the soft sound of singing, started by the minister, perhaps, or was it his wife? It wasunaccompanied, "Abide with me, Fast falls the eventide, the darknessdeepens, Lord with me abide!" Even Laurie joined an erratic high tenorhumming in on the last verse, and Opal shuddered as the words weresung, "Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes, Shine through thedark and point me to the skies. " Death was a horrible thing to her. Shenever wanted to be reminded of death. It was a long, long way off toher. She always drowned the thought in whatever amusement was at hand. 

The song died away just in time or Opal might have screamed. She waseasily wrought up. And then this strange anomoly of a girl, her younghostess, turned to her with a natural smile just as if nothingextraordinary had been going on and said:

"Now, shall we say good-night and go upstairs? I know you must be tiredafter your long ride, and I know father has had a hard day and wouldlike to get the house settled for the night. "

Opal arose with a wild idea of screaming and running away, but shecaught the twinkle of Laurie's eyes and knew he was laughing at her. Soshe relaxed into her habitual languor, and turning haughtily requested:

"Would you send your maid to the cyar for my bag, please?"

Before anyone could respond the minister stepped to the door with acourteous "Certainly, " and presently returned with a great blue leatheraffair with silver mountings, and himself carried it up the stairs. 

At the head of the stairs Marilyn met him, and put her head on hisshoulder hiding her face in his coat, and murmured, "Oh, Daddy!"

Severn smoothed her soft hair and murmured gently: "There, there littlegirl! Pray! Pray! Our Father knows what's best!" but neither of themwere referring to the matter of the unwelcome guests. 

Mrs. Severn was solicitous about asking if there was anything the guestwould like, a glass of milk, or some fruit? And Opal declined curtly, made a little moue at Shafton and followed up the stairs. 

"Well!" she said rudely, as she entered the lovely room and staredaround, "so this is your room!" Then she walked straight to the wall onthe other side of the room where hung a framed photograph of Mark attwelve years old; Mark, with all the promise of his princely bearingalready upon him. 

"So this is the perfect icicle of a stunning young prince that was downon the lawn, is it? I thought there was some reason for your franticindifference to men. Is his name Billy or Mark? Laurie said it waseither Billy or Mark, he wasn't sure which. "

XIV

Mark Carter and Billy as they rode silently down the little streettoward Aunt Saxon's cottage did not speak. They did not need to speak, these two. They had utmost confidence in one another, they were bothtroubled, and had no solution to offer for the difficulty. That wasenough to seal any wise mouth. Only at the door as Billy climbed outMark leaned toward him and said in a low growl:

"You're all right, Kid! You're the best friend a man ever had! Iappreciate what you did!"

"Aw!" squirmed Billy, pulling down his cap, "That's awright! See yout'morra' Cart! S'long!" And Billy stalked slowly down the streetremembering for the first time that he had his aunt yet to reckon with. 

With the man's way of taking the bull by the horns he stormed in:

"Aw, Gee! I'm tired! Now, I'spose you'll bawl me out fer a nour, an' Icouldn't help it! You always jump on me worst when I ain't to blame!"

Aunt Saxon turned her pink damp face toward the prodigal and broke intoa plaintive little smile:

"Why, Willie, is that you? I'm real glad you've come. I've kept supperwaiting. We've got cold pressed chicken, and I stirred up some waffles. I thought you'd like something hot. "

Billy stared, but the reaction was too much. In order to keep thesudden tears back he roared out crossly:

"Well, I ain't hungry. You hadn't oughtta have waited. Pressed chicken, did ya say? Aw _Gee_! Just when I ain't hungry! Ef that ain't_luck_! An' waffles! You oughtta known better! But bring 'em on. I'll try what I can do, " and he flung himself down in his chair at thetable and rested a torn elbow on the clean cloth, and his weary head ona grimy hand. And then when she put the food before him, without evensuggesting that he go first and wash, he became suddenly conscious ofhis dishevelled condition and went and washed his hands and face_without being sent_! Then he returned and did large justice tothe meal, his aunt eyeing furtively with watery smiles, and a sigh ofrelief now and then. At last she ventured a word by way ofconversation:

"How is the man on the mountain?" Billy looked up sharply, startled outof his usual stolidity with which he had learned from early youth tomask all interest or emotion from an officious and curious world. 

Miss Saxon smiled:

"Mrs. Carter told me how you and Mark went to help a man on themountain. It was nice of you Billy. "

"Oh! _that_!" said Billy scornfully, rallying to screen hisagitation, "Oh, he's better. He got up and went home. Oh, it wasn'tnothing. I just went and helped Cart. Sorry not to get back to SundaySchool Saxy, but I didn't think 'twould take so long. "

After that most unusual explanation, conversation languished, whileBilly consumed the final waffle, after which he remarked gravely thatif she didn't mind he'd go to bed. He paused at the foot of the stairwith a new thoughtfulness to ask if she wanted any wood brought in formorning, and she cried all the time she was washing up the few dishesat his consideration of her. Perhaps, as Mrs. Severn had told her, there was going to come a change and Billy was really growing moremanly. 

Billy, as he made his brief preparation for bed told himself that hecouldn't sleep, he had too much to worry about and dope out, but hishead had no more than touched the pillow till he was dead to the world. Whatever came on the morrow, whatever had happened the day before, Billy had to sleep it out before he was fit to think. And Billy slept. 

But up the street in the Carter house a light burned late in Mark'swindow, and Mark himself, his mother soothed and comforted and sent tosleep, sat up in his big leather chair that his mother had given him onthe last birthday before he left home, and stared at the wall oppositewhere hung the picture of a little girl in a white dress with floatinghair and starry eyes. In his face there grew a yearning and ahopelessness that was beyond anything to describe. It was like a facethat is suffering pain of fire and studying to be brave, yet burns andsuffers and is not consumed. That was the look in Mark Carter's eyesand around his finely chiseled lips. Once, when he was in that moodtravelling on a railway carriage, a woman across the aisle had calledher husband's attention to him. "Look at that man!" she said, "He lookslike a lost soul!"

For a long time he sat and stared at the picture, without a motion ofhis body, or without even the flicker of an eyelash, as if he were setthere to see the panorama of his thoughts pass before him and see themthrough to the bitter end. His eyes were deep and gray. In boyhood theyhad held a wistful expectation of enchanting things and doing greatdeeds of valor. They were eyes that dream, and believe, and are happyeven suffering, so faith remain and love be not denied. But faith hadbeen struck a deadly blow in these eyes now, and love had been castaway. The eyes looked old and tired and unbelieving, yet stillsearching, searching, though seeing dimly, and yet more dim every day, searching for the dreams of childhood and knowing they would never comeagain. Feeling sure that they might not come again because he had shutthe door against them with his own hand, and by his own act cut thebridge on which they might have crossed from heaven to him. 

A chastened face, humbled by suffering when alone, but proud andunyielding still before others. Mark Carter looking over his past knewjust where he had started down this road of pain, just where he hadmade the first mistake, sinned the first sin, chosen pride instead ofhumility, the devil instead of God. And to-night Mark Carter sat andfaced the immediate future and saw what was before him. As if a paintedmap lay out there on the wall before him, he saw the fire through whichhe must pass, and the way it would scorch the faces of those he loved, and his soul cried out in anguish at the sight. Back, back over hispast life he tramped again and again. Days when he and Lynn and herfather and mother had gone off on little excursions, with a lunch and adog and a book, and all the world of nature as their playground. Alittle thought, a trifling word that had been spoken, some bit ofbeauty at which they looked, an ant they watched struggling with acrumb too heavy for it, a cluster of golden leaves or the scarletberries of the squaw vine among the moss. How the memories made hisheart ache as he thought them out of the past. 

And the books they had read aloud, sometimes the minister, sometimeshis wife doing the reading, but always he was counted into the littlecircle as if they were a family. He had come to look upon them as hissecond father and mother. His own father he had never known. 

His eyes sought the bookcase near at hand. There they were, some ofthem birthday gifts and Christmases, and he had liked nothing betterthan a new book which he always carried over to be read in the company. Oh, those years! How the books marked their going! Even way back in hislittle boyhood! "Hans Brinker or the Silver Skates. " He touched itsworn blue back and silver letters scarcely discernible. "The Call ofthe Wild. " How he had thrilled to the sorrows of that dog! And how manylife lessons had been wrapped up in the creature's experience! How hadhe drifted so far away from it all? How could he have done it? No onehad pushed him, he had gone himself. He knew the very moment when afterdays of agony he had made the awful decision, scarcely believinghimself that he meant to stick by it; hoping against hope that somegreat miracle would come to pass that should change it all and put himback where he longed to be! How he had prayed and prayed in hischildish faith and agony for the miracle, and--_it had not come!_God had gone back on him. He had not kept His promises! And then he haddeliberately given up his faith. He could think back over all the daysand weeks that led up to this. Just after the time when he had been sohappy; had felt that he was growing up, and understanding so many ofthe great problems of life. The future looked rosy before him, becausehe felt that he was beginning to grasp wisdom and the sweetness ofthings. How little he had known of his own foolishness and sinfulness!

It was just after they had finished reading and discussing Dante'sVision. What a wonderful man Mr. Severn was that he had taken twochildren and guided them through that beautiful, fearful, wonderfulstory! How it had impressed him then, and stayed with him all theseawful months and days since he had trodden the same fiery way--!

He reached his hand out for the book, bound in dull blue cloth, thesymbol of its serious import. He had not opened the book since theyfinished it and Mr. Severn had handed it over to him and told him tokeep it, as he had another copy. He opened the book as if it had beenthe coffin of his beloved, and there between the dusty pages lay a bitof blue ribbon, creased with the pages, and jagged on the edges becauseit had been cut with a jack knife. And lying smooth upon it in a goldencurve a wisp of a yellow curl, just a section of one of Marilyn's, theday she put her hair up, and did away with the curls! He had cut theribbon from the end of a great bow that held the curls at the back ofher head, and then he had laughingly insisted on a piece of the curl, and they had made a great time collecting the right amount of hair, forMarilyn insisted it must not make a rough spot for her to brush. Thenhe had laid it in the book, the finished book, and shut it awaycarefully, and gone home, and the next day, --the very next day, thething had happened!

He turned the leaves sadly:

 "In midway of this our mortal life, I found me in a gloomy wood, astray Gone from the path direct:--"

It startled him, so well it fitted with his mood. It was himself, andyet he could remember well how he had felt for the writer when he heardit first. Terrible to sit here to-night and know it was himself all thetime the tale had been about! He turned a page or two and out from thetext there stood a line:

 "All hope abandon ye who enter here. "

That was the matter with himself. He had abandoned all hope. Over theleaf his eye ran down the page:

 "This miserable fate Suffer the wretched souls of those who lived Without praise or blame, with that ill band Of angels mixed, who nor rebellious proved Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves Were only. "

How well he remembered the minister's little comments as he read, howthe sermons had impressed themselves upon his heart as he listened, andyet here he was, himself, in hell! He turned over the pages againquickly unable to get away from the picture that grew in his mind, thevermilion towers and minarets, the crags and peaks, the "little brook, whose crimson'd wave, yet lifts my hair with horror, " he could see itall as if he had lived there many years. Strange he had not thoughtbefore of the likeness of his life to this. He read again:

 "O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire Alive art passing, --"

Yes, that was it. A City of Fire. He dwelt in a City of Fire! Hell!There was a hell on earth to-day and mortals entered it and dweltthere. He lived in that City of Fire continually now. He expected tolive there forever. He had sinned against God and his better self, andhad begun his eternal life on earth. It was too late ever to turn back. "All Hope abandon, ye who enter here. " He had read it and defied it. Hehad entered knowing what he was about, and thinking, poor fool that hewas, that he was doing a wise and noble thing for the sake of another. 

Over in the little parsonage, the white souled girl was walking in anearthly heaven. Ah! There was nothing, _nothing_ they had incommon now any more. She lived in the City of Hope and he in the Cityof Fire. 

He flung out the book from him and dropped his face into his handscrying softly under his breath, "Oh, Lynn, Lynn--Marilyn!"

XV

For one instant Lynn stood against the closed door, flaming with anger, her eyes flashing fire as they well knew how to flash at times. Thensuddenly her lips set close in a fine control the fire died out of hereyes, she drew a deep breath, and a quick whimsical smile lighted upher face, which nevertheless did not look in the least like onesubdued:

"You know I could get very angry at that if I chose and we'd have allkinds of a disagreeable time, but I think it would be a littlepleasanter for us both if you would cut that out, don't you?" She saidit in a cool little voice that sounded like one in entire command ofthe situation, and Opal turned around and stared at her admiringly. Then she laughed one of her wild silvery laughs that made them say shehad a lute-like voice, and sauntered over toward her hostess:

"You certainly are a queer girl!" she commented, "I suppose it would bebetter to be friends, inasmuch as we're to be roommates. Will you smokewith me?" and out from the depths of a beaded affair that was a part ofher frock and yet looked more like a bag than a pocket, she drew fortha gold cigarette case and held it out. 

Marilyn controlled the growing contempt in her face and answered withspirit:

"No, I don't smoke. And you won't smoke either--_not in here!_ I'msorry to seem inhospitable, but we don't do things like that aroundhere, and if you have to smoke you'll have to go out doors. "

"Oh, really?" Opal arched her already permanently arched, plucked browsand laughed again. "Well, you certainly have lots of pep. I believe I'mgoing to like you. Let's sit down and you tell me about yourself?"

"Why don't _you_ tell me about _yourself_?" hedged Marilynrelaxing into a chair and leaving the deep leather one for her guest, "I'm really a very simple affair, just a country girl very glad to gethome after four years at college. There's nothing complex and nothingto tell I assure you. "

"You're entirely too sophisticated for all that simplicity, " declaredOpal, "I suppose it's college that has given you so much poise. But whyaren't you impressed with Laurie? Simply _everybody_ is impressedwith Laurie! I don't believe you even know who he is!"

Lynn laughed:

"How should I? And what difference would it make any way? As for beingimpressed, he gave me the impression of a very badly spoiled boy outtrying to have his own way, and making a great fuss because he couldn'tget it. "

"And you didn't know that his father is William J. Shafton, themulti-millionaire?" Opal brought the words out like little sharppoints that seemed to glitter affluently as she spoke them. 

"No, " said Marilyn, "I didn't know. But it doesn't matter. We hadn'tanything better to offer him than we've given, and I don't know why Ishould have been impressed by that. A man is what he is, isn't he? Notwhat his father is. He isn't your--_brother_--is he? I was over atthe church when you arrived and didn't hear the introductions. I didn'teven get your name. "

Opal laughed uproariously as if the subject were overwhelminglyamusing:

"No, " she said recovering, "I'm just Opal. Fire Opal they call mesometimes, and Opalescence. That's Laurie's name for me, althoughlately he's taken to calling me Effervescence. No, he's not my brotherlittle Simple Lady, he's just one of my friends. Now don't lookshocked. I'm a naughty married lady run off on a spree for a littlefun. " Marilyn regarded her thoughtfully:

"Now stop looking at me with those solemn eyes! Tell me what you werethinking about me! I'd lots rather hear it. It would be somethingoriginal, I'm sure. You're nothing if not original!"

"I was just wondering why, " said Marilyn still thoughtfully. 

"Why what?"

"_Why. _ Why you did it. Why you wanted to be that kind of amarried woman when the real kind is so much more beautiful andsatisfactory. "

"What do you know about it?" blazed Opal, "You've never been married, have you?"

"My mother has had such a wonderful life with my father--and my fatherwith my mother!"

Opal stared at her amazed for an instant, then shrugged her shoulderslightly:

"Oh, _that!_" she said and laughed disagreeably, "If one wants tobe a saint, perhaps, but there aren't many _men_-saints I can tellyou! You haven't seen my husband or you wouldn't talk like that!Imagine living a saintly life with Ed Verrons! But my dear, wait tillyou're married! You won't talk that rubbish any more!"

"I shall never marry unless I can, " said Lynn decidedly, "It would beterrible to marry some one I could not love and trust!"

"Oh, love!" said Opal contemptuously, "You can love any one you want tofor a little while. Love doesn't last. It's just a play you soon gettired to death of. But if that's the way you feel don't pin your trustand your love as you call it to that princely icicle we saw down on thelawn. He's seen more of the world than you know. I saw it in his eyes. There! Now don't set your eyes to blazing again. I won't mention himany more to-night. And don't worry about me, I'm going to be good andrun back to-morrow morning in time to meet my dear old hubby in theevening when he gets back from a week's fishing in the Adirondacks, andhe'll never guess what a frolic I've had. But you certainly do amuse mewith your indifference. Wait till Laurie gets in some of his work onyou. I can see he's crazy already about you, and if I don't decide tocarry him off with me in the morning I'll miss my guess if he doesn'tshow you how altogether charming the son of William J. Shafton can be. He never failed to have a girl fall for him yet, not one that he_went_ after, and he's been after a good many girls I can tellyou. "

Lynn arose suddenly, her chin a bit high, a light of determination inher eyes. She felt herself growing angry again:

"Come and look at my view of the moon on the valley, " she saidsuddenly, pulling aside the soft scrim curtain and letting in a floodof moonlight. "Here, I'll turn out the light so you can see better. Isn't that beautiful?"

She switched off the lights and the stranger drew near apathetically, gazing out into the beauty of the moonlight as it touched the houseshalf hidden in the trees and vines, and flooded the Valley stretchingfar away to the feet of the tall dark mountains. 

"I hate mountains!" shuddered Opal, "They make me afraid! I almost ranover a precipice when I was coming here yesterday. If I have to go backthat same way I shall take Laurie, or if he won't go I'll cajole thatstunning prince of yours if you don't mind. I loathe being alone. That's why I ran down here to see Laurie!"

But Lynn had switched on the lights and turned from the window. Herface was cold and her voice hard:

"Suppose we go to bed, " she said, "will you have the bed next thewindow or the door? And what shall I get for you? Have you everything?See, here is the bathroom. Father and mother had it built for me for mybirthday. And the furniture is some of mother's grandmother's. They hadit done over for me. "

"It's really a dandy room!" said Opal admiringly, "I hadn't expected tofind anything like this, " she added without seeming to know she waspatronizing. "You are the only child, aren't you? Your father andmother just dote on you too. That must be nice. We had a whole housefulat home, three girls and two boys, and after father lost his money andhad to go to a sanitarium we had frightful times, never any money tobuy anything, the girls always fighting over who should have silkstockings, and mother crying every night when we learned to smoke. Ofcourse mother was old fashioned. I hated to have her weeping around allthe time, but all our set smoked and what could I do? So I just tookthe first good chance to get married and got out of it all. And Edisn't so bad. Lots of men are worse. And he gives me all the money Iwant. One thing the girls don't have to fight over silk stockings andsilk petticoats any more. I send them all they want. And I manage toget my good times in now and then too. But tell me, what in the worlddo you do in this sleepy little town? Don't you get bored to death? Ishould think you'd get your father to move to the city. There must beplenty of churches where a good looking minister like your father couldget a much bigger salary than out in the country like this. When I getback to New York I'll send for you to visit me and show you a real goodtime. I suppose you've never been to cabarets and eaten theatresuppers, and seen a real New York good time. Why, last winter I had anaffair that was talked of in the papers for days. I had the whole lowerfloor decorated as a wood you know, with real trees set up, and mossybanks, and a brook running through it all. It took days for theplumbers to get the fittings in, and then they put stones in thebottom, and gold fish, and planted violets on the banks and all kindsof ferns and lilies of the valley, everywhere there were flowersblossoming so the guests could pick as many as they wanted. The streamwas deep enough to float little canoes, and they stopped in grottoesfor champagne, and when they came to a shallow place they had to getout and take off their shoes and stockings and wade in the brook. Onthe opposite bank a maid was waiting with towels. The ladies sat downon the bank and their escorts had to wipe their feet and help them onwith their shoes and stockings again, and you ought to have heard theshouts of laughter! It certainly was a great time! Upstairs in the ballroom we had garden walks all about, with all kinds of flowers growing, and real birds flying around, and the walls were simply covered withAmerican beauty roses and wonderful climbers, in such bowers that theair was heavy with perfume. The flowers alone cost thousands--What'sthe matter? Did you hear something fall? You startled me, jumping uplike that! You're nervous aren't you? Don't you think music makespeople nervous?"

Marilyn smiled pathetically, and dropped back to the edge of her bed:

"Pardon me, " she said, "I was just in one of my tempers again. I getthem a lot but I'm trying to control them. I happened to think of thelittle babies I saw in the tenement districts when I was in New Yorklast. Did you ever go there? They wear one little garment, and totteraround in the cold street trying to play, with no stockings, and shoesout at the toes. Sometimes they haven't enough to eat, and theirmothers are so wretchedly poor and sorrowful--!"

"Mercy!" shuddered Opal, "How morbid you are! What ever did you go to aplace like that for? I always keep as far away from unpleasant thingsas I can. I cross the street if I see a blind beggar ahead. I justloathe misery! But however did you happen to think of them when I wastelling you about my beautiful ball room decorations?"

Lynn twinkled:

"I guess you wouldn't understand me, " she said slowly, "but I wasthinking of all the good those thousands of dollars would have done ifthey had been spent on babies and not on flowers. "

"Gracious!" said Opal. "I _hate_ babies! Ed is crazy about them, and would like to have the house full, but I gave him to understandwhat I thought about that before we were married. "

"I _love_ babies, " said Marilyn. "They want me to go this Fall anddo some work in that settlement, and I'm considering it. If it onlyweren't for leaving father and mother again--but I do love the babiesand the little children. I want to gather them all and do so manythings for them. You know they are all God's babies, and it seemspitiful for them to have to be in such a dreadful world as some of themhave!"

"Oh, _God_!" shuddered Opal quite openly now, "Don't talk aboutGod! I _hate_ God! He's just killed one of my best men friends! Iwish you wouldn't talk about God!"

Marilyn looked at her sadly, contemplatively, and then twitched hermouth into a little smile:

"We're not getting on very well, are we? I don't like your costlyentertainments, and you don't like my best Friend! I'm sorry. I mustseem a little prude to you I'm afraid, but really, God is not what youthink. You wouldn't hate Him, you would love Him, --if you _knew_Him. "

"Fancy knowing God--as you would your other friends! How_dreadful_! Let's go to bed!"

Opal began to get out her lovely brushes and toilet paraphernalia andLynn let down her wonderful golden mane and began to brush it, lookingexquisite in a little blue dimity kimona delicately edged with'valenciennes. Opal made herself radiant in a rose-chiffon and old-pointnegligee and went through numerous gyrations relating to thecomplexion, complaining meanwhile of the lack of a maid. 

But after the lights were out, and Lynn kneeling silently by her bed inthe moonlight, Opal lay on the other bed and watched her wonderingly, and when a few minutes later, Marilyn rose softly and crept into bed asquietly as possible lest she disturb her guest, Opal spoke:

"I wonder what you would do if a man--the man you liked best in all theworld, --had got killed doing something to please you. It makes you go_crazy_ when you think of it--someone you've danced with lyingdead that way all alone. I wonder what _you'd do_!"

Lynn brought her mind back from her own sorrows and prayers with a jerkto the problem of this strange guest. She did not answer for a moment, then she said very slowly:

"I think--I don't know--but I _think_ I should go right to God andask Him what to do. I think nobody else could show what ought to bedone. There wouldn't be anything else to do!"

"Oh, _murder_!" said Opal turning over in bed quickly, and hidingher face in the pillow, and there was in the end of her breath just thesuggestion of a shriek of fear. 

But far, far into the night Marilyn lay on her sleepless pillow, herheart crying out to God: "Oh, save Mark! Take care of Mark! Show himthe way back again!"

Afar in the great city a message stole on a wire through the night, andpresently the great presses were hot with its import, printingthousands and thousands of extras for early morning consumption, withheadlines in enormous letters across the front page:

"LAURENCE SHAFTON, SON OF WILLIAM J. SHAFTON, KIDNAPPED!"

"Mrs. Shafton is lying in nervous collapse as the result of threats fromkidnappers who boldly called her up on the phone and demanded a king'sransom, threatening death to the son if the plot was revealed beforeten o'clock this morning. The faithful mother gathered her treasureswhich included the famous Shafton Emeralds, and a string of pearlsworth a hundred thousand dollars, and let them down from her window asdirected, and then fainted, knowing nothing more till her maid hearingher fall, rushed into the room and found her unconscious. When rousedshe became hysterical and told what had happened. Then remembering thethreat of death for telling ahead of time she became crazy with grief, and it was almost impossible to soothe her. The maid called her familyphysician, explaining all she knew, and the matter was at once put intothe hands of capable detectives who are doing all they know how tolocate the missing son, who has been gone only since Saturday evening;and also to find the missing jewels and other property, and it is hopedthat before evening the young man will be found. "

Meantime, Laurence Shafton slept soundly and late in the minister'sstudy, and knew nothing of the turmoil and sorrow of his doting family. 

XVI

Though Mark had scarcely slept at all the night before he was on handlong before the city-bred youth was awake, taking apart the big machinethat stood in front of the parsonage. Like a skillful physician hetested its various valves and compartments, went over its enginecarefully, and came at last to the seat of the trouble which theminister had diagnosed the night before. 

Lynn with dark circles under her eyes had wakened early and slippeddown to the kitchen to help her mother and the little maid of all workwho lived down the street and was a member of the Sunday School and animportant part of the family. It was Naomi who discovered the youngmechanic at the front door. There was not much that Naomi did not see. She announced his presence to Marilyn as she was filling the saltcellars for breakfast. Marilyn looked up startled, and met her mother'seyes full of comfort and reassurance. Somehow when Mark came quietlyabout in that helpful way of his it was impossible not to have the oldconfidence in him, the old assurance that all would soon be right, theold explanation that Mark was always doing something quietly for othersand never taking care for himself. Marilyn let her lips relax into asmile and went about less heavy of heart. Surely, surely, somehow, Markwould clear himself of these awful things that were being said abouthim. Surely the day would bring forth a revelation. And Mark's actionlast night when he refused to speak with her, refused to let her touchhis arm, and called himself unworthy was all for her sake; all becausehe did not want her name sullied with a breath of the scandal thatbelonged to him. Mark would be that way. He would protect her always, even though he did not belong to her, even though he were not herfriend. 

She was almost cheerful again, when at last the dallying guestsappeared for a late breakfast. Mark was still working at the car, filing something with long steady grinding noises. She had seen himtwice from the window, but she did not venture out. Mark had not wishedher to speak to him, she would not go against his wish, --at least notnow--not until the guests were out of the way. That awful girl shouldhave no further opportunity to say things to her about Mark. She wouldkeep out of his way until they were gone. Oh, pray that the car wouldbe fixed and they pass on their way at once! Later, if there wereopportunity, she would find a way to tell Mark that he should notrefuse her friendship. What was friendship if it could not stand thestrain of falsehood and gossip, and even scandal if necessary. She wasnot ashamed to let Mark know she would be his friend forever. There wasnothing unmaidenly in that. Mark would understand her. Mark had alwaysunderstood her. And so she cheered her heavy heart through thebreakfast hour, and the foolish jesting of the two that sounded to heranxious ears, in the language of scripture, like the "crackling ofthorns under a pot. "

But at last they finished the breakfast and shoved their chairs back togo and look at the car. Mr. Severn and his wife had eaten long ago andgone about their early morning duties, and it had been Marilyn's dutyto do the honors for the guests, so she drew a sigh of relief, and, evading Laurie's proffered arm slid into the pantry and let them goalone. 

But when she glanced through the dining-room window a few minutes lateras she passed removing the dishes from the table, she saw Mark upon hisknees beside the car, looking up with his winning smile and talking toOpal, who stood close beside him all attention, with her little boyattitude, and a wide childlike look in her big effective eyes. Something big and terrible seemed to seize Marilyn's heart with avise-like grip, and be choking her breath in her throat. She turnedquickly, gathered up her pile of dishes and hurried into the pantry, herface white and set, and her eyes stinging with proud unshed tears. 

A few minutes later, dressed in brown riding clothes exquisitelytailored, and a soft brown felt hat, she might have been seen hurryingthrough the back fence, if anybody had been looking that way, acrossthe Joneses' lot to the little green stable that housed a riding horsethat was hers to ride whenever she chose. She had left word with Naomithat she was going to Economy and would be back in time for lunch, andshe hoped in her heart that when she returned both of their guestswould have departed. It was perhaps a bit shabby of her to leave it allon her mother this way, but mother would understand, and very likely beglad. 

So Lynn mounted her little brown horse and rode by a circuitous way, across the creek, and out around the town to avoid passing her ownhome, and was presently on her way up to the crossroads down whichLaurie Shafton had come in the dark midnight. 

As she crossed the Highway, she noticed the Detour, and paused aninstant to study the peculiar sign, and the partly cleared way around. And while she stood wondering a car came swiftly up from the Economyway past the Blue Duck Tavern. The driver bowed and smiled and sheperceived it was the Chief of Police from Economy, a former resident ofSabbath Valley, and very much respected in the community, and with himin the front seat, was another uniformed policeman!

With a sudden constriction at her heart Marilyn bowed and rode on. Washe going to Sabbath Valley? Was there truth in the rumor that Mark wasin trouble? She looked back to see if he had turned down the Highway, but he halted the car with its nose pointed Sabbath Valleyward and gotout to examine the Detour on the Highway. She rode slowly and turnedaround several times, but as long as she was in sight his car remainedstanding pointed toward the Valley. 

XVII

Billy awoke to the light of day with the sound of a strange car goingby. The road through Sabbath Valley was not much frequented, and Billyknew every car that usually travelled that way. They were mostlyEconomy and Monopoly people, and as there happened to be a mountaintrolley between the two towns higher up making a circuit to touch atBrooktown, people seldom came this way. Therefore at the unusual soundBilly was on the alert at once. One movement brought him upright withhis feet upon the floor blinking toward his window, a second carriedhim to shelter behind the curtain where he could see the stranger goby. 

Billy had reduced the science of dressing to a fine degree. He couldclimb into the limited number of summer garments in less time than anyboy in the community, and when he saw that the car had halted justabove the house and that the driver was interviewing Jim Rafferty, hereached for a handful of garments, and began to climb, keeping one eyeout the window for developments. Was that or was it not the Chief's carout there? If it was what did it want?

Billy was in socks, trousers and shirt by the time the car began topuff again for starting, and he stove his feet into his old shoes anddove down stairs three steps at a stride and out the door where hesuddenly became a casual observer of the day. 

"Hullo, Billy! That you?" accosted the Chief driving slowly down thestreet, "Say, Billy, you haven't seen Mark Carter, have you? They saidhe had gone down to the blacksmith's to get something fixed for a car. I thought perhaps you'd seen him go by. "

Billy shook his head lazily:

"Nope, " he said, "I've been busy this morning. He mighta gone by. "

"Well I'll just drive down and see!" The car started on and turned intothe Lane that led to the blacksmith shop. 

Billy dove into the house, made short work of his ablutions, gave hishair a brief lick with the brush, collected his cap and sweater, boltedthe plate of breakfast Aunt Saxon had left on the back of the stovewhen she went away for her regular Monday's wash, and was ready behindthe lilac bush with old trusty, down on his knees oiling her a bit, when the Chief drove back with Mark Carter in the back seat lookingstrangely white and haughty, but talking affably with the Chief. 

His heart sank. Somehow he knew something was wrong with Mark. Mark wasin his old clothes with several pieces of iron in his hand as if hehadn't taken time to lay them down. Billy remained in hiding andwatched while the Chief's car stopped at Carter's and Mark got out. Thecar waited several minutes, and then Mark came out with his goodclothes on and his best hat, and got into the car and they drove off, Mark looking stern and white. Billy shot out from his hiding andmounting his steed flew down the road, keeping well behind the maplesand hedges, and when the Chief's car stopped in front of the parsonagehe dismounted and stepped inside Joneses' drive to listen. Mark gotout, sprang up the steps, touched the bell, and said to someone whoappeared at the door, "Mr. Shafton, I'm sorry, but I'll not be able toget those bearings fixed up to-day. The blacksmith doesn't seem to haveanything that will do. I find I have to go over to Economy on business, and I'll look around there and see if anybody has any. I expect to beback by twelve o'clock, and will you tell the lady that I will be readyto start at half-past if that will suit her. I am sure we shall haveplenty of time to get her to Beechwood by five or sooner. If anythingoccurs to keep me from going I'll telephone you in an hour, so that shecan make other arrangements. Thank you, Mr. Shafton. Sorry I couldn'tfix you up right away, but I'll look after the lady for you. " Markhurried back to the car again and they drove off. 

Billy escorted the Department of Justice distantly, as far as theCrossing at the Highway, from which eminence he watched until he sawthat they stopped at the Blue Duck Tavern for a few minutes, afterwhich they went on toward Economy; then he inspected the recentclearing of his detour, obviously by the Chief, and hurried down theHighway toward the railroad Crossing at Pleasant View. It was almosttrain time, and he had a hunch that there might be somethinginteresting around that hidden telephone. If he only had had more timehe might have arranged to tap the wire and listen in without having togo so near, but he must do the best he could. 

When he reached a point on the Highway where Pleasant View station waseasily discernible he dismounted, parked his wheel among thehuckleberries, and slid into the green of the Valley. Stealingcautiously to the scene of the Saturday night hold-up he finallysucceeded in locating the hidden telephone, and creeping into a wellscreened spot not far away arranged himself comfortably to wait tillthe trains came. He argued that Pat would likely come down to report orget orders about the same time as before, and so in the stillness ofthe morning he lay on the ground and waited. He could hear a songsparrow high up on the telegraph wire, sing out its wild sweet lonelystrain: Sweet--sweetsweetsweet--sweetsweet--sweetsweet--! and a hum ofbees in the wild grape that trailed over the sassafras trees. Besidehim a little wood spider stole noiselessly on her busy way. But hisheart was heavy with new burdens and he could not take his usualrhapsodic joy in the things of Nature. What was happening to Mark andwhat could he do about it? Perhaps Mark would have been better off ifhe had left him in the old house on Stark's mountain. The chiefcouldn't have found him then and the kidnappers would have kept himsafe for a good many days till they got some money. But there wouldn'thave _been_ any money! For Mark wasn't the right man! And thekidnappers would have found it out pretty soon and _what_ wouldthey have done to Mark? Killed him perhaps so they wouldn't get intoany more trouble! There was no telling! And time would have gone on andnobody would have known what had become of Mark. And the murder trial--if it was really a murder--would come off and they couldn't find Mark, and of course they would think Mark had killed the man and then runaway. And Mark would never be able to come home again! No, he was gladMark was out and safe and free from dope. At least Mark would know whatto do to save himself. Or would he? Billy suddenly had his doubts. Would Mark take care of himself, just himself, or not? Mark was alwayslooking after other people, but he had somehow always let people sayand do what they would with him. Aw gee! Now Mark wouldn't let themlocate a thing like a murder on him, would he? And there was Miss Lynn!And Mark's mother! Mark oughtta think of them. Well, maybe he wouldn'trealize how much they did care. Billy had a sudden revelation thatmaybe that was half the matter, Mark didn't know how much any of themcared. Back in his mind there was an uncomfortable memory of AuntSaxon's pink damp features and anxious eyes and a possible applicationof the same principle to his own life, as in the case of Judas. But hewasn't considering himself now. There might come a time when he wouldhave to change his tactics with regard to Aunt Saxon somewhat. Shecertainly had been a good sport last night. But this wasn't the time toconsider that. He had a great deal more important matters to think ofnow. He had to find out how he could make it perfectly plain to theworld that Mark Carter had not shot a man after twelve o'clock Saturdaynight at the Blue Duck Tavern. And as yet he didn't see any way withoutincriminating himself as a kidnapper. This cut deep because in thestrict sense of the word he was not a kidnapper, because he hadn'tmeant to be a kidnapper. He had only meant to play a joke on thekidnappers, and at worst his only really intended fault had been theputting up of that detour on the Highway. But he had an uncomfortableconviction that he wouldn't be able to make the Chief and theConstable, and some of those people over at Economy Court House see itthat way. As matters stood he was safe if he kept his mouth shut. Nobody knew but Mark, and he didn't know the details. Besides, Markwould never tell. Mark would even go to trial for murder before hewould let himself out by telling on Billy, Billy knew that as well ashe knew that the old mountain on whose feet he lay stretched now wouldstand up there for ages and always keep his secret for him. Mark wasthat way. That was why it made it worse for Billy. Judas again! Billywas surprised to find how much Judas-blood there seemed to be in him. He lay there and despised himself without being able to help himselfout or think of anything he could do. And then quite suddenly as he wasgoing over the whole circumstance from the time he first listened toPat's message into the moss of the mountain, until now, the nameShafton came to him. Laurence Shafton. Shafton, son of William J. , ofGates and Shafton. Those were the words the telephone had squeaked outquite plainly. And Shafton. Mr. Shafton. That was the name Mark hadcalled the guy with the car at the parsonage. Mr. Shafton. The sameguy, of course. Bah! What a mess he had made of it all. Got Markkidnapped, landed that sissy-guy on the Severns for no knowing howlong, and perhaps helped to tangle Mark up in a murder case. Aw Gee!There's the train! What could he do? That rich guy! Well, there wasn'tanything to that. He would get out as soon as Mark got his car fixed upand never know he had been kidnapped. And what was he, Billy, waitinghere for anyway? Just a chance! Just to see whether Pat and Sam hadfound out yet that their quarry had vanished. Just to wonder what hadbecome of Link and Shorty. 

The trains came and went, and the hush settled down once more at thestation. From where he lay, hidden under a ledge, with a thick growthof laurel and sumac between him and the world, Billy could not see thestation platform, and had no means of telling whether Pat was about ornot. 

He had lain still a long time and was beginning to think that his triphad been in vain, when he heard a soft crackling of the twigs abovehim, a heavy tread crashing through the bushes, a puffing snortingbreath from the porpoise-like Pat, and he held his own breath and layvery still. Suppose Pat should take a new trail and discover his hidingplace? His heart pounded with great dull thuds. But Pat slid heavilydown to the little clearing below him, fumbled a moment with his key, and then in a gruff guarded voice called:

"Hullo! Hullo! Sam? That you? Yes, aw'right! Yes, aw'right! How'sthings? What? Hell's to pay? Whaddaya mean hell? Ain't you gonta put itover? After all my trouble you ain't a gonta let that million slipthrough? What? Oh! Who? The Valet? He's beat it, has he? Whaddaya mean?_He_ took 'em? _He_ took the pearls an' diamonds? Well, Em'ruls then!What's tha diffrunce? _We_ ain't gottum have we? Oh, bonds too! Well, whattya gonta do about it? Move him? What, the rich guy? Move himwhere? _Why?_ We ain'ta gonta run no more risks. Link an' Shorty aresore 'za pup when they come. I don't think they'll stan' for it. Well, where'll ya move him? Who? Shorty? Oh, Link? Both? Well, I ain't seen'em. I tol' 'em to keep good an' far away from me. I don't build onloosin' this job just now, See? What? It's in the papers a'ready?You don't say! Well, who you figger done that? That Valet? Well, where's the harm? Can't you work it all the better? We got the guy, ain't we? _He_ ain't gottim that's certain. We c'n deliver the goods, so we get the reward. How much reward they offerin? You don't say!Well, I should say, get in yer work soon 'fore we get caught. Aw'right!I'm with ya. Well, s'long! I'll be down here at nine sharp. Take atrip to China with ya next week ef ya pull it off. Aw'right! Goobby!"and Pat hung up and puffed his way up the hill again, leaving Billydrenched with perspiration and filled with vague plans, and deepanxiety. He had got a clue but what good was it? How could hework it to the salvation of Mark? He could easily put the sissy overat the parsonage wise, do him a good turn, save his dad some money, but what good would that do Mark? Mark needed to establish an alibi, he could see that with half an eye, but how would anything Billy knewhelp that along unless--unless he told on himself? For a moment a longtrail of circumstances that would surely follow such a sacrificialordinance appeared before him and burned into his soul, most prominentamong them being Aunt Saxon, hard worked and damp-pink-eyed, crying herheart out for the boy she had tried faithfully to bring up. And MissLynn. How sad her eyes would grow if Billy had to be tried andsentenced to prison. Not that Billy was afraid to go to prison, in factthe thought of it as an experience was rather exhilirating than not, but he was afraid to have those two know he had gone, afraid of theireyes, their sad eyes! Yes, and he was afraid of the thought of his owningratitude, for down deep in his heart he could see a long line ofthings Aunt Saxon had done for him that she hadn't been obliged to do. Going without a new winter coat to get him an overcoat. His old one waswarm, but his arms were out of it too far and he wouldn't wear it. Sitting up nights the time he drank swamp water and had the fever! Thatwas fierce! How he did rag her! And how patiently she bore it! Thescare she had when the dog bit him! As if a little dog bite wasanything! Doggone it, why were women such fools!

And now this! Billy sat up with a jerk and shook himself free from thedead moss and leaves, wending his way sulkily across to where he hadleft his wheel, and pondering--pondering. "Shafton!" There ought to besomething there to work on, but there wasn't!

Meantime Marilyn rode hard down the way to Economy, not slowing herpony till they reached the outskirts of Economy. Her mind was in such atumult that she felt as if she were being whirled on with circumstanceswithout having a will to choose one thing from another. Mark! Theunwelcome guests! Mark and Opal! Mark and Cherry! _Cherry!_ TheChief of Police! Mark! And yes, Cherry! She was on her way to see_Cherry!_ But what was she going to do when she got there, and howwas she to excuse her strange visit after almost five years since shehad seen the child? If there was truth in the rumor that she wasconnected with a shooting affair at the Blue Duck, and especially ifthere was truth in the charge that Mark had been going with her, wouldit not seem strange--perhaps be misconstrued by Cherry? By her family?They had all known of her own intimacy with Mark in the past. Sheshrank from the idea. Yet Marilyn Severn had not been brought up toregard public opinion when it was a question of doing something thatought to be done. The only question was, was it really something thatought to be done or was she letting Billy influence her unduly? Billywas shrewd. He knew Mark. He knew a lot more than he ever told. Whatdid Billy know? How she wished she had asked her father's advise beforecoming, and yet, if she had, he might have been unduly influenced bydreading to have her put herself in the position of prying into thematter. 

As she rode and pondered she came near to the little house on thevillage street where Cherry lived, a house set out plumb with thesidewalk, and a little gate at the side to go round to the back doorwhere the family lived, the front room being the tailor shop. As shedrew near she looked up and was sure she saw Cherry in a short narrowskirt and an old middy blouse scurrying through the gate to the backdoor, and her heart thumped so hard she was almost tempted to ride onto the store first before making her call. But something in her thatalways held her to a task until it was completed forced her to dismountand knock at the door. 

It seemed long to wait with her heart thumping so, and why did itthump? She found herself praying, "O God, show me what to say!" andthen the door was open a crack and a sharp wizened face with a strikingresemblance to Cherry's bold little beauty, was thrust at her. It mustbe Cherry's mother. Of course it was!

"Mr. Fenner ain't in the shop!" said the woman, "He can't do nothinto-day. He's sick!"

Marilyn smiled: "But I wanted to see Cherry, " she said, "Aren't you hermother? Don't you remember me? I'm Marilyn Severn, her old musicteacher. Is Cherry in?"

A frightened look passed over the woman's face as she scanned the sweetface before her, and then a wily expression darted into her eyes:

"Oh, " she said with a forced smirk, "Yes, Miss Marilyn. Excuse me fernot recognizing you. You've grown a lot. Why no, Cherry ain't at homethis morning. She'll be awful sorry not to see you. She thought a lotof you, she did. She got on so well with you in her music too. I saysto her the other day, I says Cherry, I hear Miss Marilyn is home again, you'll have to take up yer music again, and she says yes, she guessedshe would. She'll be round some day to see you. Sorry I can't ask youin, but Mr. Fenner's pretty sick. Oh, just the grip I guess. He'll soonbe all right. "

She began to realize that the woman was in a hurry to get rid of herand she hastened away, relieved yet puzzled at the whole affair. Sherode down into the village mechanically and bought a spool of silk andthe coffee strainer which had been her legitimate errand to thevillage, and turning back had scarcely passed the last house before shesaw the Chief's car coming toward her, and Mark, his face white andhaggard, looking out from the back seat. He drew back as he recognizedher, and tried to hide, and she rode on with only a passing bow whichcomprehended the whole car; but she was aware of Mark's eyes upon her, steadily, watching her. She would have known he was watching her fromthe darkness of the back seat if her own eyes had been shut. What wasit all about and what were they doing to Mark?

XVIII

The last house in the village on the road to Economy was theHarricutt's. It was built of gray cement blocks that the elder hadtaken for a bad debt, and had neither vine nor blossom to soften itsgrimness. Its windows were supplied with green holland shades, and itsfront door-yard was efficiently manned with plum trees and a peach, while the back yard was given over to vegetables. Elder Harricuttwalked to Economy every day to his office in the Economy bank. He saidit kept him in good condition physically. His wife was small and primwith little quick prying eyes and a false front that had a tendency togo askew. She wore bonnets with strings and her false teeth didn'tquite fit; they clicked as she talked. She kept a watch over the roadat all times and very little ever got by her unnoticed. 

In wholesome contrast next door was the trim little white cottage whereTom McMertrie and his mother Christie lived, smothered in vines andablaze with geraniums all down the front walk. And below that, almostfacing the graveyard was a little green shingled bungalow. MaryRafferty kept her yard aglow with phlox, verbenas and pansies, andrevelled in vines and flowering shrubs. 

These two women were wonderful friends, though forty years marchedbetween them. Mary's hair was black as a crow's wing above her greatpansy-blue eyes with their long curling lashes, while Christie's hairwas sandy silver and her tongue full of brrrs. They had opposite pantrywindows on the neighboring sides of their houses, where they oftentalked of a morning while Christie moulded her sweet loaves of bread ormixed scones and Mary made tarts and pies and cake for Jim's supper. Somehow without much being said about it they had formed a combinationagainst their hard little knot of a neighbor behind the holland shades. 

The first house on the side street that ran at right angles to the mainthoroughfare, just below Rafferty's, was Duncannon's. A picket fence atthe side let into the vegetable gardens of the three, and the quietlittle Mrs. Duncannon with the rippley brown hair and soft brown eyesoften slipped through and made a morning call under cover of the kindlypole beans that hid her entrances and exits perfectly from any greenholland shaded windows that might be open that way. Jane Duncannonformed a third in this little combination. 

On the Monday morning following the session meeting Mary Rafferty andChristie McMertrie were at their respective pantry windows flingingtogether some toothsome delicacies for the evening meal, that all mightmove smoothly during the busy day. 

A neat line of flopping clothes glimmered in each back yard over thetrim "green" that stretched across in front of the back door, and theirons were on in both kitchens preparing for a finish as soon as a"piece" should show signs of dry. 

"Hev ye haird whut the extra session meetin' was called for, Mary?"asked the older woman looking up from her mixing bowl. "Tom went to themill to tak the place of the noight watchman. His feyther's dyin' yeken, and Tom's not come by yet. I thot ye might hev haird. "

Mary lifted her eyes with troubled glance:

"Not yet, " she said, "but I'm thinkin of running over to Duncannons assoon as I get these pies in the oven. The clothes won't be dry for awhile, an' I'll take my pan of peas to shell. She'll know of course. Maybe it's nothing much, --but Jim said they held up Mark Carter andmade him come in. It was ten minutes of ten before he got away--! Youdon't suppose anybody's taken the gossip to the session do you?"

"There's one we know well would be full cawpable of the same, " affirmedChristie patting her biscuits into place and tucking the bread clothdeftly over them, "But I'd be sorry to see a meenister an' a session aswud be held up by one poor whimperin' little elder of the like of him. "

"Mr. Severn won't, I'm sure o' that!" said Mary trustingly, "but therecomes Mrs. Duncannon now, I'll run over and see what's in the wind. "

Mrs. Duncannon had grown a smile on her gentle face that was like astwo peas to her husband's wide kindly grin, but there was no smile onher face this morning as she greeted her two friends, and dropped intoa chair by the door of Christie's immaculate kitchen, and her softbrown eyes were snapping: She had an air of carrying kindly mysteriousexplosives:

"Did ye hear that the old ferret held up Mark Carter last night and asgood as called him a murderer in the face of the whole session?" sheasked breathlessly. 

"And whut said our meenister to thot?" inquired Christie. 

Jane Duncannon flashed her a twinkle of appreciation:

"He just clapped the senior elder in the chair as neat as a pin in apincushion an' moved an expression of confidence, _utmost_confidence was the word--!"

"Mmmmmmmm! I thot as much!" commented Christie, "The blessed mon!"

"Oh, I'm so glad!" sighed Mary Rafferty sinking into a chair, "Jimthinks the sun rises and sets in Mark Carter. They were kids togetheryou know. He says people don't know Mark. And he said if they turnedMark down at the church now, if they didn't stand by him in histrouble, he had no more use for their religion!"

"Don't you believe it, Mary Rafferty! Jim Rafferty loves the veryground the meenister walks on!"

"What was that?" exclaimed Jane Duncannon running to the side window. "A strange car! Mary, come here! Is that the Chief of Police fromEconomy?"

Mary darted to the window followed by the elder woman:

"Yes, it is!" she exclaimed drawing back aghast, "You _don't_suppose he's going to Carter's? He _wouldn't_ do that would he?"

"He huz to do his dooty, doesn't he?" mused Christie, "But thot's notsayin' he _loikes_ it, child!"

"Well, he might find a way not to frighten his mother--!"

Mrs. Duncannon stretched her neck to see if he was really stopping atthe parsonage, and Christie murmured: "Perhaps he will. "

The little group lingered a moment, till Mary bethought her of her piesin the oven and the three drifted thriftily back to their morningtasks, albeit with mind and heart down in the village. 

Presently on the glad morning air sounded again the chug chug of themotor, bringing them sharply back to their windows. Yes, there was theChief's car again. And Mark Carter with white haggard face sat in theback seat! Apprehension flew to the soul of each loyal woman. 

But before the sound of the Chief's motor bearing Mark CarterEconomyward had passed out of hearing, Jane Duncannon in a neat browndress with a little round brown ribboned hat set trimly on her rippleyhair, and a little round basket on her arm covered daintily with awhite napkin, was nipping out her tidy front gate between thesunflowers and asters and tripping down Maple street as if it had beenon her mind to go ever since Saturday night. 

Even before Mary Rafferty had turned from her Nottingham laced parlorwindow and gone with swift steps to her kitchen door Christie McMertriestood on her back step with her sunbonnet on and a glass of jellywrapped in tissue paper in her hand:

"She's glimpsed 'em, " she whispered briefly, with a nod toward theholland shades, "an' she's up in her side bedroom puttin' on her Sundaybunnit. She'll be oot the door in another two meenits, the little blackcrow! If we bide in the fields we can mak Carters' back stoop afore shegets much past the tchurch!"

Mary Rafferty caught up her pan of peas, dashed them into a basket thathung on the wall by the door, and bareheaded as she was hastened outthrough the garden after her friend for all the world as if she weregoing to pick more peas. Down the green lane between the bean polesthey hurried through the picket gate, pushing aside the big grayDuncannon cat who basked in the sun under a pink hollyhock with aDuncannon smile on its gray whiskers like the rest of the family. 

"Jane! Jane Duncannon!" called Christie McMertrie. But the hollowechoes in the tidy kitchen flung back emptily, and the plate ofsteaming cinnamon buns on the white scrubbed table spoke as plainly aswords could have done that no one was at home. 

"She's gone!"

The two hurried around the house, through the front gate, across thestreet with a quick glance up and down to be sure that the Petriebabies playing horse in the next yard were their only observers, andthen ducking under the bars of the fence they scuttled down a slope, crossed a trickle of a brook that hurried creekward, and up theopposite bank. Behind Little's barn they paused to glance back. Someone was coming out the Harricutt door, some one wearing a bonnet and ablack veil. They hurried on. There were two more fences separating themeadows. 

Mary went over and Christie between. They made quick work of the restof the way and crept panting through the hedge at the back of Carter'sjust as Jane Duncannon swung open the little gate in front with aglimpse back up the street in triumph and a breath of relief that shehad won. By only so much as a lift of her lashes and a lighting of hersoft brown eyes did she recognize and incorporate the other two in hererrand, and together the three entered the Carter house by the sideentrance, with a neighborly tap and a call: "Miz Carter, you home?"

Quick nervous steps overhead, a muffled voice calling catchily, "Yes, I'm coming, just set down, won't you?" and they dropped into threedining-room chairs and drew 'breath, mopping their warm faces withtheir handkerchiefs and trying to adjust their minds to the next move. 

Their hostess gave them no time to prepare a program. She camehurriedly down stairs, obviously anxious, openly with every nerve onthe qui vive, and they saw at once that she had been crying. Her hairwas damp about her forehead as if from hasty ablution. She looked fromone to another of her callers with a frightened glance that went beyondthem as if looking for others to come, as she paused in the doorwaypuzzled. 

"This is a s'prise party, Miz Carter, " began Jane Duncannon laughing, "We all brought our work along and can't stay but a minute, but we gotan idea an' couldn't keep it till Ladies' Aid. You got a minute tospare? Go get your knitting and set down. _Now_! It's Miz'Severn'sbirthday next Sat'day an' we thought 'twould be nice to get her apresent. What do you think about it?"

Mrs. Carter who had stood tensely in the doorway, her fingers whitelygripping the woodwork, her face growing whiter every minute, suddenlyrelaxed with relief in every line of her body, and bloomed into asmile:

"Oh, why, _is_ it? Of course! What'll it be? Why, couldn't wefinish that sunburst bed quilt we started last year while she was away?If we all get at it I think we could finish. There's some real fastquilters in the Aid. Wait, till I get my apples to pare. I promisedMark I'd have apple sauce for lunch!"

A quick glance went from eye to eye and a look of relief settled downon the little company. She _expected Mark home for lunch_ then!

They were in full tide of talk about the quilting pattern when a knockcame on the front door, and Mary Rafferty jumped up and ran to open it. They heard the Harricutt voice, clear, sharp, incisive:

"I came to sympathize--!" and then as Mary swung her face into thesunlight the voice came suddenly up as against a stone wall with a gaspand "Oh, it's _you_! Where's Mrs. Carter? I wish to see Mrs. Carter. "

"She's right back in the dining-room, Mrs. Harricutt. Come on back. We're talking over how to celebrate Miz Severn's birthday. Do you likea straight quilting or diamond, Miz Harricutt: It's for the sunburstcoverlet you know!"

"The sunburst coverlet!" exclaimed Mrs. Harricutt irately, as thoughsomehow it were an indecent subject at such a time as this, but shefollowed Mary back to the dining-room with a sniff of curiosity. Shefairly gasped when she saw Mrs. Carter with her small sensitive facebright with smiles:

"Just take that chair by the window, Mrs. Harricutt, " she said affably, "and _excuse me_ fer not getting up. I've got to get these appleson the fire, for I promised Mark some apple sauce for lunch, and helikes it stone cold. "

Mrs. Harricutt pricked up her ears:

"Oh, Mark is coming home for _lunch_ then!" Her voice was cold, sharp, like a steel knife dipped in lemon juice. There was a bit of acurl on the tip of it that made one wince as it went through the soul. Little Mrs. Carter flushed painfully under her sensitive skin, up tothe roots of her light hair. She had been pretty in her girlhood, andMark had her coloring in a stronger way. 

"Oh, yes, he's coming home for lunch, " she answered brightly, glad ofthis much assurance. "And he has to have it early because he has todrive that strange young woman from the parsonage back somewhere downin New Jersey. She came alone by herself yesterday, but the mountainpasses sort of scairt her, and she asked Mark to drive back with her. "

"Oh!" There was a challenge in the tone that called the red to Mrs. Carter's cheek again, But Christie McMertrie's soft burring tongue slidin smoothly:

"What wad ye think o' the briar pattern around the edge? I know it'ssome worruk, but it's a bonnie border to lie under, an' it's not sotedious whan there's plenty o' folks to tak a hand. "

They carried the topic along with a whirl then and Mrs. Harricutt hadno more chance to harry her hostess. Then suddenly Mary arose in apanic:

"I left my pies in the oven!" she cried, "They'll be burned to a crisp. I must go. Miz Harricutt, are you going along now? I'll walk with you. I want to ask you how you made that plum jam you gave me a taste of theother day. Jim thinks it is something rare, and I'll have to be makingsome or he'll never be satisfied, that is if you don't mind--!" andbefore Mrs. Carter realized what was happening Mary had marshalled theHarricutt vulture down the street, and was questioning eagerly aboutmeasures of sugar and plums and lemon peel and nuts:

"Now, " said Christie setting down her jelly glass that she had beenholding all this time, "We'll be ganging awa. There's a bit jar ofraspberry jam for the laddie with the bright smile, an' you think itover and run up and say which pattern you think is bonniest. "

"It was just beautiful of you all to come--" said little Mrs. Carterlooking from one to another in painful gratitude--why it's been just_dear_ for you to run in this way--"

"Yes, a regular party!" said Jane Duncannon squeezing her hand withunderstanding. "See, Mary has left her peas. You'd best put them on toboil for Mark. He'll be coming back pretty soon. Come, Christie, wumman, it's time we was back at our worruk!" and they hurried throughthe hedge and across the meadows to their home once more, but as theyentered the Duncannon gate they marked Billy Gaston, head down, pedalling along over on Maple Street, his jaws keeping rhythmic timewith his feet. 

One hour later the smooth chug of a car that was not altogetherunfamiliar to their ears brought those four women eagerly to theirrespective windows, and as the old clock chimed the hour of noon theybeheld Mark Carter driving calmly down the street toward his own homein his own car. _His own car!_ and Billy Gaston lounging lazily byhis side still chewing rhythmically. 

Mark's Car! Mark! Billy! _Ah Billy!_ Three of them mused with anote of triumph in their eyes. 

And Mrs. Harricutt as she rolled her Sunday bonnet strings mused:

"Now, how in the world did that Mark Carter get his own car down toEconomy when he went up with the Chief? He had it down here thismorning, I know, for I saw him riding round. And that little imp of aBilly! I wonder why he always tags him round! Miss Saxon ought to bewarned about that! I'll have to do it! But how in the world did Markget his car?"

Billy enjoyed his lunch that day, a bit of cold chicken and bread, twojuicy red cheeked apples, and an unknown quantity of sugary doughnutsfrom the stone crock in the pantry. He sat on the side step munchingthe last doughnut he felt he could possibly swallow. Mark was home andall was well. Himself had seen the impressive glance that passedbetween Mark and the Chief at parting. The Chief trusted Mark that wasplain. Billy felt reassured. He reflected that that guy Judas had beenprecipitate about hanging himself. If he had only waited and_done_ a little something about it there might have been adifferent ending to the story. It was sort of up to Judas anyway, having been the cause of the trouble. 

With this virtuous conclusion Billy wiped the sugar from his mouth, mounted his wheel and went forth to browse in familiar and muchneglected pastures. 

He eyed the Carter house as he slid by. Mrs. Carter was placidlyshaking out the table cloth on the side porch. Mark had eaten his applesauce and gone. He passed Browns, Todds, Bateses, chasing a white henthat had somehow escaped her confines, but in front of Joneses hesuddenly became aware of the blue car that stood in front of theparsonage. It had come to life and was throbbing. It was backing towardhim and going to turn around. On the sidewalk leaning on a cane stoodthe obnoxious stranger for whose presence in Sabbath Valley he, BillyGaston, was responsible. He lounged at ease with a smile on his uglymug and acted as if he lived there! There was nothing about hisappearance to suggest _his_ near departure. His disabled car stillstood silent and helpless beside the curb. Aw _Gee_!

Billy swerved to the other side of the road to avoid the blue car at ahair's breadth, but as it turned he looked up impudently to behold thestrange girl with the flour on her face and the green baseball bats inher ears smiling up into the face of Mark Carter, who was driving. Billy nearly fell off his wheel and under the car, but recovered hisbalance in time to swerve out of the way without apparently having beenobserved by either Mark or the lady, and shot like a streak down theroad. Beyond the church he drew a wide curve and turned in at thegraveyard, casting a quick furtive eye toward the parsonage, where hewas glad not to discover even the flutter of a garment to show thatLynn Severn was about. That guy was there, but Miss Lynn was notchasing him. That was as it should be. He breathed a sigh from hisheavy heart and stole sadly, back to the old mossy stone where so manyof his life problems had been thought out. Still, that guy _wasthere! He_ had the advantage! And Mark and that lady! Bah! He satdown to meditate on Judas and his sins. It seemed that life was justabout as disappointing as it could be! His rough young hand leaned hardagainst the grimy old stone till the half worn lettering hurt his fleshand he shifted his position and lifted his hand. There on the palm werethe quaint old letters, imprinted in the flesh, "Blessed are the dead--" Gosh yes! _Weren't_ they? Judas had been right after all. "AwGee!" he said aloud, "Whatta fool I bin!" He glanced down at the stoneas he rubbed the imprint from the fleshy part of his hand. The rest ofthe text caught his eye. "Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord!"There was a catch in that of course. It wasn't blessed if you didn't_die in the Lord_. "In the Lord" meant that you didn't do anythingJudas-like. He understood. The people who didn't die in the Lordweren't blessed. They didn't go to heaven, whatever heaven was. Theywent to _hell_. Heaven had never seemed very attractive to Billywhen he thought of it casually, and he had taken it generally forgranted that he being a boy was naturally destined for the other place. In fact until he knew Lynn Severn he had always told himself calmlythat he _expected_ to go to hell sometime, it had seemed the manlything to do. Most men to his mind were preparing for hell. It seemedthe masculine place of final destiny, Heaven was for women. He hadventured some of this philosophy on his aunt once in a particularlystrenuous time when she had told him that he couldn't expect the rewardof the righteous if he continued in his present ways, but she had beenso horrified, and wept so long and bitterly that he hadn't ever had thenerve to try it again. And since Marilyn Severn had been his teacher hehad known days when he would almost be willing to go to heaven--for hersake. He had also suspected, at times, that Mr. Severn was fully asmuch of a man as Mark Carter, although Mark was _his own_, and ifMark decided to go to hell Billy felt there could be no other destinyfor himself. 

But now, face to face with realities, Billy suddenly began to realizewhat hell was going to be like. Billy felt hell surrounding him. Flamescould not beat the reproach that now flared him in the face and stunghim to the quick with his own sinfulness. He, Billy Gaston, Captain ofthe Sabbath Valley Base Ball team, prospective Captain of the SabbathValley Foot Ball team, champion runner, and high jumper, championswimmer and boxer of the boy's league of Monopoly County, friend andoften tolerated companion of Mark Carter the great, trusted favorite ofhis beloved and saintly Sunday School teacher, was _in hell_! Hecould never more hold up his head and walk proud of himself. He was inhell at fourteen for life, and by his own act! And Gosh hang it! Helldidn't look so attractive in the near vision stretching out that waythrough life, and _then some_, as it had before he faced it. He'drather walk through fire somewhere and stand some chance of gettingdone with it sometime. "Aw Gee! Gosh! Whatta fool I bin!"

And then he set himself to see just what he had done, while the highwalls of sin seemed to rise closer about him, and his face burned withthe heat of the pit into which he had put himself. 

There was that guy Shafton--sissyman!--He had put him in the parsonagealong with his beloved teacher! If he only hadn't taken that tendollars or listened to that devil of a Pat, he wouldn't have put upthat detour and Shafton would have gone on his way. What difference ifhe had got kidnapped? His folks wouldda bailed him out with their oldjewels and things. Whaddid anybody want of jewels for anyway? Justnasty little bits of stone and glass! Mark had seen the guy there inchurch. Mark didn't like it. He knew by the set of Mark's mouth. Ofcourse Mark went with Cherry sometimes, but then that was different!Lynn was--well, Lynn was Miss Marilyn! That was all there was about it. 

And if he hadn't put up that detour Mark would have gone home thatnight before twelve and his mother would have known he was home, andlikely other people would have seen him, and been able to prove hewasn't out shooting anybody, and then they wouldn't have told all thoseawful things about him. Of course now Mark was safe, _of course, _but then it wasn't good to have things like that said about Mark. Itwas fierce to have a thing like that session meeting to remember! Hewanted to kill that old ferret of a Harricutt whenever he thought aboutit. Then he would be a murderer, and be hanged, and he wouldn't care ifhe did mebbe. _Aw Gee!_

A meadow lark suddenly pierced the sky with its wild sweet note high inthe air somewhere, and Billy wondered with a sick thud of his soul howlarks dared to sing in a world like this where one could upset a wholecircle of friends by a single little turn of finance that he hadn'tmeant anything wrong by at all? The bees droned around the honeysucklethat billowed over the little iron fence about a family burying lot, and once Lynn Severn's laugh--not her regular laugh, but a kind of acompany polite one--echoed lightly across to his ears and his facedropped into his hands. He almost groaned. Billy Gaston was at thelowest ebb he had ever been in his young life, and his conscience, athing he hadn't suspected he had, and wouldn't have owned if he had, had risen up within him to accuse him, and there seemed no way on earthto get rid of it. A conscience wasn't a _manly_ thing according tohis code, yet here he was, he Billy Gaston, with a conscience!

It was ghastly!

XIX

Laurie Shafton had caught Lynn as she came down the stairs with a bitof sewing in her hand to give Naomi a direction from her mother, andhad begged her to come out on the porch and talk to him. He pleadedthat he was lonesome, and that it was her duty as hostess to amuse himfor a while. 

Lynn had no relish for talking with the guest. Her heart was too soreto care to talk with any one. But her innate courtesy, and naturalgentleness finally yielded to his pleading, for Laurie had put on ahumility that was almost becoming, and made her seem really rude torefuse. 

She made him sit down in the hammock at the far end, however, andinsisted on herself taking the little rocker quite near the front door. She knew her father would soon be returning from some parish calls andwould relieve her, so she settled herself with the bit of linen she washemstitching and prepared to make the best of it. 

"It's a shame my car is out of commission yet, " began Laurie settlingback in the hammock and by some strange miracle refraining fromlighting a cigarette. It wouldn't have entered his head that Lynn wouldhave minded. He didn't know any girls objected to smoking. But thisgirl interested him strangely. He wasn't at all sure but it was a caseof love at first sight. He had always been looking for that to happento him. He hoped it had. It would be such a delightful experience. Hehad tried most of the other kinds. 

"Yes, it is too bad for you to be held up in your journey this way, "sympathized Lynn heartily, "but father says the blacksmith is going tofix you up by to-morrow he hopes. Those bearings will likely cometo-night. "

"Oh, but it has been a dandy experience. I'm certainly glad ithappened. Think what I should have missed all my life, not knowing_you_!"

He paused and looked soulfully at Lynn waiting for an appreciativeglance from her fully occupied eyes, but Lynn seemed to have missed thepoint entirely:

"I should think you might have well afforded to lose the experience ofbeing held up in a dull little town that couldn't possibly be of theslightest interest to you, " she said dryly, with the obvious idea ofmaking talk. 

"Oh, but I think it is charming, " he said lightly! "I hadn't an ideathere was such a place in the world as this. It's ideal, don't youknow, so secluded and absolutely restful. I'm having a dandy time, andyou people have been just wonderful to me. I think I shall come backoften if you'll let me. "

"I can't imagine your enjoying it, " said Lynn looking at him keenly, "It must be so utterly apart from your customary life. It must seemquite crude and almost uncivilized to you. "

"That's just it, it's so charmingly quaint. I'm bored to death withlife as I'm used to it. I'm always seeking for a new sensation, and Iseem to have lighted on it here all unexpectedly. I certainly hope mycar will be fixed by morning. If it isn't I'll telegraph for my man andhave him bring down some bearings in one of the other cars and fix meup. I'm determined to take you around a bit and have you show me thecountry. I know it would be great under your guidance. "

"Thank you, " said Lynn coolly, "But I haven't much time for pleasuringjust now, and you will be wanting to go on your way--"

He flushed with annoyance. He was not accustomed to being baffled inthis way by any girl, but he had sense enough to know that only bypatience and humility could he win any notice from her. 

"Oh, I shall want to linger a bit and let this doctor finish up thisankle of mine. It isn't fair to go away to another doctor before I'm onmy feet again. "

He thought she looked annoyed, but she did not answer. 

"Did you ever ride in a racer?" he asked suddenly, "I'll teach you todrive. Would you like that?"

"Thank you, " she said pleasantly, "but that wouldn't be necessary, Iknow how to drive. "

He almost thought there was a twinkle of mischief in her eye:

"You know how to drive! But you haven't a car? Oh, I suppose that youngCarter taught you to drive his, " he said with chagrin. He was growingangry. He began to suspect her of playing with him. After all, even ifshe was engaged to that chap, he had gone off with Opal quite willinglyit would appear. Why should he and she not have a little fling?

"No, " said Marilyn, "Mr. Carter did not have a car until he went awayfrom Sabbath Valley. I learned while I was in college. "

"Oh, you've been to college!" the young man sat up with interest, "Ithought there was something too sophisticated about you to have comeout of a place like this. You had a car while you were in college Isuppose. ". 

Lynn's eyes were dancing:

"Why didn't you say 'dump' like this? That's what your tone said, " shelaughed, "and only a minute ago you were saying how charming it was. No, I had no car in college, I was--" But he interrupted her eagerly:

"Now, you are misunderstanding me on purpose, " he declared in a hurttone. "I think this is an ideal spot off in the hills this way, thequaintest little Utopia in the world, but of course you know youhaven't the air of one who had never been out of the hills, and thesweet sheltered atmosphere of this village. Tell me, when and where didyou drive a car, and I'll see if I can't give you one better for a joyride. "

Lynn looked up placidly and smiled:

"In New York, " she said quietly, "at the beginning of the war, andafterward in France. "

Laurie Shafton sat up excitedly, the color flushing into his handsomeface:

"Were you in France?" he said admiringly, "Well, I might have known. Isaw there was something different about you. Y. M. , I suppose?"

"No, " said Lynn, "Salvation Army. My father has been a friend of theCommander's all his life. She knew, that we believed in all theirprinciples. There were only a very few outsiders, those whom they knewwell, allowed to go with them. I was one. "

"Well, " said Laurie, eyeing her almost embarrassedly, "You girls made agreat name for yourselves with your doughnuts and your pies. The onlything I had against you was that you didn't treat us officers alwaysthe way we ought to have been treated. But I suppose there wereindividual exceptions. I went into a hut one night and tried to getsome cigarettes and they wouldn't let me have any. "

"No, we didn't sell cigarettes, " said Lynn with satisfaction, "Thatwasn't what we were there for. We had a few for the wounded and dyingwho were used to them and needed them of course, but we didn't sellthem. "

"And then I tried to get some doughnuts and coffee, but would youbelieve it, they wouldn't let me have any till all the fellows in linehad been served. They said I had to take my turn! They were quiteinsulting about it! Of course they did good, but they ought to havebeen made to understand that they couldn't treat United States Officersthat way!"

"Why not? Were you any better than any of the soldiers?" she askedeyeing him calmly, and somehow he seemed to feel smaller than hisnormal estimate of himself. 

"An _officer?_" he said with a contemptuous haughty light in hiseye. 

"What is an officer but the servant of his men?" asked Lynn. "Would you_want_ to eat before them when they had stood hours in linewaiting? They who had all the hard work and none of the honors?"

Laurie's cheeks were flushed and his eyes angry:

"That's rot!" he said rudely, "Where did you get it? The officers werepicked from the cream of the land. They represent the great Nation. Aninsult to them is an insult to the Nation--!"

Lynn began to smile impudently--and her eyes were dancing again. 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafton, you must not forget I was there. Iknew both officers and men. I admit that some of the officers wereprincely, fit men to represent a great Christian Nation, but some ofthem again were well--the scum of the earth, rather than the cream. Mr. Shafton it does not make a man better than his fellows to be anofficer, and it does not make him fit to be an officer just because hisfather is able to buy him a commission. "

Laurie flushed angrily again:

"My father did not buy me a commission!" he said indignantly, "I wentto a training camp and won it. "

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafton, I meant nothing personal, but Icertainly had no use for an officer who came bustling in on those longlines of weary soul-sick boys just back from the front, and perhaps offagain that night, and tried to get ahead of them in line. However, let's talk of something else. Were you ever up around Dead Man's Curve?What division were you in?"

Laurie let his anger die out and answered her questions. For a fewminutes they held quite an animated conversation about France and thevarious phases of the war. Laurie had been in air service. One couldsee just how handsome he must have looked in his uniform. One wouldknow also that he would be brave and reckless. It was written all overhis face and in his very attitude. He showed her his "croix de guerre. "

"Mark was taken prisoner by the Germans, " she said sadly as she handedit back, her eyes dreamy and faraway, then suddenly seeming to realizethat she had spoken her thoughts aloud she flushed and hurried on toother experiences during the war, but she talked abstractedly, as onewhose thoughts had suddenly been diverted. The young man watched herbaffled:

"You seem so aloof, " he said all at once watching her as she sewed awayon the bit of linen, "You seem almost as if you--well--_despisedme_. Excuse me if I say that it's a rather new experience. People inmy world don't act that way to me, really they don't. And you don'teven know who I am nor anything about me. Do you think that's quitefair?"

Lynn looked at him with suddenly arrested attention:

"I'm sorry, " she said, "I didn't mean to be rude. But possibly you'vecome to the heart of the matter. I am not of your world. You knowthere's a great deal in not being able to get another's point of view. I hope I haven't done you an injustice. I haven't meant to. But you'rewrong in saying I don't know who you are or anything about you. You arethe son of William J. Shafton--the only son, isn't that so? Then youare the one I mean. There can't be any mistake. And I do know somethingabout you. In fact I've been very angry at you, and wished I might meetyou and tell you what I thought of you. "

"You don't say!" said Laurie getting up excitedly and moving over to achair next to hers regardless of his lame ankle, "This certainly isinteresting! What the deuce have I been doing to get myself in your badgraces? I better repent at once before I hear what it is?"

"You are the one who owns the block of warehouses down on ---- street andwon't sell at any price to give the little children in all that regiona place to get a bit of fresh air, the grass and a view of the sky. Youare the one who won't pull down your old buildings and try new andimproved ways of housing the poor around there so that they can grow updecently clean and healthy and have a little chance in this world. Justbecause you can't have as many apartments and get as much money fromyour investment you let the little children crowd together in roomsthat aren't fit for the pigs to live in, they are so dark and airless, and crowded already. Oh, I know you keep within the law! You just skinthrough without breaking it, but you won't help a little bit, you won'teven let your property help if someone else is willing to take thebother! Oh, I've been so boiling at you ever since I heard your namethat I couldn't hardly keep my tongue still, to think of that greatbeautiful car out there and how much it must have cost, and to hear youspeak of one of your other cars as if you had millions of them, and tothink of little Carmela living down in the basement room of Number 18in your block, growing whiter and whiter every day, with her great blueeyes and her soft fine wavy hair, and that hungry eager look in herface. And her mother, sewing, sewing, all day long at the little cellarwindow, and going blind because you won't put in a bigger one; sewingon coarse dark vests, putting in pockets and buttonholes for a livingfor her and Carmela, and you grinding her down and running around incars like that and taking it out of little Carmela, and littleCarmela's mother! Oh! How can I help feeling aloof from a person likethat?"

Laurie sat up astonished watching her:

"Why, my dear girl!" he exclaimed, "Do you know what you're talkingabout? Do you realize that it would take a mint of money to do all thefool things that these silly reformers are always putting up to you? Mylawyer looks after all those matters. Of course I know nothing aboutit--!"

"Well, you _ought_ to know, " said Lynn excitedly, "Does the moneybelong to your lawyer? Isn't it yours to be responsible for? Well, thenif you are stealing some of it out of little Carmela and a lot of otherlittle children and their mothers and fathers oughtn't you to know? Isyour lawyer going to take the responsibility about it in the kingdom ofheaven I should like to know? Can he stand up in the judgment day andexempt you by saying that he had to do the best he could for yourproperty because you required it of him? Excuse me for getting soexcited, but I love little Carmela. I went to see her a great deal lastwinter when I was in New York taking my senior year at the University. And I can't help telling you the truth about it. I don't suppose you'lldo anything about it, but at least you ought to know! And _I'm notyour dear girl, either!_"

Marilyn rose suddenly from her chair, and stood facing him with blazingeyes and cheeks that were aflame. It was a revelation to the worldlywise young man that a saint so sweet could blossom suddenly into abeautiful and furious woman. It seemed unreal to find this wonderful, unique, excitable young woman with ideas in such a quiet secluded spotof the earth. Decidedly she had ideas. 

"Excuse me, " he said, and rose also, an almost deprecatory air uponhim, "I assure you I meant nothing out of the way, Miss Severn. Icertainly respect and honor you--And really, I had no idea of all thisabout my property. I've never paid much heed to my property except tospend the income of course. It wasn't required of me. I must look intothis matter. If I find it as you think--that is if there is no mistake, I will see what I can do to remedy it. In any case we will look afterlittle Carmela. I'll settle some money on her mother, wouldn't that bethe best way? I can't think things are as bad as you say--"

"Will you really do something about it?" asked Lynn earnestly, "Willyou go up to New York and see for yourself? Will you go around in_every room_ of your buildings and get acquainted with thosepeople and find out just what the conditions are?"

"Why--I--!" he began uncertainly. 

"Oh, I thought you couldn't stand that test! That would be too muchbother--You would rather--!"

"No, Wait! I didn't say I wouldn't. Here! I'll go if you'll go with meand show me what you mean and what you want done. Come. I'll take youat your word. If you really want all those things come on and show mejust what to do. I'm game. I'll do it. I'll do it whether it needsdoing or not, _just for you_. Will you take me up?"

"Of course" said Lynn quickly, "I'll go with you and show you. I expectto be in New York next month helping at the Salvation Home while one oftheir workers is away on her vacation. I'll show you all over thedistrict as many times as you need to go, if it's not too hot for youto come back to the city so early. "

He looked at her sharply. There was a covert sneer in her last wordsthat angered him, and he was half inclined to refuse the whole thing, but somehow there was something in this strange new type of girl thatfascinated him. Now that she had the university, and the war, and theworld, for a background she puzzled and fascinated him more than ever. Half surprised at his own interest he bowed with a new kind of dignityover his habitual light manner:

"I shall be delighted, Miss Severn. It will not be too hot for me if itis not too hot for you. I shall be at your service, and I hope you willdiscover that there is one officer who knows how to obey. "

She looked at him half surprised, half troubled and then answeredsimply:

"Thank you. I'm afraid I've done you an injustice. I'm afraid I didn'tthink you would be game enough to do it. I hope I haven't been toorude. But you see I feel deeply about it and sometimes I forgetmyself?"

"I am sure I deserve all you have said, " said Laurie as gravely as hislight nature could manage, "but there is one thing that puzzles medeeply. I wish you would enlighten me. All this won't do _you_ anygood. It isn't for _you_ at all. _Why_ do you care?"

Marilyn brought her lovely eyes to dwell on his face for a momentthoughtfully, a shy beautiful tenderness softening every line of hereager young face:

"It's because--" she began diffidently, "It's because they all areGod's children--and I love _Him_ better than anything else inlife!"

The swift color made her face lovely as she spoke, and with the wordsshe turned away and went quickly into the house. The young man lookedafter her and dared not follow. He had never had a shock like that inhis life. Girls had talked about everything under heaven to him at onetime or another, but they had never mentioned God except profanely. 

Marilyn went swiftly up to her room and knelt down by her bed, buryingher hot cheeks in the cool pillow and trying to pray. She was glad, glad that she had spoken for her poor city children, glad that therewas a prospect or help perhaps; but beside and beyond it all her heartwas crying out for another matter that was namelessly tugging away atthe very foundations of her soul. Why, Oh _Why_ had Mark gone awaywith that queer girl? He must have seen what she was! He must haveknown that it was unnecessary! He must have known how it would hurt hisfriends, and that the man she came to see could have gone as well as heand better. Why did he go? She would not, she could not believeanything wrong of Mark. Yet _why did he go_?

XX

Billy had no appetite for the nice supper that Aunt Saxon had readywhen he came dejectedly home that night. He had passed the parsonageand seen through the dining-room window that the rich guy was sittingat the supper table opposite Marilyn laughing and talking with her andhis soul was sick within him. That was his doing! Nobody else buthimself to blame!

Aunt Saxon had apple dumplings with plenty of "goo, " black withcinnamon just the way he loved it, but he only minced at the firsthelping and scarcely tasted the second. He chopped a great manykindling after supper, and filled the woodbox, and thoughtfully woundthe clock. Then instead of going out with his usual "I gotta beat it!"he sat languidly on the doorstep in the dusk, and when she anxiouslyquestioned if he were sick he said crossly:

"Aw, Gee! Can't ya let a fella _alone_! I'm all in, can't ya_see_ it? I'm gonta _bed_!" and knowing he had said the mostalarming thing in the whole category he slammed upstairs to his ownroom and flung himself across his bed. 

Aunt Saxon filled with vague fears crept softly up after him, tappingat his locked door:

"Willie, what is the matter? Just tell auntie where the pain is andI'll get you some medicine that will fix you all up by morning. I'llget you a hot water bag--!"

"DON'T WANT NO HOT WATER BAGS!" roared the sore hearted Billy. "Can'tya lemme _alone_?"

Silence a moment while Aunt Saxon pondered tearfully and sighfully, then:

"Willie, is it the tooth ache?"

"NoooOH!" roared Billy. 

A pause, then:

"Billy, you've had a fall off that wheel and hurt yer head or cut yerknee, I know, I've always thought you'd do that, that old wheel! Yououghtta have a new one. But I'll bring the arnica and bathe it. Andwe'll paint it with iodine--where was it Willie? Yer knee?"

Billy's shoes came to the floor with a bang:

"Aw gee! Can't ya keep yer mouth shut an' let a fella have a littlesleep. It ain't _Nowhere_! It ain't _Nothin'_ an' I didn'thave no fall an' I don't want no new bicycle. D'ye hear? I don't wantnothin' 'cept just to be let alone. I wantta go ta sleep. Ain't I bentellin' ya fer the last half hour? It ain't _sinful_ fer a fellato wantta take a little sleep is it when he's been up half the nightbefore taking care of a fella on the mountain?--But if I ain't allowed, why then I'll get up an' go out somewheres. I know plenty of placeswhere they'll lemme sleep--"

"Oh _Wil-lee_!" sobbed Aunt Saxon. "That's all right dear! Justyou lie right down in your bed and take a good sleep. I didn'tunderstand. Auntie didn't understand. All right Willie. I'll keep itreal still. Now you lie down won't you? You will won't you? You'llreally lie down and sleep won't you Willie?"

"Didn't I say I would?" snapped Willie shamedly, and subsided on hisbed again while Aunt Saxon stole painfully, noiselessly over the creakin the stair, closed the house for the night and crept tearfully to herown bed, where she lay for hours silently wiping the steady trickle ofhopeless tears. Oh, Willie, Willie! And she had had such hopes!

But Billy lay staring wide eyed at the open square of his window thatshowed the little village nestling among the trees dotted here andthere with friendly winking lights, the great looming mountains in thedistance, and Stark mountain, farthest and blackest of them all. Heshut his eyes and tried to blot it out, but it seemed to loom throughhis very eyelids and mock him. He seemed to see Mark, his idol, carriedbetween those other three dark figures into the blackness of thathaunted house. He seemed to see him lying helpless, bound, on the mustybed in the deserted room, Mark, his beloved Mark. Mark who had carriedhim on his shoulder as a tiny child, who had ridden him on his back, and taught him to swim and pitch ball and box, Mark who let him gowhere even the big boys were not allowed to accompany him, and whonever told on him nor treated him mean nor went back on him in any way!Mark! _He_ had been the means of putting Mark in that helplessposition, while circumstances which he was now quite sure the devil hadbeen specially preparing, wove a tangled maze about the young man'sfeet from which there seemed no way of extrication. 

Billy shut his eyes and tried to sleep but sleep would not come. Hebegan to doubt if he would ever sleep again. He lay listening to theevening noises of the village. He heard Jim Rafferty's voice going byto the night shift, and Tom McMertrie. They were laughing softly andonce he thought he heard the name "Old Hair-Cut. " The Tully baby acrossthe street had colic and cried like murder. Murder! _Murder!_ Nowwhy did he have to think of that word of all words? Murder? Well, itwas crying like it wanted to murder somebody. He wished he was a babyhimself so he could cry. He'd cry harder'n that. Little's dog wasbarking again. He'd been barking all day long. It was probably at thatstrange guy at the parsonage. Little's dog never did like strangers. That creak was Barneses gate with the iron weight hitched on the chainto make it shut, and somebody laughed away up the street! There wentthe clock, nine o'clock! Gee! Was that all? He thought it must be aboutthree in the morning! And then he must have dozed off for a little, forwhen he woke with a start it was very still and dark, as if the moonhad gone away, had been and gone again, and he heard a cautious littlemouse gnawing at the baseboard in his room, gnawing and stopping andgnawing again, then whisking over the lath like fingers running a scaleon the piano. He had watched Miss Lynn do it once on the organ. 

He opened his eyes and looked hard at the window. The dim outline ofStark mountain off in the distance began to grow into form, and whatwas that? A speck of light? It must be his eyes. He rubbed themsleepily and looked again. Yes, a light. Alert at once with thealertness that comes to all boys at the sound of a fire bell or somesuch alarm, he slid from his bed noiselessly and stole to the window. It was gone! Aw, Gee! He had been asleep and dreamed it. No, there itwas again, or was it?

Blackness all before his eyes, with a luminous sky dimly about theirregular mountain top fringed with trees. This was foolish. He feltchilly and crept back to bed, but could not keep his eyes from the darkspot against the sky. He tried to close the lids and go to sleep, butthey insisted on flying open and watching. And then came what he hadbeen watching for. Three winks, and stop, three winks, stop, and onelong flash. Then all was dark. And though he watched till the churchclock struck three he saw no more. 

But the old torment came back. Mark and Cherry and Lynn. The guy at theparsonage and the girl with the floured face and base ball bats in herears! Aw Gee! He must have a fever! It was hours since the clock hadstruck three. It must be nearly four, and then it would soon be lightand he could get up. There seemed to be a light somewhere down thestreet through the trees. Not the street lamp either. Somebody sicklikely. Hark! What was that? He wished he hadn't undressed. He sat upin bed and listened. The purr of a car! Someone was stealing Mark'scar! Mark was away and everybody knew it. Nobody in Sabbath Valleywould steal, except, perhaps over at the plush mill. There were newpeople there--Was that Mark's car? _Some car_!

With a motion like a cat he sprang into the necessary garment whichnestled limply on the floor by the bed, and was at the window in atrice. A drop like a cat to the shed roof, down the rainwater spout tothe ground, a stealthy step to the back shed where old trusty leaned, and he was away down the road a speck in the dark, and just in time tosee the dim black vision of a car speeding with muffled engine down theroad toward the church. It was too dark to say it was Mark's car. Hehad no way but to follow. 

Panting and puffing, pedalling with all his might, straining his eyesto see through the dark the car that was flying along without lights, his hair sticking endwise, his sleepy hungry face peering wanly throughthe dark, he plodded after. Over the Highway! He slowed down and wasn'tquite sure till he heard the chug of the engine ahead, and a fewseconds later a red light bloomed out behind and he drew a new breathand pedalled on again, his heart throbbing wildly, the collar of hispajamas sticking up wildly like his hair, and one pajama leg showingwhitely below his trouser like a tattered banner. The pedals cut hisbare feet, and he shivered though he was drenched with perspiration, but he leaned far over his handle bars and pedalled on. 

Down past the Blue Duck Tavern, and on into the village of Economy thecar went, not rapidly now as though it were running away, but slower, and steadier like a car on legitimate business and gravely with anecessary object in view. Billy's heart began to quake. Not for nothinghad he learned to read by signs and actions at the feet of the masterMark. An inner well-developed sense began to tell him the truth. 

The car stopped in front of the Chief's house, and a horn soundedsoftly once. Billy dismounted hastily and vanished into the shadows. Alight appeared in the upper window of the house and all was still. Presently the light upstairs went out, the front door opened showing adimmer light farther in, and showing the outline of the Chief inflannel shirt and trousers. He came down the walk and spoke with theman in the car, and the car started again and turned in at the Chief'sdrive way, going back to the garage. 

Billy left his wheel against a hedge and hiked noiselessly after, slinking behind the garage door till the driver came out. _It wasMark!_

He went down the drive, met the Chief at the gate and they wentsilently down the dark street, their rubber heels making no noise onthe pavement. Economy was asleep and no wiser, but Billy's heart wasbreaking. He watched the two and followed afar till they turned downthe side street which he feared. He stole after and saw them enter thebrick building that harbored the County Jail. He waited with shakinglimbs and bleeding heart, waited, hoping, fearing, dreading, but notfor long. The Chief came out alone! It was as he had feared. 

Then as if the very devil himself pursued him, Billy turned and fled, retrieving his bicycle and whirled away noiselessly down the road, caring not where he was going, ready to hang himself, wild with despairand self-condemnation. 

The dark lay over the valley like a velvet mantel black and soft withwhite wreaths of mist like a lady's veil flung aside and blown to thebreeze, but Billy saw naught but red winking lights and a jail, grimand red in the midnight, and his friend's white face passing in beneaththe arched door. The bang of that door as it shut was echoing in hissoul. 

He passed the Fenner cottage. There were lights and moving about, buthe paid no heed. He passed the Blue Duck Tavern, and saw the light inthe kitchen where the cook was beginning the day's work just as therest of the house had been given over to sleep. There was the smell ofbacon on the air. Some one was going away on the milk train likely. Hethought it out dully as he passed with the sick reeling motion of arider whose life has suddenly grown worthless to him. Over bottles andnails, and bumping over humps old trusty carried him, down the hill toSabbath Valley, past the grave yard where the old stones peered eerilyup from the dark mounds like wakened curious sleepers, past the churchin the gray of the morning with a pinkness in the sky behind. Lynnlying in a sleepless bed listening to every sound for Mark's car toreturn, and recognizing Billy's back wheel squeak. On down the familiarstreet, glad of the thick maples to hide him, hunching up the pajamaleg that would wave below in the rapidly increasing light, not lookingtoward the Carters', plodding on, old trusty on the back porch;shinning up the water spout, tiptoeing over the shed roof, a quickspring in his own window and he was safe on his bed again staring atthe red morning light shining weirdly, cheerily on his wall and therooster crowing lustily below his window. Drat that rooster! What didit want to make that noise for? Wasn't there a rooster in that Biblestory? Oh, no, that was Peter perhaps. He turned hastily from thesubject and gave his attention to his toilet. Aunt Saxon was squeakingpast his door, stopping to listen:

"Willie?"

"Well. " In a low growl, not encouragingly. 

"Oh, Willie, you up? You better?"

"Nothin' the matter with me. "

"Oh--"

"Breakfast ready?"

"Oh, yes, Willie! I'm so glad you're feeling better. " She squeaked ondown the stairs sniffing as if from recent tears! Doggone those tears!Those everlasting tears! Why didn't a woman know--! Now, what did hehave to do next? Do! Yes, he must do something. He couldn't just sithere, could he? What about Stark's mountain and the winking light? Whatabout that sissy-guy making up to Miss Lynn? If only Mark were here nowhe would tell him everything. Yes, he would. Mark would understand. ButMark was in that unspeakable place! Would Mark find a way to get out?He felt convinced he could, but would he? From the set of his shouldersBilly had a strong conviction that Mark would not. Mark seemed to begoing there for a purpose. Would the purpose be complete during the daysometime and would Mark return? Billy must do something before night. He wished it might be to smash the face of that guy Shafton. Assuredlyhe must do something. But first he must eat his breakfast. He didn'twant to, but he had to. Aunt Saxon would raise a riot if he didn't. Well, there was ham. He could smell it. Ham for breakfast. Aw gee! Saxywas getting extravagant. Somehow pretty soon if he didn't hang himselfhe must find a way to brighten up Saxy and pay her back for all thosepink tears. 

And over on Stark's mountain as the morning dawned a heavy foot climbedthe haunted stairs and a blood shot eye framed itself at the littlehalf moon in the front window that looked out over Lone Valley towardEconomy, and down over Sabbath Valley toward Monopoly commanding astrategic position in the whole wild lovely region. 

Down in the cellar where the rats had hitherto held sway a soft chip, chip, chipping sound went steadily forward hour by hour, with spacesbetween and chip, chip, shipping again, a new kind of rat burrowinginto the earth, over close to the edge of the long deserted scanty coalpile. While up under the dusty beams in a dark corner various oldparcels were stowed away awaiting a later burial. From the peep holewhere the eye commanded the situation a small black speck went whirlingalong the road to Monopoly which might be a boy on a bicycle, but noone came toward Stark's mountain on that bright sunny morning todisturb the quiet worker in the dark cellar. 

Billy was on his way to Monopoly, his aunt appeased for the time being, with the distinct purpose of buying the morning paper. Not that he wasgiven to literature, or perused the dairy news as a habit, but an ideahad struck him. There might be a way of finding out about Mark withoutletting any one know how he was finding out. It might be in the paper. Down at Monopoly no one would notice if he bought a County paper, andhe could stop in the woods and read it. 

But when he reached the news stand he saw a pile of New York paperslying right in front, and the great black headlines caught his eye:

"FATE OF LAURENCE SHAFTON STILL UNKNOWN. "

"Son of multimillionaire of New York City who was kidnapped on Saturdaynight on his way from New York to a week-end house party at Beechwood, N. J. , not yet heard from. No clew to his whereabouts. Detectives outwith bloodhounds searching country. Mother in a state of collapse. Itis feared the bandits have fulfilled their threats and killed him. Father frantically offering any reward for news of son!"

Billy read no further. He clapped down a nickel and stuffed the paperindifferently into his pocket, almost forgetting in his disgust topurchase the county news. "Aw Gee!" he said to himself. "More o' thatJudas stuff. I gotta get rid o' them thirty pieces!"

He stepped back and bought a County paper, stood idly looking over itspages a moment with the letters swimming before his eyes, at lastdiscovering the column where the Economy "murder" was discussed, andwithout reading it stuffed it in the pocket on the other side and rodeaway into the sunlight. Murder! It was called murder! Then Dolph mustbe dead! The plot thickened! Dead! Murder! Who killed him? Surely hewasn't responsible for that at least! He was out on the road with Markwhen it happened. He hadn't done anything which in the remotest way hadto do with the killing, he thanked his lucky stars for that. And Mark. But who did it? Cherry? She might be a reason for what Mark did lastnight. 

At a turn in the road where a little grove began he got off his wheeland seeking a sheltered spot dropped down under a tree to read hispapers. His quick eye searched through the County paper first for thesensational account of the murder, and a gray look settled over his pugcountenance as he read. So might a mother have regarded her child indeep trouble, or a lover his beloved. Billy's spirit was bowed to thedepths. When he had devoured every word he flung the paper asidewrathfully, and sat up with a kind of hopeless gesture of his hardyoung hands. "Aw Gee!" he said aloud, and suddenly he felt a great wetblob rolling down his freckled cheek. He smashed it across into hishair with a quick slash of his dirty hand as if it had been a mosquitoannoying him, and lest the other eye might be meditating a like trickhe gave that a vicious dab and hauled out the other paper, more as amatter of form than because he had a deep interest in it. All throughthe description of those wonderful Shafton jewels, and the mystery thatsurrounded the disappearance of the popular young man, Billy could seethe word "murder" dancing like little black devils in and out among theletters. The paragraph about Mrs. Shafton's collapse held him briefly:

"Aw, gee!" he could see pink tears everywhere. He supposed he ought todo something about that. For all the world like Aunt Saxon! He seemedto sense her youth through the printed words as he had once sensed Mrs. Carter's. He saw her back in school, pretty and little. Rich women werealways pretty and little to his mind, pretty and little and helplessand always crying. It was then that the thought was born that made himlook off to the hills and ponder with drawn brows and anxious mien. Hetook it back to his home with him and sat moodily staring at the lilacbushes, and gave Aunt Saxon another bad day wondering what had come toWillie. She would actually have been glad to hear him say: "I gottabeat it! I gotta date with tha fellas!"

That evening the rumor crept back to Sabbath Valley from who knowswhere that Dolph was dead and Mark Carter had run away!

XXI

Tuesday morning Lynn slipped down to Carters with a little cake she hadmade all white frosting and sprinkles of nuts. Her face was white butbrave with a smile, and she said her mother wanted to know how Mrs. Carter's neuralgia was getting on. 

But Mrs. Carter was the only one in the village perhaps who had notheard the rumor, and she was gracious and pleased and said she wishedMark was home, he loved nut cake so much. 

"You know he was called back to New York suddenly last night didn'tyou?" she said. "He felt real sorry to leave so soon, but his partnerwired him there was something he must see to himself, and he just tookhis car and went right away as soon as he got back from taking thatgirl home. He hoped he'd get back again soon though. Say, who was thatgirl? Wasn't she kind of queer to ask Mark to take her home? Seemssomehow girls are getting a little forward these days. I know you'dnever do a thing like that with a perfect stranger, Marilyn. "

The girl only stayed a few minutes, and went home with a braver heart. At least Mark was protecting his mother. He had not changed entirely. He wouldn't let her suffer! But what was he doing? Oughtn't he to betold what rumors were going around about him? But how could it be done?Her father? Perhaps. She shrank from that, Mark had so withdrawn fromthem, he might take it as an interference. Billy? Ah, yes, Billy!

But Billy did not appear anywhere, and when she got back she found thatShafton's car had been finished and was ready to drive, and he wantedher to take a little spin with him to try it, he said. He warilyinvited her mother to go along, for he saw by her face that she wasgoing to decline, and the mother watching her daughter's white facesaid: "Yes, Marilyn we will go. It will do you good. You have beenhoused up here ever since you came home. " And there was nothing for thegirl to do but succumb or seem exceedingly rude. She was not by naturerude, so she went. 

As they drove by the Saxon cottage Billy was just coming out, and hestared glumly at the three and hardly acknowledged Marilyn's greeting. He stared after them scowling. 

"Hell!" said Billy aloud, regardless of Aunt Saxon at the front window, "Yes _Hell_!" and he realized the meaning of his epithet farbetter than the young man he was staring after had the first night hehad used it in Sabbath Valley. 

"What was that you said Willie?" called Aunt Saxon's anxious voice. 

"Aw, nothing!" said Billy, and slammed out the gate, his wheel by hisside. _Now_! Something had to be done. He couldn't have_that_ going on. He was hurt at Mrs. Severn. She ought to takebetter care of her daughter! In sullen despair he mounted and rode awayto work out his problem. It was certain he couldn't do anything withSaxy snivelling round. And _something had to be done!_

Billy managed to get around the country quite a little that morning. Herode up to Economy and learned that Mr. Fenner, the tailor, was sick, had been taken two nights ago, was delirious and had to have two men tohold him down. He thought everybody was an enemy and tried to chokethem all. He rode past the jail but saw nothing though he circled theblock three times. The Chief stood out in front talking with threestrange men. Billy sized them up for detectives. When there was nothingfurther to be gained in Economy he turned his steed toward PleasantValley and took in a little underground telephone communication betweena very badly scared Pat and a very angry Sam at some unknown point atthe end of the wire. It was then, lying hidden in the thickundergrowth, that a possible solution of his difficulties occurred tohim, a form of noble self sacrifice that might in part do penance forhis guilt. Folded safely in his inner pocket was the thirty pieces ofsilver, the blood money, the price of Mark Carter's freedom and goodname. If he had not taken that he might have fixd this Pat so he wouldbe a witness to Mark's alibi. But according to the code he had beentaught it would not be honorable to squeal on somebody whose money hehad taken. It wasn't square. It wasn't honorable. It was yella, andyella, he would not be if the sky fell. It was all the religion he hadas yet, not to be "yella. " It stood for all the fineness of his soul. But he had reasoned within himself that if in some way he could getthat money back to Pat, then he would be free from obligation. Then hecould somehow manage to put Pat where he would have to tell the rightthing to save Mark. Just how it could be done he wasn't sure, but thatwas another question. 

When Pat had trundled away to the train he rolled himself out fromambush and went on his way across Lone Valley by a little tree-shadedpath he knew that cut straight over to Stark mountain. 

Not a ripple of a leaf showed above him as he passed straight up themountain to the old house, for the watchful eye looking out to see. Billy was a great deal like an Indian in his goings and comings, andBilly was wary. Had he not seen the winking light? Billy was taking nochances. Smoothly folded in his hip pocket he carried a leaf of the NewYork paper wherein was offered a large reward for informationconcerning jewels and bonds and other property taken from the Shaftoncountry home on pretense of setting free the son. Also there was astupendous reward offered for information concerning the son, andBilly's big thought as he crept along under the trees with all thestealth of a wild thing, was that here was another thirty pieces ofsilver multiplied many times, and _he wasn't going to take it!_ He_could, but he wouldn't!_ He was going to give these folks theinformation they wanted, but he wasn't going to get the benefit of it. That was going to be his punishment. He had been in hell long enough, and he was going to try to pull himself out of it by his good works. And he would do it in such a way that there wouldn't be any chance ofthe reward being pressed upon him. He would just fix it so that nobodywould particularly know he had anything to do with the clews. That wasBilly all over. He never did a thing half way. But first he must findout if there was anybody about the old house. He couldn't get away fromthose three winks he had seen. 

So, feeling almost relieved for a moment Billy left his wheel on guardand crept around to his usual approach at the back before he came outin the open. And then he crept cautiously to the cellar window where hehad first entered the house. He gripped Pat's old gun with one hand inhis pocket, and slid along like a young snake, taking precaution not toappear before the cellar window lest his shadow should fall inside. Heflattened himself at last upon the grass a noticeless heap of graykhaki trousers and brown flannel shirt close against the house. Onewould have to lean far out of a window to see him, and there he lay andlistened awhile. And presently from the depths beyond that gratedwindow he heard a little scratch, scratch, scratch, tap, tap, tap, scratch, tap, scratch, tap, steadily, on for sometime like his heartbeats, till he wasn't sure he was hearing it at all, and thought itmight be the blood pounding through his ears, so strange and uncanny itseemed. Then, all at once there came a puff, as if a long breath hadbeen drawn, like one lifting a heavy weight, and then a dull thud. Abrief silence and more scratching in soft earth now. 

He listened for perhaps an hour, and once a footstep grated on thecement floor, and coals rattled down as if they were disturbed. Oncetoo a soft chirrup from up above like the call of a wood bird, onlystrangely human and the sounds in the cellar ceased altogether, tillanother weird note sounded and they began again. 

When he was satisfied with his investigations he began slowly to backaway from his position, lifting each atom of muscle slowly one at atime till his going must have been something like the motion picture ofa bud unfolding, and yet as silent as the flower grows he faded awayfrom that cellar window back into the green and no one was the wiser. An hour later the watchful eye at the little half moon opening in theshutter might have seen a little black speck like a spider whizzingalong on the Highroad and turning down toward Sabbath Valley, but itnever would have looked as if it came from Stark mountain, for it washeaded straight from Lone Valley. Billy was going home to get cleanedup and make a visit to the parsonage. If that guy was still there he'dsee how quick he would leave! If there wasn't one way to make him gothere was another, and Billy felt that he held the trick. 

But as fate would have it Billy did not have to get cleaned up, forMiss Severn stood on the front porch looking off toward the mountainswith that wistful expression of hers that made him want to laugh andcry and run errands for her anywhere just to serve her and make hersmile, and she waved her hand at Billy, and ran down to the gate tospeak to him. 

"Billy, I want to ask you, --If you were to see Mark Carter--of courseyou mightn't, but then you might--you'll let him know that we are ofcourse his friends, and that anything he wants done, if he'll just letus know--"

"Sure!" said Billy lighting off his wheel with a downward glance at hisdirty self, all leaves and dust and grime, "Sure, he'd know thatanyhow. "

"Well, Billy, I know he would, but I mean, I thought perhaps you mightfind something we _could do_, --something maybe without letting himknow. He's very proud about asking any help you, know, and he wouldn'twant to bother us. You may discover something he--needs--or wantsdone--while--he is away--and maybe we could help him out, Father orMother or I. You'll remember, won't you Billy?"

"Sure!" said Billy again feeling the warm glow of her friendliness andloyalty to Mark, and digging his toes into the turf embarrassedly. Thenhe looked up casually as he was about to leave:

"Say is there a guy here named Shafton? Man from n'Yark?"

"Why, yes, " said Lynn looking at him curiously, "Did you want to seehim?"

"Well, if he's round I might. I got a message for him. "

She looked at him keenly:

"You haven't _seen_ Mark to-day, have you, Billy?"

"Aw, naw, 'taint from him, " he grinned reassuringly, "He's away justnow. But I might see him soon ya know, ur hear from him. "

Lynn's face cleared. "Yes, of course. His mother told me he wassuddenly called back to New York. "

"Yep. That's right!" said Billy as if he knew all about it, and pulledoff his old cap with a glorious wave as she turned to call thestranger. 

Billy dropped his wheel at the curb and approached the steps as he sawShafton coming slowly out leaning on a cane. He rustled the foldednewspaper out from his pocket with one hand and shook it open as only aboy's sleight of hand can do, wafting it in front of the astonishedLaurie, and saying with an impudent swag, "Say, z'your name Shafton? Well, _see that?_ Why don't you beat ithome? Your ma is about t'croke, an' yer dad has put up about all hisdough, an' you better rustle back to where you come from an' tell 'emnot to b'leeve all the bunk that's handed out to 'em! Good night! Theymust need a nurse!"

Laurie paused in the act of lighting one of his interminable cigaretteswith which he supplied the lack of a stronger stimulant, and stared atthe boy curiously, then stared at the paper he held in his hand withthe flaring headlines, and reaching out his hand for it began to laugh:

"Well, upon my word, Kid, where'd you get this? If that isn't a joke! Iwonder if Opal's seen it. Miss Severn, come here! See what a joke! I'mkidnapped! Did you ever hear the like? Look at the flowery sentences. It's almost like reading one's own obituary, isn't it?"

Marilyn, glancing over his shoulder at the headlines, took in theimport of it instantly. "I should think you'd want to telephone yourmother at once. How she must have suffered!" she said. 

Laurie somewhat sobered agreed that it would be a good idea:

"The mater's a good old scout, " he said lightly, "She's always helpingme out of scrapes, but this is one too many to give up her emeralds, the Shafton Emeralds! Gosh but dad will be mad about them! And Oh, say, call that boy back will you? I want to give him a dollar!"

But Billy had faded down the road with mortal indignation in hisbreast. To think of giving up a ten thousand dollar reward and having adollar flung at you! It seemed to measure the very depth of the shameto which he had descended. 

The Severns came a few paces out of their indifference to thisself-imposed guest and gathered around the sheet of newspaperwhile Laurie held an intensive conversation with his family beginningwith several servants who were too excited at first to identify hisvoice. 

But at last he hung up the receiver and turned toward them:

"Well, I guess there's nothing for it but for me to pull out. The materdoesn't think she'll be satisfied till she has her hands on me. BesidesI've got to get things started about those jewels. Dad and mother aretoo excited to know what they're about. I declare, it's like being deadand seeing how they feel about it. "

There was a boyish eager look about the young man's face that made himfor the first time seem rather loveable, Mrs. Severn thought. Themother in her rose to appreciation. Lynn was so glad that he was goingaway that she was almost friendly during lunch. And when the young manwas about to depart he went to Mr. Severn's study and wrote a check forfive hundred dollars:

"Just in appreciation of your kindness, " he said as he held it out tothe minister. 

The minister looked amused but did not offer to take it:

"That's all right, " he said pleasantly, "We don't keep boarders youknow. You were welcome to what we could give you. "

"But, my dear sir, I couldn't think of not remunerating you, " declaredLaurie. 

"And I couldn't think of taking it, " smiled the minister. 

"Well, then take it for your poor people, " he insisted. 

"From what Lynn tells me you have more of those than we have, " answeredthe minister. 

The young man looked annoyed:

"Well, then take it for something for your church, another bell orsomething, anything you're interested in. "

"I can give you an address of a young missionary out West who is havinga hard time of it, and has a very needy parish, " said the ministertaking out his fountain pen and writing the address on a card, "but Ishould prefer that you would send it to him yourself. He wouldn't takeit from me, but if you'd send it he'll write and tell you what he doeswith it, and he'll tell me too, so it will give pleasure all around. He's a game young chap, and he's given his life. You couldn't help butlike him. "

Laurie had to be content with this, though he felt annoyed at having towrite a letter to a missionary. He felt he shouldn't know how toaddress him. 

"I'll send it to-night when I get home, " he declared, "or no, I'll sendit now, " and he sat down at the minister's desk, and scribbled a note. It read: "Your friend Severn won't take anything himself for kindnessto me, so he's letting me send you this for your work. Here's wishingyou good luck. " This he signed and handed to the minister with arelieved air as if to say: "There! That's that!"

"You see, " said Laurie getting up and taking his hat again, "I want tocome back here again and see your daughter. I may as well tell you I'mcrazy about your daughter. "

"I see, " said the minister gravely, albeit with a twinkle in his eye, "The fact is I'm somewhat crazy about her myself. But in all kindness Imay as well tell you that you'll be wasting your time. She isn't yourkind you know. "

"Oh, well, " said Laurie with an assured shrug, "That's all right if Idon't mind, isn't it?"

"Well, no, " said the minister smiling broadly now, "You forget that shemight mind, you know. "

"I don't get you, " said Laurie looking puzzled as he fitted on hisimmaculate driving glove, "She might mind, what do you mean?"

"I mean that my daughter minds very much indeed whether her men friendsask in a certain tone of voice for something to _drink_ atmidnight, and use language such as you used when you first arrivedhere, smoke continual cigarettes, and have friends like the young womanwho visited you last Sunday. "

"Oh! I see!" laughed Laurie thoroughly amused, "Well, after all, onedoesn't have to keep on doing all those things you know--if it wereworth one's while to change them. "

"I'm afraid, " said the minister still amused, "that it would have to beworth your while to change before she would even consider you as apossibility. She happens to have a few ideas about what it takes tomake a man, her ideal man, you know. "

Laurie smiled gaily:

"Perhaps I can change those ideas. "

"Help yourself young man. You'll find it a task, I assure you. "

"Well, I'm coming back, anyway. "

"We shall welcome you, " said the minister politely, but not at allgladly, and Laurie departed without his usual complacency, assuring theminister that he had found Sabbath Valley the garden spot of the worldand meant to return soon and often. 

Billy watched him from the graveyard enclosure whither he had retiredto write a letter, and he made a face and wasted a gesture of defianceafter his departing car. So much Billy felt he had accomplished towardreparation. He was now attempting a third act. 

On the smooth end of the old stone he had a newspaper spread, and uponthat a sheet of letter paper which he had extracted from Aunt Saxon'sancient box in the old secretary in the corner of the kitchen. Kneelingbeside the stone he carefully inscribed the following words:

 "Yoors to cummand, B. Gaston. "

He folded the paper with his smudgy fingers, and stuffed it into asoiled envelope on which he wrote Mark's name, and as he had seen Lynnwrite down in the corner of a note that he had taken to Monopoly forher, "Kindness of Billy, " so he wrote "Kindnus of Cheef. " Then hemounted his wheel and rode to Economy. After some apparently aimlessriding he brought up at the back of the Chief's garage where he applieda canny eye to a crack and ascertained just how many and what cars wereinside. He then rode straight to the bank where he was pretty sure theChief would be standing near the steps at this hour. Waiting a time ofleisure he handed him the envelope:

"Say, Chief, c'n I trouble you to d'liver that?"

The Chief looked at the envelope and then at Billy and opened his lipsto speak, but Billy forestalled him:

"I know you don't know where he is at all now, Chief, o' course, but Ijust thought you might happen to meet up with him sometime soon. That'sall right, Chief. Thank ya. " Billy ended with a knowing wink. 

The Chief turned the envelope over, noted that it was unsealed, grinnedback and put it in his pocket. They had been good friends, these two, for several years, ever since Billy had been caught bearing the penaltyfor another boy's misdemeanor. 

"That's all right Billy, " said the Chief affably, "I won't forget it--if I see him! Seen anything more of those automobile thieves?"

"Nope, " said Billy sadly, "but I gotta line on 'em. 'f'I find anythin'more I'll callyaup!"

"Do!" said the Chief cordially, and the interview was closed. 

Billy bought some cakes at the bakery with ten cents he had earnedrunning an errand from the grocery that morning, and departed onimportant business. He had definitely decided to give up his thirtypieces of silver. No more blood money for him. His world was upsidedown and all he loved were suffering, and all because he had beenmercenary. The only way to put things right was to get rid of any gainthat might accrue to himself. Then he would be in a position to dosomething. And Pat was his first object now. He meant to give back themoney to Pat! He had thought it all out, and he meant to waste no timein getting things straight. 

He went to the Economy post office and on the back of a circular thathe found in the waste basket he wrote another note:

"Pat. This is blood money an' I can't kep it. I didunt no when Iundertuk the job wot kind of a job it was. Thers only one way fur yooto kep yur hid saf, an that is to tel the trooth abot wot hapuned. Ifyoo ar wiling to tel the trooth put a leter heer sayin so. If yoo don'tI am havin' you watshed an you will los yoor job an likely be hanged. We are arumd so be keerful. This aint yella. This is rite. 

THE KID. "

It was a long job and he was tired when it was finished, for his daysat school had been full of so many other things besides lessons thatliterary efforts were always strenuous for him. When he had finished hewent out and carried three parcels for the meat market, receiving inreturn thirty cents, which exactly made up the sum he had spent fromhis tainted money. With this wrapped bunglingly in his note heproceeded to ambush near Pleasant Valley. He had other fish to fry, butnot till dark. Meantime, if that underground telephone was being usedat other times in the day he wanted to know it. 

He placed the note and money obviously before the little hiddentelephone from which he had cleared the leaves and rubbish that hid it, and then retired to cover where he settled himself comfortably. He knewPat would be busy till the two evening trains had arrived, after thatif he did not come there would likely be no calls before morning again, and he could go on his way. With a pleasant snack of sugar cookies andcream puffs he lay back and closed his eyes, glad of this brief respitefrom his life of care and perplexity. Of course he couldn't get awayfrom his thoughts, but what a pleasant place this was, with the scentof sassafras and winter green all around him, and the meadow lark highin the air somewhere. There were bees in the wild honeysuckle not faraway. He could hear their lazy drone. It would be nice to be a bee andfly, fly away from everything. Did bees care about things? Did theyhave troubles, and love folks and lose 'em? When a bee died did theother bees care? Aw Gee! Mark in--j--_No_! He wouldn't say it!Mark was in New York! Yes, of course he was. It would all come rightsome day. He would catch those crooks and put 'em in jail--no, firsthe'd use 'em to clear Mark. When he got done here he was going up towatch the old house and find out about that noise, and he'd see whetherLink and Shorty would put anything more over! Link and Shorty and Pat, and that sissy Shafton and Sam, whoever Sam was! They were all hisenemies! If Mark were only here how they would go to that old hauntedhouse together and work this thing out. He ought to have told Markeverything. Fool! Just to save his own hide! Just to keep Mark fromblaming him! Well, he was done saving himself or getting ill gottengains. Him for honesty for the rest of his life. 

The bees droned on and the lark grew fainter and fainter. Billy's eyesdrooped closer shut, his long curling lashes lay on his freckled cheeksthe way they lay sometimes when Aunt Saxon came to watch him. Thatadorable sweep of lash that all mothers of boys know, that air ofdignity and innocence that makes you forget the day and its doings andundoings and think only, this is a man child, a wonderful creature ofGod, beloved and strong, a gift of heaven, a wonder in daytime, acreature to be afraid of sometimes, but weak in sleep, _adorable!_

Billy slept. 

The afternoon train lumbered in with two freight cars behind, and a lotof crates and boxes to manipulate, but Billy slept. The five o'clocktrain slid in and the evening express with its toll of guests for theLake Hotel who hustled off wearily, cheerily, and on to the little Laketrain that stood with an expectant insolent air like a necessary evilwaiting for a tip. The two trains champed and puffed and finallyscampered away, leaving echoes all along the valley, and a red streamof sun down the track behind them from a sky aflame in the westpreparing for a brilliant sunset. The red fingers of the sun touchedthe freckles on Billy's cheek lightly as if to warn him that the timehad come. The shutters slammed on at the little station. The agentclimbed the hill to his shack among the pines. Pat came out the doorand stood on the platform looking down the valley, waiting for theagent to get out of sight. 

And Billy slept on!

XXII

Three days later a pall hung over Sabbath Valley. The coroner's inquesthad brought in a verdict of murder, and the day of the hearing had beenset. Mark Carter was to be tried for murder--was _wanted_ formurder as Elder Harricutt put it. It was out now and everybody knew itbut Mrs. Carter, who went serenely on her way getting her regularletters from Mark postmarked New York and telling of little happeningsthat were vague but pleasant and sounded so like Mark, so comfortingand son like. So strangely tender and comforting and more in detailthan Mark's letters had been wont to be. She thought to herself that hewas growing up at last. He spoke of a time when he and she would have anice home together somewhere, some new place where he would get intobusiness and make a lot of money. Would she like that? And once he toldher he was afraid he hadn't been a very good son to her, but sometimehe would try to make it up to her, and she cried over that letter forsheer joy. But all the rest of the town knew that Mark was suspected ofmurder, and most of them thought he had run away and nobody could findhim. The county papers hinted that there were to be strange revelationswhen the time of the trial came, but nothing definite seemed to comeout from day to day more than had been said at first, and there was astrange lack of any mention of Mark in connection with it after thefirst day. 

Lynn Severn went about the house quiet and white, her face looking likean angel's prayer, one continual petition, but she was sweet andpatient, and ready to do anything for anybody. Work seemed to be heronly respite from the gnawing horror of her thoughts. To know that thewhole village believed that Mark, her life long playmate, had beenguilty of a crime so heinous was so appalling that sometimes she juststood at the window and laughed out into the sunshine at the crazy ideaof it. It simply could not be. Mark, who had always been so gentle andtender for every living thing, so chivalrous, so ready to help! Tothink of Mark killing anyone! And yet, they might have needed killing. At least, of course she didn't mean that, but there were circumstancesunder which she could imagine almost anyone doing a deed--well what wasthe use, there was no way to excuse or explain a thing she didn'tunderstand, and she could just do nothing but not believe any of ituntil she knew. She would trust in God, and yes, she would trust inMark as she always had done, at least until she had his own word thathe was not trustable. That haughty withdrawing of himself on Sundaynight and his "I am not worthy" meant nothing to her now when it cametrailing across her consciousness. It only seemed one more proof of histender conscience, his care for her reputation. He had known then whatthey were saying about him, he must have known the day before thatthere was something that put him in a position so that he felt it wasnot good for her reputation to be his friend. He had withdrawn toprotect her. That was the way she explained it to her heart, while yetbeneath it all was the deep down hurt that he had not trusted her, andlet her be his friend in trouble as well as when all was well. 

She had written him a little note, not too intimate, just as a sistermight have written, expressing her deep trust, and her sincere desireto stand by and help in any time of need. In it she begged him to thinkher worthy of sharing his trouble as he used to share his happiness, and to know always that she was his friend whatever came. She had readit over and over to be sure she was not overstepping her womanly rightto say these things, and had prayed about it a great deal. But when itcame to sending it she did not know his New York address. He had beenstrangely silent during the last few months and had not written her. She did not want to ask his mother. So she planned to find it outthrough Billy. But Billy did not come. It had been two days since Billyhad been around, or was it three? She was standing at the windowlooking down the road toward the Saxon cottage and wondering if shewanted to go down and hunt for Billy when she saw Miss Saxon coming upthe street and turning in at the gate, and her face looked wan andcrumpled like an old rose that had been crushed and left on the parlorfloor all night. 

She turned from the window and hurried down:

"Miss Marilyn, " Aunt Saxon greeted her with a gush of tears, "I don'tknow what to do. Billy's away! He hasn't been home for three days andthree nights! His bed ain't been touched. He never did that beforeexcept that last time when he stayed out to help Mark Carter that timeon the mountain with that sick man, and I can't think what's thematter. I went to Miz Carter's, but she ain't seen him, and she saysMark's up to his business in New York, so Billy can't be with him, andI just know he's kilt, Miss Marilyn. I just know he's kilt. I dreamt ofa shroud night before last and I can't help thinkin' he's _kilt!_"and the tears poured down the tired little face pitifully. 

Marilyn drew her tenderly into the house and made her sit down by thecool window, brought a palm leaf fan and a footstool, and told Naomi tomake some iced orangeade. Then she called her mother and went and satdown by the poor little creature who now that somebody else was goingto do something about it had subsided into her chair with relief bornof exhaustion. She had not slept for three nights and two of those daysshe had washed all day. 

"Now, Miss Saxon, dear, you're not to worry, " said the girl taking thefan and waving it gently back and forth, touching the work-worn handtenderly with her other hand, "Billy is not dead, I'm sure! Oh, I'mquite sure! I think somehow it would be hard to kill Billy. He has waysof keeping alive that most of us don't enjoy. He is strong and youngand sharp as a needle. No one can put anything over on Billy, and Ihave somehow a feeling, Miss Saxon that Billy is off somewhere doingsomething very important for somebody. He is that way you know. He doesnice unusual things that nobody else would think of doing, and I justexpect you'll find out some day that Billy has been doing one of those. There's that man on the mountain, for instance. He might be still verysick, and it would be just like Billy to stay and see to him. Maybethere isn't anybody else around to do it, and now that Mark has gone hewould feel responsible about it. Of course he ought to have told youbefore he went, but he wouldn't likely have expected to stay long, andthen boys don't think. They don't realize how hard it is not tounderstand--!"

"Thas'so, Miss Marilyn, " sniffed Miss Saxon, "He don't hardly everthink. But he mighta phomed. "

"Well, it isn't likely they have phones on the mountain, and youhaven't any, have you? How could he?"

"He mighta phomed to you. "

"Yes, he might, but you know how boys are, he wouldn't want to botheranybody. And if the man was in a lonely cabin somewhere he couldn't getto a phone. "

"Thas'so too. Oh, Miss Marilyn, you always do think up comfort. You'rejust like your ma and pa. But Billy, he's been so kinda peaked lately, so sorta gentle, and then again sorta crazy like, just like his motheruseta be 'fore her husband left her. I couldn't help worryin'. "

"Well, now, Miss Saxon, I'll inquire around all I can without rousingany suspicion. You know Billy would hate that. "

"Oh, I know he would, " flushed the little woman nervously. 

"So I'll just ask the boys if they know where he is and where they sawhim last, and don't you worry. I'll tell them I have a message for himyou know, and you just stop crying and rest easy and don't tell a soulyet till I look around. Here comes mother. She'll help you better thanI can. "

Mrs. Severn in a cool white dimity came quietly into the room, bringinga restful calm with her, and while Lynn was out on her errand of mercyshe slipped a strong arm around the other woman's waist and had herdown on her knees in the alcove behind the curtains, and had committedthe whole matter to a loving Heavenly Father, Billy and the tiredlittle Aunt, and all the little details of life that harrow so on aburdened soul; and somehow when they rose the day was cooler, and lifelooked more possible to poor Aunt Saxon. 

Presently came Lynn, brightly. She had seen the boys. They had metBilly in Economy day before yesterday. He had said he had a job, hedidn't know how long it would last, and he might not be able to come tobase ball practice. He told them who to put in his place till he gotback. 

"There, now, Miss Saxon, you go home and lie down and take a goodsleep. You've put this whole thing in the hands of the Lord, now don'ttake it out again. Just trust Him. Billy'll come back safe and sound, and there'll be some good reason for it, " said Mrs. Severn. And AuntSaxon, smiling wistfully, shyly apologetic for her foolishness, greatlycheered and comforted, went. But Lynn went up to her little white roomand prayed earnestly, adding Billy to her prayer for Mark. Where wasBilly Gaston?

When Miss Saxon went home she found a letter in the letter box out bythe gate addressed to Billy. This set her heart to palpitating againand she almost lost her faith in prayer and took to her own worriesonce more. But she carried the letter in and held it up to the window, trying her best to make out anything written therein. She justifiedthis to her conscience by saying that it might give a clue to Billy'swhereabouts. Billy never got letters. Maybe, it might be from his longlost father, though they had all reason to believe him dead. Or maybe--Oh, what if Albert Gaston had come back and kidnapped Billy! Thethought was too awful. She dropped right down in the kitchen where shestood by the old patchwork rocking chair that always stood handy in thewindow when she wanted to peel potatoes, and prayed: "Oh, God, don'tlet it be! Don't bring that bad man back to this world again! Take careof my Billy and bring him back to me, Amen!" Over and over again sheprayed, and it seemed to comfort her. Then she rose, and put the teakettle on and carefully steamed open the letter. She had not lost allhope when she took time to steam it open in place of tearing it, forshe was still worse afraid that Billy might return and scold her formeddling with his precious letter, then she was afraid he would notreturn. While the steam was gathering she tried to justify herself inBilly's eyes for opening it at all. After her prayer it seemed a sortof desecration. So the kettle had almost boiled away before shemustered courage to hold the envelope over the steam, and while she didthis she noticed for the first time significantly that the postmark wasNew York. Perhaps it was from Mark. Then Billy was not with Mark! Butperhaps the letter would tell. 

So she opened the flap very carefully, and pulled out the single sheetof paper, stepping nearer the window to read it in the late afternoonlight. It read: "Dear Kid, shut your mouth and saw wood. Buddy. " Thatwas all. 

Aunt Saxon lifted frightened eyes and stared at the lilac bush outsidethe window, the water spout where Billy often shinned up and down, theold apple tree that he would climb before he was large enough to betrusted, and then she read the letter again. But it meant nothing toher. It seemed a horrible riddle. She took a pencil and a scrap ofpaper and quickly transcribed the mysterious words, omitting not eventhe punctuation, and then hurriedly returned the letter to itsenvelope, clapped the flap down and held it tight. When it was dry sheput the letter up in plain sight on the top of the old secretary whereBilly could find it at once when he came in. She was taking no chanceson Billy finding her opening his mail. It never had happened before, because Billy never had had a letter before, except notices about baseball and athletic association, but she meant it never should happen. She knew instinctively that if it ever did she would lose Billy, if notimmediately, then surely eventually, for Billy resented above allthings interference. Then Aunt Saxon sat down to study thetranscription. But after a long and thorough perusal she folded itcarefully and pinned it in her bosom. But she went more cheerily downto the market to get something for supper. Billy might come any timenow. His letter was here, and he would surely come home to get hisletter. 

Down at the store she met Marilyn, who told her she looked betteralready, and the poor soul, never able to hold her tongue, had to tellthe girl about the letter. 

"He's had a letter, " she said brightening, "about a job I guess. It wasthere when I got back. It's sawing wood. The letter doesn't have anyhead. It just says about sawing wood. I 'spose that's where he is, buthe ought to have let me know. He was afraid I'd make a fuss about it, Ialways do. I'm afraid of those big saws they use. He's so careless. Buthe was set on a grown-up job. I couldn't get him to paste labels oncans at the factory, he said it was too much of a kid game. "

"Oh, " said Marilyn, wondering, "Sawing wood. Well, that's where he isof course, and it's good healthy work. I wouldn't worry. Billy ispretty careful I think. He'll take care of himself. "

But to herself on the way home she said: "How queer for Billy to go offsawing wood just now! It doesn't seem like him. They can't be so hardup. There must be something behind it all. I hope I didn't startanything asking him to stick by Mark! Oh, _where_ is Mark?"

That afternoon Marilyn took a horseback ride, and touched all thepoints she knew where there might be likely to be woodsawing going on, but no Billy was on the job anywhere. 

As she rode home through Economy she saw Mrs. Fenner scuttling down aside street from the jail, and hurrying into her own side gate like alittle frightened lizard. 

Marilyn came back home heart sick and sad, and took refuge in thechurch and her bells. At least she could call to Billy across the hillssomewhere by playing the songs he loved the best. And perhaps theirechoes would somehow cross the miles to Mark too, by that strangemysterious power that spirit can reach to spirit across space or yearsor even estrangement, and draw the thoughts irresistibly. So she sat atthe organ and played her heart out, ringing all the old sweet songsthat Mark used to love when the bells first were new and she waslearning to play them; Highland Laddie, Bonnie Bonnie Warld, Mavourneen, Kentucky Home, songs that she had kept fresh in her heartand sometimes played for Billy now and then. And then the old hymns. Did they echo far enough to reach him where he had gone, Mark sittingalone in his inferno? Billy holding his breath and trying to find a wayout of his? Did they hear those bells calling?

 "Oh, God our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come! Our refuge from the stormy blast, And our eternal home!"

The soul of the girl in the little dusky church went up in a prayerwith the bells. 

 "Before the hills in order stood, Or earth received her frame, From everlasting Thou art God! A thousand years the same!"

Every mortal in the village knew the words, and in kitchens now, preparing savory suppers, or down in the mills and factories, or out onthe street coming home, they were humming them, or repeating them overin their hearts. The bells did not ring the melody alone. The messagewas well known and came to every heart. Mark and Billy knew them too. Perhaps by telepathy the tune would travel to their minds and bringtheir words along:

 "Under the shadow of Thy wings Thy saints have dwelt secure, Sufficient is Thine arm alone, And Thy defense is sure!"

The bells ceased ringing and the vibration slowly died away, hillanswering to hill, in waves of softly fading sound, while the peoplewent to their suppers with a light of blessing and uplift on theirfaces. But in the darkened church, Marilyn, with her fingers on thekeys and her face down upon her hands was praying, praying that Godwould shelter Mark and Billy. 

XXIII

High in the tree over Billy's head a little chipmunk whisked with a nutin his mouth. He selected a comfortable rocking branch, unfurled histail for a wind shield at his back, and sat up to his supper table asit were with the nut in his two hands. Something unusual caught hisattention as he was about to attack the nutshell, and he cocked hislittle striped head around, up, and down, and took in Billy. Then asquirrel smile overspread his furry face and a twinkle seemed to comein his eye. With a wink down toward Billy he went to work. Crack, crack, crack! The shell was open. Crack! And a large section fell, whirling spinning down, straight down. The squirrel paused in hisnibbling and cocked an eye again with that mischievous twinkle as if heenjoyed the joke, watching the light bit of shell in its swift descent, plump on the end of Billy's nose. It couldn't have hit straighter ifChippie had been pitcher for the Sabbath Valley base ball team. 

Billy opened his eyes with a start and a scowl, and there before him, glaring like a wild beast, thick lips agap showing gnarled yellowteeth, wicked eyes, red glittering and murderous, was Pat, ugly, formidable and threatening!

"Come outta there you little varmint you!" roared Pat. "Come out andI'll skin the nasty yella hide off'n ya. I gotcha good and hard nowright where I wantcha an' ye won't--"

Bang! Click!--BANG!

Billy had been lying among the thick undergrowth, flat on his back, hisleft arm flung above his head, but his right arm was thrust out fromhis body under a thick clump of laurel, and his right hand held the gunready for any emergency when he inadvertently went to sleep. The gunwas pointed down the Valley along the ground and his fingers wrappedknowingly, loving around the weapon, --he had so long wanted to own oneof his own. That gun was not included in the blood money and was not tobe returned. It was a perquisite of war. 

Billy was all there always, and even awakening suddenly from muchneeded sleep he was on the job. One glance at Pat's devilish face andhis fingers automatically pulled the trigger. The report roared outalong the Valley like a volley from a regiment. 

Billy hardly felt the rebound of the weapon before he realized thatPatrick was no more between his vision and the sun's last rays. Patrickwas legging it down the Valley with all the strength he had left, andtaking no time to look back. Billy had presence of mind to let offanother volley before he rose to investigate; but there was nothingleft of Pat but a ruffled path in the undergrowth and a waving branchor two he had turned aside in his going. So that was that! Doggone it, why did he have to go to sleep? If he had only been ready he could havemanaged this affair so much better for his own ends. He wanted a heartto heart talk with Pat while he had him good and frightened, and now itwas too late. He must get back to the other job. He shinned up a treeand observed the broad shoulders of Pat wallowing up the bank over bythe railroad. He was going back to the station. It was as well. Hemight see him again tomorrow perhaps, for Pat he must have as evidence. And besides, Pat might read the note and conclude to come back andanswer it. 

Billy parted the bushes to see if Pat had taken the money and note withhim, and lo, here was the rude mountain telephone box wide open withthe bunch of keys in the lock just as Pat must have left it when hediscovered the paper and money, or perhaps Pat had been going to reportto Sam what had happened, who knew? You see Billy knew nothing of hislittle red and brown striped partner up in the tree who had dropped anut to warn him of danger, and did not realize that Chippie had alsostartled Pat, and set him looking among the bushes for the sources ofthe sound. 

But Billy knew how to take advantage of a situation if he didn't knowwhat made it, and in a trice he was down on his knees with the crudereceiver in his hands. It was too late to ride down to the Blue Duckand telephone, but here was a telephone come to him, and now was achance to try if it was a telephone at all, or only a private wire runsecretly. He waited breathless with the long hum of wires in his ears, and then a quick click and "Number please. " Billy could hardly commandhis voice but he murmured "Economy 13" in a low growl, his hard younghands shaking with excitement. "Your letter please!" Billy lookedwildly at the rough box but could see no sign of number. "Why, it's thestation, doncha know? What's thamatterwithya?" His spirits were rising. "J" stated the operator patiently. "Well, jay then, " said Billy, "WhaddoIcare?" "Just-a-minute-please, " and suddenly the Chief's voiceboomed out reassuringly. Billy cast a furtive eye back of him in thedusk and fell to his business with relief. 

"Say, Chief, that you? This's Bill! Say, Chief, I wantcha he'p rightaway pretty quick! Got a line on those guys! You bring three men an'ge'down on the Lone Valley Road below Stark mountain an' keep yer eyepeeled t'ward the hanted house. Savvy? Yes, old hanted house, you know. You wait there till I signal. Yes, flash! Listen, one wink if you go toright, two come up straight, and three to the left. If it's only onerepeated several times, you spread all round. Yep. I'm goin' up thereright now. No, Chief, I wouldn't call ye f'I didn't think t'was prettysure. Yep! I think they'll come out soon's it gets real dark. Yep, Ithink they ben there all day. I ain't sure, but I think. You won't failme, will you Chief. No, sure! I'll stick by. Be sure to bring threemen, there's two of 'em, I ain't rightly sure but three. I jus' stirredanother up. Whatssay? No, I'm 'lone! Aw, I'm awright! Sure. I'll becareful. Whatssay? Where? Oh' I'm at a hole in the ground. Yes, downbelow Pleasant Valley station. Some telephone! I'll show it to yout'morra! S'long, Chief, I gotta go! It's gettin' dark, goobbye!"

Billy gave hurried glances about and rustled under the branches like asnake over to where old trusty lay. In ten minutes more he was worminghis way up the side of Stark mountain, while Pat was fortifying himselfwell within the little station, behind tables and desks for the night, and scanning the Valley from the dusty window panes. 

Billy parked his wheel in its usual place and continued up the hill tothe opening at the back, then stood long listening. Once he thought heheard something drop inside the kitchen door, but no sound followed itand he concluded it had been a rat. Half way between himself and theback door something gleamed faintly in the starlight. He didn'tremember to have seen anything there before. He stole cautiously over, moving so slowly that he could not even hear himself. He paused besidethe gleam and examined. It was an empty flask still redolent. Ummm!Booze! Billy wasn't surprised. Of course they would try to getsomething to while away their seclusion until they dared venture forthwith their booty. He continued his cautious passage toward the houseand then began to encircle it, keeping close to the wall and feelinghis way along, for the moon would be late and small that night and hemust work entirely by starlight. It was his intention after goingaround the house to enter and reconnoitre in his stocking feet. As heneared the front of the house he dropped both hands to his sweaterpockets, the revolver in his right hand with its two preciouscartridges, the flash light which he had taken care to renew in Economyin his left hand, fingers ready to use either instantly. He turned thecorner and stole on toward the front door, still noiseless as a mousewould go, his rubber sneakers touching like velvet in the grass. 

He was only two feet from the front stoop when he become aware ofdanger, something, a familiar scent, a breathlessness, and then asudden stir. A dark thing ahead and the feeling of something comingbehind. Billy as if a football signal had been given, grew calm andalert. Instantly both arms flashed up, and down the mountain shot twolong yellow winks of light, and simultaneously two sharp reports of agun, followed almost instantly by another shot, more sinister in sound, and Billy's right arm dropped limply by his side, while a sick wave ofpain passed over him. 

But he could not stop for that. He remembered the day when Mark hadbeen coaching the football team and had told them that they must notstop for _anything_ when they were in action. If they thoughttheir legs were broken, or they were mortally wounded and dying, theymust not even think of it. Football was the one thing, and they were toforget they were dead and go ahead with every whiff of punch there wasin them, blind or lame, or dead even, because when they were playing, football was the only thing that counted. And if they were sick orwounded or bleeding let the wound or the sickness take care of itself. _They_ were _playing football!_ So Billy felt now. 

He hurled himself viciously at the dark shadow ahead, which he mentallyregistered as Link because he seemed long to tackle, and then kickedbehind at the thing that came after, and struggled manfully with athrottling hand on his throat till a wad of vile cloth was forced intohis mouth--and just as he had a half Nelson on Shorty, too! If he couldhave got Shorty down and stood on him he might have beaten off Linkuntil Chief got there. Where was Chief? Where was the gun? Where washe? His head was swimming. Was it his head he had hit against the wall, or did he bang Shorty's? How it resounded! There were winding stairs inhis head and he seemed to be climbing them, up, up, up, till he droppedin a heap on the floor, a hard floor all dust, and the dust came intohis nostrils. He was choking with that rag! Why couldn't he pull itout? What was cutting his wrists when he tried to raise his hand? Andwhat was that queer pain in his shoulder?

There were shouts outside. How did he get inside? Was that moreshooting? Perhaps he had found his gun after all. Perhaps he wasshooting the men before the Chief got there, and that was bad, becausehe didn't feel competent to judge about a thing as serious as shootingwith that dirty rag in his mouth. He must get rid of it somehow. Doggone it! He had somehow got his hands all tangled up in cords, andhe must get them out no matter if they did cut. He had to give theChief a signal. 

He struggled again with all his might, and something somewhere gaveway. He wasn't sure what, but he seemed to be sinking down, perhapsdown stairs or down the mountain, somehow so it was down where theChief--! where Mark! The light in his brain went out and he lay as onedead in the great dusty front bedroom where a man who had sinned, hanged himself once because he couldn't bear his conscience any longer. 

And outside in the front door yard five men struggled in the dark, withcurses, and shots, and twice one almost escaped, for Link wasdesperate, having a record behind him that would be enough for ten mento run away from. 

But after the two were bound and secured in the car down at the foot ofthe mountain, the Chief lingered, and looking up said in a low tone toone of his men: "I wonder where that boy is!"

"Oh, he's all right, " said his assistant easily, "he's off on anotherpiece of business by this time, Chief. He likes to seem mysterious. It's just his way. Say, Chief, we gotta get back if we wantta meet thattrain down at Unity t'night. "

That was true too, and most important, so the Chief with a worriedglance toward the dark mountain turned his car and hurried his captivesaway. Now that they were where he could get a glance at them in the dimlight of the car, he felt pretty sure they were a couple of "birds" hehad been looking for for quite a while. If that was so he must rewardBilly somehow. That boy was a little wonder. He would make a detectivesome day. It wouldn't be a bad idea to take him on in a quiet sort ofway and train him. He might be a great help. He mustn't forget thisnight's work. And what was that the kid had said about a secretunderground wire? He must look into it as soon as this murder trial wasoff the docket. That murder trial worried him. He didn't like the turnthings were taking. 

XXIV

In the gray of the morning Billy came to himself and stared around inthe stuffy grimness everywhere. The gag was still in his mouth. He putup his hand involuntarily and pulled it out, and then remembered thathis hands had been tied. Then he must have succeeded in breaking thecord! The other hand was still encumbered and his feet were tiedtogether, but it happened that the well hand was the freed one, and soafter a hard struggle he succeeded in getting out of the tangle ofknots and upon his feet. He worked cautiously because he wasn't surehow much of what he remembered was dream and how much was reality. Thetwo men might be in the house yet, very likely were, asleep somewhere. He must steal down and get away before they awoke. 

There was something warm and sticky on the floor and it had got on hisclothes, but he took no notice of it at first. He wondered what thatsick pain in his shoulder was, but he had not time to stop and see nowor even to think about it. He must call the Chief before the men wereawake. So he managed to get upon his feet land steady himself againstthe wall, for he felt dizzy and faint when he tried to walk. But hemanaged to get into the hall, and peer into each room, and more andmore as he went he felt he was alone in the house. Then he had failedand the men were gone! Aw Gee! Pat too! What a fool he had been, thinking he could manage the affair! He ought to have taken the Chiefinto his confidence and let him come along, Aw Gee!

Down in the kitchen he found a pail of water and a cup. He drankthirstily. His head felt hot and the veins in his neck throbbed. Thereseemed to be a lump on his forehead. He bathed his face and head. Howgood it felt! Then he found a whiskey bottle on the table half full. This after carefully smelling he poured over his bruised wrists, sopping it on his head and forehead, and finally pouring some down hisshoulder that pained so, and all that he did was done blindly, like onein a dream; just an involuntary searching for means to go on andfulfill his purpose. 

After another drink of water he seemed to be able to think moreclearly. That tapping in the cellar yesterday! What had that been? Hemust look and see. Yes, that was really what he had come about. Perhapsthe men were down there yet hidden away. He opened the cellar door andlistened. Doggone it where was that gun of his? But the flash light!Yes, the flash light!

He shot the light ahead of him as he went down, moving as in a dream, but keeping true to type, cautious, careful, stealthy. At last he wasdown. No one there! He turned the little flash into every nook andcranny, not excepting the ledges above the cellar wall whereon thefloor beams rested. Once he came on a tin box long and flat and newlooking. It seemed strange to meet it here. There was no dust upon it. He poked it down with his torch and it sprawled open at his feet. Papers, long folded papers printed with writing in between, like bondsor deeds or something. He stooped and waved the flash above them andcaught the name Shafton in one. It was an insurance paper, house andfurniture. He felt too stupid to quite understand, but it grew into hisconsciousness that these were the things he was looking for. Hegathered them up, stuffing them carefully inside his blouse. They wouldbe safe there. Then he turned to go upstairs, but stumbled over a pileof coal out in the floor and fell. It gave him a sick sensation tofall. It almost seemed that he couldn't get up again, but now he hadfound the papers he must. He, crawled to his knees, and felt around, then turned his light on. This was strange! A heap of coal out in themiddle of the floor, almost a foot from the rest! A rusty shovel laybeside it, a chisel and a big stone. Ah! The tapping! He got upforgetting his pain and began to kick away the coal, turning the flashlight down. Yes, there was a crack in the cement, a loose piece. Hecould almost lift it with his foot. He pried at it with the toe of hisshoe, and then lifted it with much effort out of the way. It was quitea big piece, more than a foot in diameter! The ground was softunderneath as if it had been recently worked over. He stooped andplunged the fingers of his good hand in and felt around, laying thelight on the floor so it would shed a glare over the spot where heworked. He could feel down several inches. There seemed to be somethingsoft like cloth or leather. He pulled at it and finally brought it up. A leather bag girt about with a thong of leather. He picked the knotand turned the flash in. It sent forth a million green lights. Thereseemed also to be a rope of white glistening things that reminded himof Saxy's tears. That brought a pang. Saxy would be crying! He mustremember that and do something about it. He must have been away a longtime and perhaps those men would be coming back. But it wouldn't do toleave these things here. They were the Shafton jewels. What anybodywanted of a lot of shiny little stones like that and a rope of tears!But then if they did they did, and they were theirs and they oughttahave 'em. This was the thing he had come to do. Get those jewels andpapers back! Make up as far as he could for what he had done! And hemust do it now quick before he got sick. He felt he was getting sickand he mustn't think about it or he would turn into Aunt Saxon. Thatwas the queerest thing, back in his mind he felt this _was_ AuntSaxon down here in the haunted cellar playing with green stones andropes of tears, and he must hurry quick before she found him and toldhim he couldn't finish what he had to do. 

He did the work thoroughly, feeling down in the hole again, but foundnothing more. Then he stuffed the bag inside his blouse and buttoned uphis sweater with his well hand and somehow got up the stairs. That armpained him a lot, and he found his sweater was wet. So he took hishandkerchief and tied it tight around the place that hurt the most, holding one end in his teeth to make the knot firm. 

The sun blinded him as he stumbled down the back steps and went to gethis wheel, but somehow he managed it, plunging through the brakes andtangles, and back to the road. 

It ran in his brain where the Shaftons lived out in the country on theJersey shore. He had a mental picture in the back of his mind how toget there. He knew that when he struck the Highroad there was nothingto do but keep straight on till he crossed the State Line and then hewould find it somehow, although it was miles away. If he had beenhimself he would have known it was an impossible journey in his presentcondition, but he wasn't thinking of impossibilities. He had to do it, didn't he? He, Billy, had set out to make reparation for the confusionhe had wrought in his small world, and he meant to do so, though allhell should rise against him. Hell! That was it. He could see theflames in hot little spots where the morning sun struck. He could hearthe bells striking the hour in the world he used to know that was notfor him any more. He zigzagged along the road in a crazy way, andstrange to say he met nobody he knew, for it was early. Ten minutesafter he passed the Crossroads Elder Harricutt went across the Highwaytoward Economy to his day's work, and he would have loved to have seenBilly, and his rusty old wheel, staggering along in that crazy way andsmelling of whiskey like a whole moonshiner, fairly reeking withwhiskey as he joggled down the road, and a queer little tinkle now andthen just inside his blouse as if he carried loaded dice. Oh, he wouldhave loved to have caught Billy shooting crap!

But he was too late, and Billy swam on, the sun growing hotter on hisaching head, the light more blinding to his blood shot eyes, the lumpbigger and bluer on his grimy forehead. 

About ten o'clock a car came by, slowed down, the driver watchingBilly, though Billy took no note of him. Billy was looking on theground dreaming he was searching for the state line. He had a crazynotion it oughtta be there somewhere. 

The man in the car stopped and called to him:

"How about putting your wheel in the back seat and letting me give youa lift? You look pretty tired. "

Billy lifted bleared eyes and stopped pedalling, almost falling off hiswheel, but recovering himself with a wrench of pain and sliding off. 

"Awwright!" said Billy, "Thanks!"

"You look all in, son, " said the man kindly. 

"Yep, " said Billy laconically, "'yam! Been up all night. Care f'Isleep?"

"Help yourself, " said the man, giving a lift with the wheel, andputting it in behind. 

Billy curled down in the back seat without further ceremony. 

"Where are you going son?"

Billy named the country seat of the Shaftons, having no idea how faraway it was. The man gave a whistle. 

"What! On that wheel? Well, go to sleep son. I'm going there myself, sodon't worry. I'll wake you up when you get there. "

So Billy slept through the first long journey he had taken since hecame to live with Aunt Saxon, slept profoundly with an oblivion thatalmost amounted to coma. Sometimes the man, looking back, was temptedto stop and see if the boy was yet alive, but a light touch on the hotforehead showed him that life was not extinct, and they whirled on. 

Three hours later Billy was awakened by a sharp shake of his soreshoulder and a stinging pain that shot through him like fire. Fire!Fire! He was on fire! That was how he felt as he opened his eyes andglared at the stranger:

"Aw, lookout there, whatterya doin'?" he blazed, "Whadda ya think I am?A football? Don't touch me. I'll get out. This the place? Thanks fertha ride, I was all in. Say, d'ya know a guy by the name of Shafton?"

"Shafton?" asked the man astonished, "are you going to Shafton's?"

"Sure, " said Billy, "anything wrong about that? Where does he hangout?" The look of Billy, and more than all the smell of him made itquite apparent to the casual observer that he had been drinking, andthe man eyed him compassionately. "Poor little fool! He's beginningyoung. What on earth does he want at Shaftons?"

"I'spose you've come down after the reward, " grinned the man, "I couldhave saved you the trouble if you'd told me. The kidnapped son has gothome. They are not in need of further information. "

Billy gave him a superior leer with one eye closed:

"You may not know all there is to know about that, " he said impudently, "where did you say he lived?"

The man shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 

"Suit yourself, " he said, "I doubt if they'll see you. They have hadnothing but a stream of vagrants for two days and they're about sick ofit. They live on the next estate and the gateway is right around thatcorner. "

"I ain't no vagrant, " glared Billy, and limped away with old trustyunder his left arm. 

No one molested him as he walked in the arched and ivied gateway, forthe gate keeper was off on a little private errand of his own at aplace where prohibition had not yet penetrated. Billy felt too heavyand dizzy to mount his wheel, but he leaned on the saddle as he walkedand tried to get things straight in his head. He oughtn't to have goneto sleep, that's what he oughtn't. But this job would soon be over andthen he would hike it for home. Gee! Wouldn't home feel good! And AuntSaxon would bathe his head with wych hazel and make cold things for himto drink! Aw, Gee!

The pedigreed dogs of which the place boasted a number came suddenlydown upon him in a great flare of noise, but dogs were always hisfriends, why should he worry? A pity he couldn't stop to make friendswith them just now. Some dogs! Here pup! Gee! What a dog to own! Thedogs whined and fawned upon him. Pedigree or no pedigree, rags andwhiskey and dirt notwithstanding, they knew a man when they saw one, and Billy hadn't batted an eyelid when they tried their worst trampbarks on him. They wagged their silky tails and tumbled over each otherto get first place to him, and so escorted proudly he dropped oldtrusty by a clump of imported rhododendrons and limped up the marblesteps to the wide vistas of circular piazzas that stretched toseemingly infinite distances, and wondered if he should ever find thefront door. 

An imposing butler appeared with a silver tray, and stood aghast. 

"Shafton live here?" inquired Billy trying to look business like. "Liketo see him er the missus a minute, " he added as the frowning visionbowed. The butler politely but firmly told him that the master andmistress had other business and no desire to see him. The younggentleman had come home, and the reward had been withdrawn. If it wasabout the reward he had come he could go down to the village and findthe detective. The house people didn't want to interview any morecallers. 

"Well, say, " said Billy disgusted, "after I've come all this way too!You go tell 'er I've brought her jewels! You go tell 'er I've _gottumhere!_"

The butler opened the door a little wider: he suggested that seeing wasbelieving. 

"Not on yer tin type!" snapped Billy, "I show 'em to nobody an' I give'em to nobody but the owner! Where's the young fella? He knows me. Tell'im I brang his ma's string o' beads an' things. "

Billy was weary. His head was spinning round. His temper was rising. 

"Aw, --you make me tired! Get out of my way!" He lowered his head andmade a football dive with his head in the region of the dignifiedbutler's stomach, and before that dignitary had recovered his poiseBilly with two collies joyously escorting him, stood blinking in wonderover the great beautiful living room, for all the world as pretty asthe church at home, only stranger, with things around that he couldn'tmake out the use of. 

"Where'ur they at? Where are the folks?" he shouted back to the butlerwho was coming after him with menace in his eye. 

"What is the matter, Morris? What is all this noise about?" came alady's voice in pettish tones from up above somewhere. "Didn't I tellyou that I wouldn't see another one of those dreadful people to-day?"

Billy located her smooth old childish face at once and strode to thefoot of the stairs peering up at the lady, white with pain from hiscontact with the butler, but alert now to the task before him:

"Say, Miz Shaf't'n, I got yer jools, would ya mind takin' 'em rightnow? 'Cause I'm all in an' I wantta get home. "

His head was going around now like a merry-go-round, but he steadiedhimself by the bannister:

"Why, what do you mean?" asked the lady descending a step or two, avision of marcelled white hair, violet and lace negligee, and wellpreserved features, "You've got them _there_? Let me see them. "

"He's been drinking, Sarah, can't you smell it?" said a man's voicehigher up, "Come away and let Morris deal with him. Really Sarah, we'llhave to go away if this keeps up. "

"Say, you guy up there, just shut yer trap a minute won't ya! Here, MizShaf't'n, are these here yours?"

Billy struggled with the neck of his blouse and brought forth theleather bag, gripped the knot fiercely in his teeth, ran his fingers inthe bag as he held it in his mouth, his lamed arm hanging at his side, and drew forth the magnificent pearls. 

"William! My pearls!" shrieked the lady. 

The gentleman came down incredulous, and looked over her shoulder. 

"I believe they are, Sarah, " he said. 

Billy leered feverishly up at him, and produced a sheaf of papers, seemingly burrowing somewhere in his internal regions to bring themforth. 

"And here, d'these b'long?"

The master of the house gripped them. 

"Sarah! The bonds! And the South American Shares!" They were too busyto notice Billy who stood swaying by the newel post, his duty done now, the dogs grouped about him. 

"Say, c'n I get me a drink?" he asked of the butler, who hovered nearuncertain what to be doing now that the tide was turned. 

The lady looked up. 

"Morris!"

He scarcely heard the lady's words but almost immediately a tall slimglass of frosty drink, that smelled of wild grapes, tasted of oranges, and cooled him down to the soul again, was put into his hand and hegulped it greedily. 

"Where did you say you found these, young man?" The gentleman eyed himsternly, and Billy's old spirit flamed up:

"I didn't say, " said Billy. 

"But you know we've got to have all the evidence before we can give thereward--!"

"Aw, cut it out! I don't want no reward. Wouldn't take it if you giveit to me! I just wantta get home. Say, you gotta telephone?"

"Why certainly. " This was the most astonishing burglar!

"Well, where is't? Lemme call long distance on it? I ain't got the tinnow, but I'll pay ya when I git back home!"

"Why, the idea! Take him to the telephone Morris. Right there! Thisone--!"

But Billy had sighted one on a mahogany desk near at hand and hetoppled to the edge of the chair that stood before it. He took down thereceiver in a shaky hand, calling Long Distance. 

"This Long Distance? Well, gimme Economy 13. "

The Shaftons for the instant were busy looking over the papers, identifying each jewel, wondering if any were missing. They did notnotice Billy till a gruff young voice rang out with a pathetic tremblein it: "That you Chief? This is Billy. Say, c'n I bother you to phoneto Miss Severn an' ast her to tell m'yant I'm aw'wright? Yes, tell herI'll be home soon now, an' I'll explain. And Chief, I'm mighty sorrythose two guys got away, but I couldn't help it. We'll get 'em yet. Hope you didn't wait long. Tell you more when I see ya, S'long--!"

The boyish voice trailed off into silence as the receiver fell with acrash to the polished desk, and Billy slipped off the chair and lay ina huddled heap on the costly rug. 

"Oh, mercy!" cried the lady, "Is he drunk or what?"

"Come away Sarah, let Morris deal--"

"But he's sick, I believe, William. Look how white he is. I believe heis dead! William, he may have come a long way in the heat! He may havehad a sunstroke! Morris, send for a doctor quick! And--call theambulance too! You better telephone the hospital. We can't have himhere! William, look here, what's this on his sleeve? Blood? Oh, William! And we didn't give him any reward--!"

And so, while the days hastened on Billy lay between clean white sheetson a bed of pain in a private ward of a wonderful Memorial Hospital putup by the Shaftons in honor of a child that died. Tossing and moaning, and dreaming of unquenchable fire, always trying to climb out of thehot crater that held him, and never getting quite to the top, alwaysknowing there was something he must do, yet never quite finding outwhat it was. And back in Sabbath Valley Aunt Saxon prayed and cried andwaited and took heart of cheer from the message the Chief had sent toLynn. And quietly the day approached for the trial of Mark Carter, buthis mother did not yet know. 

XXV

Mrs. Gibson, the wife of the comparatively new elder of the SabbathValley church was a semi-invalid. That is she wasn't able to do her ownwork and kept "help. " The help was a lady of ample proportions whosehusband had died and whose fortunes were depleted. She consented toassist Mrs. Gibson provided she were considered one of the family, andshe presented a continual front of offense so that the favored familymust walk most circumspectly if they would not have her retire to herroom with hurt feelings and leave them to shift for themselves. 

On the morning of the trial she settled herself at her side of thebreakfast table, after a number of excursions to the kitchen for thingsshe had forgotten, the cream, the coffee, and the brown bread, of whichMr. Gibson was very fond. She was prepared to enjoy her own breakfast. Mr. Gibson generally managed to bolt his while these excursions ofmemory were being carried on and escape the morning news, but Mrs. Gibson, well knowing which side her bread was buttered, and not knowingwhere she could get another housekeeper, usually managed to sit it out. 

"Well, this is a great day for Sabbath Valley, " said Mrs. Frostmournfully, spreading an ample slice of bread deep with butter, andbalancing it on the uplifted fingers of one hand while she stirred theremainder of the cream into her coffee with one of the best silverspoons. She was wide and bulgy and her chair always seemed inadequatewhen she settled thus for nourishment. 

"A great day, " she repeated sadly, taking an audible sip of her coffee. 

"A great day?" repeated little Mrs. Gibson with a puzzled air, quicklyrecalling her abstracted thoughts. 

"Yes. Nobody ever thought anybody in Sabbath Valley would ever be triedfor murder!"

"Oh!" said Mrs. Gibson sharply, drawing back her chair as if she werein a hurry and rolling up her napkin quickly. 

"Yes, poor Mark Carter! I remember his sweet little face and his longyellow curls and his baby smile as if it were yesterday!" narrowing hereyes and harrowing her voice, "I wonder if his poor mother knows yet. "

"I should hope not!" said Mrs. Gibson rising precipitately andwandering over to the window where hung a gilded canary cage. "Mrs. Frost, did you remember to give the canary some seed and fresh water?"

"Yes, I b'lieve so, " responded the fat lady, "But you can't keep herfrom knowing it always. Whatt'll you do when he's _hung?_ Don'tyou think it would be easier for; her to get used to it little bylittle?"

"Mrs. Frost, if you were a dog would you rather have your tail cut offall at once, or little by little?" said Mrs. Gibson mischievously. 

"I shouldn't like to have it cut off at all I'm quite sure, " said Mrs. Frost frostily. 

"Well, perhaps Mrs. Carter might feel that way too, " said the ladybending over a rose geranium and pinching a leaf to smell. 

"I don't understand you, " said Mrs. Frost from her coffee cup, "Oh, youmean that perhaps Mark may not be convicted? Why, my dear lady, thereisn't a chance at all, not a chance in the world for Mark, and whileI'm real sorry I can't say I'd approve. Think of how he's carried on, going with that little huzzy of a Cherry. Mrs. Harricutt says she sawhim have her out riding in his automobile one day--!"

"Oh, --_Mrs. Harricutt!"_ said Mrs. Gibson impatiently, "Mrs. Frost, let's find something pleasanter to talk about. It's a wonderfulmorning. The air's like wine. I wonder If I couldn't take a littlewalk. I mean to ask the doctor. "

"My dear woman, " said Frost patronizingly, "You can't get away from theunpleasant things in this world by just not talking about them!"

"It seems not, " said the Gibson lady patiently, and wandered out on theporch. 

Down the street Marilyn lingered by her mother's chair:

"Are you--going to Economy to-day, mother?"

"Yes, dear, your father and I are both going. Did you--think youought--wanted to--go dear?"

"Oh, I should _hate it!"_ cried Lynn flinging out her hands with aterrible little gesture of despair, "But I wanted to go just to standby Mark. I shall be there anyway, wherever I am, I shall see everythingand feel everything in my heart I know. But in the night it came to methat some one ought to stay with Mrs. Carter!"

"Yes, dear! I had hoped you would think of that. I didn't want tomention it because I wanted you to follow your own heart's leading, butI think she needs you. If you could keep her from finding out until itwas over--"

"But suppose--!"

"Yes, dear, it is possible. I've thought of that, and if it comes therewill be a way I'm sure, but until it does--_then_ suppose--"

"Yes, mother, I'll go and make her have one happy day first anyway. " Ifany of those old vultures come around I'll play the piano or scream allthe while they are there and keep them from telling her a thing!"

"I think, dear, the vultures will all be in Economy to-day. "

"All except Mrs. Frost, mother dear. She can't get away. But she canalways run across the street to borrow a cup of soda. "

So Lynn knelt for a moment in her quiet room, then came down, kissedher mother and father with a face of brave serenity, and went down themaple shaded street with her silk work bag in her hand. And none toosoon. As she tapped at the door of the Carter house she saw Mrs. Frostambling purposefully out of the Gibson gate with a tea cup in her hand. 

"Oh, hurry upstairs and stay there a minute till I get rid of Mrs. Frost, " Lynn whispered smiling as her hostess let her in. "I've come tospend the day with you, and she'll stay till she's told you all thenews and there won't be any left for me. "

Mrs. Carter, greatly delighted with Lynn's company, hurried obedientlyup the stairs and Lynn met the interloper, supplied her with the cup ofsalt she had come for this time, said Mrs. Carter was upstairs makingthe beds and she wouldn't bother her to come down, --_beds, _ mindyou, as if Mark was at home of course--and Mrs. Frost went back acrossthe street puzzled and baffled and resolved to come back later for anegg after that forward young daughter of the minister was gone. 

Lynn locked the front door and ran up stairs. She tolled her hostess upto the attic to show her some ancient gowns and poke bonnets that shehadn't seen since she was a little girl in which she and Mark used todress up and play history stories. 

Half the morning she kept her up there looking at garments long foldedaway, whose wearers had slept in the church yard many years; trinketsof other days, quaint old pictures, photographs and daguerreotypes, anda beautiful curl of Mark's--:

"Marilyn, I'm going to give that to you, " the mother said as she sawthe shining thing lying in the girl's hand, "There's no one living tocare for it after I'm gone, and you will keep it I know till you'resure there's no one would want it I--mean--!"

"I understand what you mean, " said Marilyn, "I will keep it and loveit--for you--and for him. And if there is ever anybody else that--deserves it--why I'll give it to them--!" Then they both laughed tohide the tears behind the unspoken thoughts, and the mother added alittle stubbed shoe and a sheer muslin cap, all delicate embroidery andhemstitching:

"They go together, " she said simply, and Lynn wrapped them allcarefully in a bit of tissue paper and laid them in her silk bag. Asshe turned away she held it close to her heart while the mother closedthe shutters. She shuddered to think of the place where Mark wassitting now, being tried for his life. Her heart flew over the road, entered the court and stood close by his side, with her hand on hisshoulder, and then slipped it in his. She wondered if he knew that shewas praying, praying, praying for him and standing by him, taking theburden of what would have been his mother's grief if she had known, aswell as the heavy burden of her own sorrow. 

The air of the court room was heavy for the place was crowded. Almosteverybody from Sabbath Valley that could come was there, for a greatmany people loved Mark Carter, and this seemed a time when somehow theymust stand by him. People came that liked him and some that did notlike him, but more that liked him and kept hoping against hope that hewould not be indicted. 

The hum of voices suddenly ceased as the prisoner was led in and abreath of awe passed over the place. For until that minute no one wasquite sure that Mark Carter would appear. It had been rumored again andagain that he had run away. Yet here he was, walking tall and straight, his fine head held high as had been his wont. "For all the world likehe walked when he was usher at Mary Anne's wedding, whispered Mrs. Hulse, from Unity. "

The minister and his wife kept their eyes down after the first glimpseof the white face. It seemed a desecration to look at a face that hadsuffered as that one had. Yet the expression upon it now was more as ifit had been set for a certain purpose for this day, and did not mean tochange whatever came. A hopeless, sad, persist look, yet strong withaland with a hint of something fine and high behind it. 

He did not look around as he sat down, merely nodded to a few close tohim whom he recognized. A number, pressed close as he passed, andtouched him, as if they would impress upon him their loyalty, and itwas noticeable that these were mostly of a humble class, working men, boys, and a few old women, people to whom he had been kind. 

Mrs. Severn wrote a little note and sent it up to him, with themessage, "Lynn is with your mother. " Just that. No name signed. But hiseyes sought hers at once and seemed to light, and soon, without anyapparent movement on his part a card came back to her bearing thewords: "I thank you, " But he did not look that way again all day itseemed. His bearing was quiet, sad, aloof, one might almost have saiddisinterested. 

Mark's lawyer was one whom he had picked out of the gutter andliterally forced to stop drinking and get back on his job. He was a manof fine mind and deep gratitude, and was having a frantic time with hisclient, for Mark simply wouldn't talk:

"I wasn't there, I was on Stark mountain, I am, not guilty, " hepersisted, "and that is all I have to say. "

"But my dear friend, don't you realize that mere statements unadornedand uncorroborated won't get you anywhere in court?"

"All right, don't try to defend me then. Let the thing go as it will. That is all I have to say. " And from this decision no one had been ableto shake him. His lawyer was nearly crazy. He had raked the county forwitnesses. He had dug into the annals of that night in every possibledirection. He had unearthed things that it seemed no living being wouldhave thought of, and yet he had not found the one thing of which he wasin search, positive evidence that Mark Carter had been elsewhere andotherwise employed at the time of the shooting. 

"Don't bother so much about it Tony, " said Mark once when they weretalking it over, or the lawyer was talking it over and Mark waslistening. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters any more!" and his voicewas weary as if all hope had vanished from him. 

Anthony Drew looked at him in despair:

"Sometimes I almost think you _want_ to die, " he said. "Do youthink I shall let you go when you pulled me back from worse than death?No, Mark, old man, we're going to pull you through somehow, though Idon't know how. If I were a praying man I'd say that this was the timeto pray. Mark, what's become of that kid you used to think so much of, that was always tagging after you? Billy, --was that his name?"

A wan smile flitted across Mark's face, and a stiff little drawing ofthe old twinkle about eyes and lips:

"I think he'll turn up some time. "

The lawyer eyed him keenly:

"Mark, I believe you've got something up your sleeve. I believe thatkid knows something and you won't let him tell. Where is he?"

"I don't know, Tony" and Mark looked at him straight with clear eyes, and the lawyer knew he was telling the truth. 

Just at the last day Anthony Drew found out about the session meeting. But from Mark he got no further statement than the first one. Markwould not talk. An ordinary lawyer, one that had not been savedhimself, would have given up the defense as hopeless. Anthony simplywouldn't let Mark go undefended. If there were no evidence he wouldmake some somehow, and so he worked hoping against hope up to the verylast minute. He stood now, tall, anxious, a fine face, though showingthe marks of wreck behind him, dark hair silvered at the edges, finedeep lines about his eyes and brows, looking over the assembled throngwith nervous hurrying eyes. At last he seemed to find what he wantedand came quickly down to where the minister sat in an obscure corner, whispering a few words with him. They went out together for a fewminutes and when they came back the minister was grave and thoughtful. He himself had scoured the country round about quietly for Billy, andhe was deeply puzzled. He had promised to tell what he knew. 

The business of the day went forward in the usual way with all the redtape, the cool formalities, as if some trifling matter were at stake, and those who loved Mark sat with aching hearts and waited. The Severnsin their corner sat for the most part with bended heads and prayinghearts. The witnesses for the prosecution were most of them companionsof the dead man, those who had drank and caroused with him, frequentersof the Blue Duck, and they were herded together, an evil looking crowd, but with erect heads and defiant attitude, the air of having donnedunaccustomed garments of righteousness for the occasion, and making agreat deal of it because for once every one must see that they were inthe right. They were fairly loud mouthed in their boasting about it. 

There was the little old wizened up fellow that had been sitting withthe drinks outside the booth the night Billy telephoned. There were theserving men who had waited on Mark and Cherry. There was the proprietorof the Blue Duck himself, who testified that Mark had often been therewith Cherry, though always early in the evening. Once he had caught himoutside the window looking in at the dancers as late as two o'clock atnight, the same window from which the shot was fired that brought Dolphto his death. They testified that Mark had been seen with Cherry muchof late driving in his car, and that she had often been in deepconverse as if having a hot argument about something. 

The feeling was tense in the court room. Tears were in many eyes, hopeless tears in the eyes of those who had loved the boy for years. 

But the grilling order marched on, and witness after witness came, adding another and another little touch to the gradually risingstructure that would shut Mark Carter away from the world that lovedhim and that he loved forever. 

Cherry was called, a flaunting bit of a child with bobbed golden hairand the air of a bold young seraph, her white face bravely painted, hercherry lips cherrier even than the cherry for which she had been named. She wore a silk coat reaching to the bottom of her frock, which wasshorter than the shortest, and daring little high-heeled many strappedshoes with a myriad of bright buckles. Her hat was an insolent affairof cherry red. She made a blinding bit of color in the dreary courtroom. She appeared half frightened, half defiant. Her sharp little faceseemed to have lost its round curves and childlike sweetness. Shetestified that she had been with Mark on the night of the shooting, butthat he had taken her home early and she had seen no more of him thatnight. She admitted that she had returned later to the Blue Duck Tavernwith Dolph and had danced late and eaten supper with him afterwards, and that it was while they were eating that the shot was fired andDolph fell over on the table. No, she didn't see any face at thewindow. She had covered her face with her hands and screamed. Sheguessed she fainted. Questioned further she admitted that she had hadan argument with Mark earlier in the evening, but she "didn't rememberwhat it was about. " They often argued. Yes, Dolph was jealous of Markand tried to stop her going with him. Yes, Mark had tried to stop hergoing with Dolph too, but he never acted jealous--On and on through thesorry little details of Cherry's career. The court room vulturesreceiving it avidly, the more refined part of the company with distasteand disgust. Mark sat with stern white face looking straight at Cherryall the time she was on the stand as if he dared her to say other thanthe truth. When she happened to look that way she gave a gigglinglittle shudder and half turned her shoulder away, avoiding his eyes. But when she was done she had said nothing against Mark, and nothing toclear him either. 

The sharp unscrupulous lawyer who acted for the prosecution had securedsome fellows "of the baser sort" who testified that they had seen MarkCarter buying a gun, that they had seen him creep softly to the window, peer into the room, and take aim. They had been on their way home, hadseen Mark steal along in a very suspicious manner and had followed himto find out what it meant. There were three of them; fellows whom Markhad refused to play against on a County team because they were what iscalled "dirty" players. There had been hot words between Mark and themonce when one of them had kicked a man in the face with spiked shoeswho was just about to make a goal. Mark had succeeded in winning theumpire to his point of view and the others had lost their game andincidentally some money, and they had a grudge against him. Moreoverthere was money in this testimony for The Blue Duck Tavern could notafford to have its habitues in the public eye, and preferred to placethe blame on a man who belonged more to the conservative crowd. TheBlue Duck had never quite approved of Mark, because though he came andwent he never drank, and he sometimes prevented others from doing so. This was unprofitable to them. So matters stood when the noon-hour cameand court adjourned for lunch. 

XXVI

And while the long morning dragged itself away in Economy listening toa tale of shame, over on the bright Jersey coast the waves washedlazily on a silver strand reflecting the blueness of the September sky, and soft breezes hovered around the classic little hospital buildingthat stood in a grove of imported palms, and lifted its white columnspicturesquely like some old Greek temple. 

There was nothing in the life he was living now to remind Billy ofeither hell or Sabbath Valley, yet for long days and weeks he hadstruggled through flames in a deep dark pit lighted only by lurid glareand his soul had well nigh gone out under the torture. Once the doctorsand nurses had stood around and waited for his last breath. This was amarked case. The Shaftons were deeply interested in it. The boy hadmysteriously brought back all their valuable papers and jewels that hadbeen stolen from them, and they were anxious to put him on his feetagain. It went sadly against the comfortable self-complacent grain of aShafton to feel himself under such mortal obligation to any one. 

But Billy was tougher than anyone knew, and one night after he had madethe usual climb through the hot coals on his bare knees to the top ofthe pit, and come to the place where he always fell back, he held on alittle tighter and set his teeth a little harder, and suddenly, with along hard pull that took every atom of strength in his wasted youngbody, he went over the top. Over the top and out into the clean opencountry where he could feel the sea breeze on his hot forehead and knowthat it was good. He was out of hell and he was cooling off. The firststep in the awful fight that began that night in the old haunted houseon the mountain had been won. 

For three days he lay thus, cooling off and resting. He was fed andcared for but he took no cognizance of it except to smile weakly. Swallowing things was like breathing. You had to do it and you didn'tthink about it. The fourth day he began to know the nurses apart, andto realize he was feeling better. As yet the past lay like a blurr ofpain on his mind, and he hadn't a care about anything save just to lieand know that it was good to smell the salt, and see the shimmer ofblue from the window. At times when he slept the sound of bells in oldhymns came to him like a dream and he smiled. But on the fifth morninghe lifted his light head uncertainly and looked out of the window. Gee!That was pretty! And he dropped back and slept again. When he awokethere was a real meal for him. No more slops. Soup, and potato and abit of bread and butter. Gee! It tasted good! He slept again and it wasmorning, or was it the same morning? He didn't know. He tried to figureback and decided he had been in that hospital about three days, butwhen the next morning dawned and he felt the life creeping back intohis veins he began to be uncertain. He asked the nurse how soon hecould get up and get dressed. She smiled in a superior way and said thedoctor hadn't said. It would likely be sometime yet, he had been prettysick. He told her sharply he couldn't spare much more time, and askedher where his clothes were. 

She laughed and said:

"Oh, put away. You'll have some new clothes when you get well. I heardMrs. Shafton talking about it this morning when she was in the office. She's coming to see you pretty soon, and they mean to do a lot for you. You brought back her jewels didn't you? Well, I guess you'll get yourreward all right. "

Billy looked at her blankly. Reward! Gosh! Was that reward going tomeet him again?

"Say, " said he frowning, "I want my own clothes. I don't want any newones. I want my own! Say, I got some stuff in my pockets I don't wanttahave monkeyed with!"

"All right, " she said cheerily, "They're put away safe. You can havethem when you're well. " But when he asked her suddenly what day it wasshe said vaguely "Tuesday, " and went away. He was so tired then he wentto sleep again and slept till they brought his dinner, a big one, chicken and fixings and jelly, and a dish of ice cream! Oh, Gee! Andthen he went to sleep again. But in the morning--how many days was itthen? He woke to sudden consciousness of what he had to do and tosudden suspicion of the time. Billy was coming back to his own. Hiswilyness had returned. He smiled at the nurse ravishingly and asked fora newspaper, but when she brought it he pretended to be asleep, so shelaid it down and went away softly. But he nabbed that paper with a weakhand as soon as her back was turned and read the date! His heart felldown with a dull thud. The third! This was the day of the trial! Itcouldn't be! He read again. Was it really the day of the trial? Thepaper that had the court program had been in his trousers pocket. Hemust have it at once. Perhaps he had made a mistake. Oh, gee! What itwas to be helpless! Why, he was weaker than Aunt Saxon!

He called the nurse crossly. She bustled in and told him the doctor hadjust said he might sit up to-morrow if he kept on without a temperaturefor twenty-four hours longer. But he paid no heed to her. He demandedhis clothes with a young roar of a voice that made her open her eyes. Billy had heretofore been the meekest of meek patients. She was gettingthe voice and manner now that he generally retained for family use. Hetold her there was something in the pocket he must see right away, andhe made such a fuss about it that she was afraid he would bring up histemperature again and finally agreed to get the clothes if he would liereal still and rest afterward. Billy dropped his head back on thepillow and solemnly said: "Aw'wright!" He had visions of going to courtin blue and white striped pajamas. It could be done, but he didn'trelish it. Still, if he had to--!

The nurse brought his jacket and trousers. The sweater was awfullydirty she said, but she was finally prevailed upon to bring that too, and Billy obediently lay down with closed eyes and his arm stretchedout comfortingly over the bundles. The nurse hovered round till heseemed to be asleep and then slipped out for a moment, and the instanther white skirt had vanished from the doorway Billy was alert. Hefumbled the bundles open with nervous fingers and searched eagerly forthe bit of paper. Yes, there it was and the date the third ofSeptember. Aw Gee!

He flung back the neatly tucked sheets, poked a slim white foot thatdidn't look like his at all into a trouser leg, paused for breath anddove the other in, struggled into his jacket and lay down again quicklyunder the sheet. Was that the nurse?

He had to admit that he felt queer, but it would soon pass off, andanyhow if it killed him he had to go. Aw bah! What was a littlesickness anyhow? If he stayed in the hospital any longer they'd make ababy out of him!

The nurse had not returned. He could hear the soft plunk, plunk of herrubber heels on the marble steps. She was going down stairs. Now washis time! Of course he had no shoes and stockings, but what was alittle thing like that? He grasped the bundle of sweater tightly andslid out of bed. His feet felt quite inadequate. In fact he began todoubt their identity. They didn't seem to be there at all when he stoodon them, but he was not to be foiled by feet. If they meant to stick byhim they'd gotta obey him. 

Slowly, cautiously, with his head swimming lightly on ahead of him anda queer gasp of emptiness in the region of his chest that seemed toneed a great deal of breath, he managed a passage to the door, lookeddown the long white corridor with its open doors and cheerful voices, saw a pair of stairs to the right quite near by, and with his steadyinghands on the cool white wall slid along the short space to the topstep. It seemed an undertaking to get down that first step, but whenthat was accomplished he was out of sight and he sat down and slidslowly the rest of the way, wondering why he felt so rotten. 

At the foot of the long stairs there was a door, and strange it wasmade so heavy! He wondered a nurse could swing it open, just a meregirl! But he managed it at last, almost winded, and stumbled out on theportico that gave to the sea, a wide blue stretch before him. Hestopped, startled, as if he had unexpectedly sighted the heavenlystrand, and gazed blinking at the stretch of blue with the wide whiteshore and the boom of an organ following the lapping of each whitecrested wave. Those palm trees certainly made it look queer like Saxy'sPilgrim's Progress picture book. Then the panic for home and hisbusiness came upon him and he slid weakly down the shallow white steps, and crunched his white feet on the gravel wincing. He had just taken tothe grass at the edge and was managing better than he had hoped when aneat little coupe rounded the curve of the drive, and his favoritedoctor came swinging up to the steps, eyeing him keenly. Billy startedto run, and fell in a crumpled heap, white and scared and crying realtears, weak, pink tears!

"Why Billy! What are you doing here?" The stern loving voice of hisfavorite doctor hung over him like a knife that was going to cut himoff forever from life and light and forgiveness and all that he counteddear. 

But Billy stopped crying. 

"Nothin, " he said, "I just come out fer a walk!"

The doctor smiled. 

"But I didn't tell you you might, Billy boy!"

"Had to, " said Billy. 

"Well, you'll find you'll have to go back again, Billy. Come!" and thedoctor stooped his broad strong shoulders to pick up the boy. But Billybeat him off weakly:

"Say, now, Doc, wait a minute, " he pleaded, "It's jus' this way. Isimply _gotta_ get back home t'day. I'm a very 'mportant witnessin a murder case, See? My bes' friend in the world is bein' tried ferlife, an' he ain't guilty, an' I'm the only one that knows it fer sure, an' can prove it, an' I gotta be there. Why, Doc, the trial's _goingon now_ an' I ain't there! It ud drive me crazy to go back an' layin that soft bed like a reg'lar sissy, an' know he's going to becondemned. I put it to you, Doc, as man to man, would you stand fer athing like that?"

"But Billy, suppose it should be the end of you!"

"I sh'd worry, Doc! Ef I c'n get there in time an' say what I want Iain't carin' fer anythin' more in life I tell ye. Say, Doc, youwouldn't stop me, would ya? Ef you did I'd get thar anyhow_someway!_"

The earnestness of the eager young face, wan in its illness, the lightof love in the big gray eyes, went to the doctor's heart. He gave theboy a troubled look. 

"Where is it you want to go, Billy?"

"Economy, Doc. It ain't far, only two or three hours' ride. I c'n get ajitney somewheres I guess ta take me. I'll pay up ez soon as I gethome. I got thirty dollars in the bank my own self. "

"Economy!" said the Doctor. "Impossible, Billy, it would kill you--!"

"Then I'm goin' anyhow. Good-by Doc!" and he darted away from theastonished doctor and ran a rod or so before the doctor caught up withhim and seized him firmly by his well shoulder:

"Billy, look here!" said the Doctor, "If it's as bad as that I'll takeyou!"

"Oh, would ya, Doc? Would ya? I'll never forget it Doc--!"

"There now, Billy, never mind, son, you save your strength and let memanage this thing the right way. Couldn't I telephone and have themhold up things a few days? That can be done you know. "

"Nothin' doing Doc, there's them that would hurry it up all the more ifthey thought I was comin' back. You get in Doc and start her up. I c'ndrive myself if you'll lend me the m'chine. P'raps you ain't got timeto go off 'ith me like this. "

"That's all right, Billy. You and I are going on a little excursion. 'But first I've got to tell the nurse, or there'll be all kinds of atime. Here, you sit in the machine. " The doctor picked him up and puthim in and ran up the steps. Billy sat dizzily watching and wonderingif he hadn't better make his escape. Perhaps the Doc was just foolinghim, but in a moment back he came again, with a nurse trailing behindwith blankets and a bottle. 

"We're going to get another car, son, this one's no good for such atrip. We'll fix it so you can lie down and save your strength for whenyou get there. No, --son--I don't mean the ambulance, " as he saw thealarm in Billy's face, "just a nice big car. That's all right, here shecomes!"

The big touring car came round from the back almost immediately, andthe back seat was heaped with pillows and blankets and Billy tenderlyplaced among them where he was glad enough to lie down--and close hiseyes. It had been rather strenuous. The nurse went back for his shoes, bringing a bottle of milk and his medicine. The Doctor got in the frontseat and started. 

"Now, son, " he said, "You rest. You'll need every, bit of strength whenyou get there if we're going to carry this thing through. You justleave this thing to me and I'll get you there in plenty of time. Don'tyou worry. "

Billy with a smile of heavenly bliss over his newly bleached frecklessettled back with dreamy eyes and watched the sea as they were passingswiftly by it, his lashes drooping lower and lower over his thin youngcheeks. The doctor glancing back anxiously caught that look the motherssee in the young imps when they are asleep, and a tenderness came intohis heart for the staunch loyal little sinner. 

Doctor Norris was a good scout. If he had got a soft snap of a job inthat Shafton hospital, it was good practice of course, and a step toreally big things where he wouldn't be dependent upon rich people'swhims, but still he was a good scout. He had not forgotten the days ofthe grasshopper, and Billy had made a great appeal to his heart. Helooked at his watch, chose his roads, and put his machine at highspeed. The sea receded, the Jersey pines whirled monotonously by, andby and by the hills began to crop up. Off against the horizon Starkmountain loomed, veiled, with a purple haze, and around another curveEconomy appeared, startlingly out of place with its smug red brickwalks and its gingerbread porches and plastered tile bungalows. Thenwithout warning Billy sat up. How long had that young scamp been awake?Had he slept at all? He was like a man, grave and stern with businessbefore him. The doctor almost felt shy about giving him his medicine. 

"Son, you must drink that milk, " he said firmly. "Nothing doing unlessyou drink that!" Billy drank it. 

"Now where?" asked the doctor as they entered the straggling dirtylittle town. 

"That red brick building down the next block, " pointed Billy, his facewhite with excitement, his eyes burning like two dark blue coals. 

The big car drew up at the curb, and no one there to notice, for everybody was inside. The place was jammed to the door. 

Cherry had come back late after lunch, her hat awry and signs of tearson her painted face. Her eyes were more obviously frightened and shewhispered a message which was taken up to Mark. Mark lifted a haggardface to hear it, asked a question, bowed his head, and continuedlistening to the cross-examination of a man who said he had heard himthreaten to kill Dolph the week before the murder down at Hagg's Mills. When the witness was dismissed Mark whispered a word to his lawyer, thelawyer spoke to the judge and the judge announced that the prisonerwished to speak. Every eye was turned toward Mark as he rose and gave asweeping glance around the room, his eyes lingering for just a shadowof an instant wistfully on the faces of the minister and his wife, thenon again as if they had seen no one, and round to the judge's face. 

It was just at this instant that Billy burst into the room and wedgedhis way fiercely between elbows, using his old football methods, headdown and elbows out, and stood a moment breathless, taking it all in. 

Then Mark spoke:

"Your Honor, I wish to plead guilty to the charge!"

A great sigh like a sob broke over the hush in the court room and manypeople half rose to their feet as if in protest, but Billy made a diveup the aisle, self and sickness forgotten, regardless of courts or lawor anything, and stood between the Judge and Mark:

"It ain't so, an' I can prove it!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. 

The prosecuting attorney rose to a point of order like a bull dogsnapping at his prey, the sergeant-at-arms rushed around like cornpopping off in a corn popper, but Anthony Drew whispered a word to theJudge, and after order was restored Billy was called to the witnessstand to tell his story. 

Doctor Norris standing squeezed at the back of the room looking for hisquondam patient, recognized with a thrill the new Billy standingunafraid before all these people and speaking out his story in a cleardirect way. Billy had etherealized during his illness. If Aunt Saxonhad been there--she was washing for Gibsons that day and having hertroubles with Mrs. Frost--she would scarcely have known him. Hisfeatures had grown delicate and there was something strong and sweetabout his mouth that surely never had been there before. But the sameold forceful boy speech wherewith he had subdued enemies on theathletic fields, bullied Aunt Saxon, and put one over on Pat at thestation, was still his own. He told the truth briefly and to the point, not omitting his own wrong doing in every particular, and he swayedthat crowd as a great orator might have been proud to sway acongregation. They laughed till they cried and cried till they laughedagain at Billy's quaint phrases, and they enjoyed the detour--Oh howthey enjoyed that detour! Even the Judge had twinkles in his eyes. 

For the first time since the trial began Mark was sitting up proudly, awarm look of vivid interest in his face, the cold mask gone. His eyesdwelt upon Billy with a look almost fatherly, at least brotherly. Itwas a startling contrast to what he had been all day. This was adifferent man. 

Suddenly from the corner of the prosecution the low growl which hadbeen gradually rising like a young storm, broke, and the prosecutingattorney arose and lifted his voice above all others:

"I protest your Honor, against this witness. He has mentioned no lessthan five different lies which he has told, and has narrated a numberof episodes in which he deliberately broke the law. Is it or is it nota misdemeanor for anyone to meddle with our Highroads in the mannerthat has just been described? By his own confession this young man isdisqualified for a witness! By his own confession he is a law breakerand a liar!"

"Aw Gee!" broke forth Billy furiously, "Didn't I tell ya I come here totell the truth n' get it off'n my chest?"

Someone put a strong hand on Billy and silenced him, and some one elserose to protest against the protestor, and the air grew tense withexcitement once more. 

The prosecution declared that Billy was in league with Mark, thateverybody knew he trailed him everywhere, therefore his testimony wasworthless. He was probably bribed; there was nothing, absolutelynothing in the story the boy had told to prove anything. 

Billy was growing whiter and angrier, his eyes flashing, his fistsclenched. His testimony was not going to be accepted after all! It hadbeen vain to bear the shame himself. Nothing, _nothing_ that hecould do would blot out the trouble because he had unfitted himself toblot it out. It had to be a witness who told the truth who would bebelieved. It had to be one with a good record to take away the shame!That was something like what Miss Marilyn said in Sunday School once, that only Jesus Christ could take the place of a sinner and make itright about our sinning because He had never sinned. It had soundedlike rot when she said it, but he began to understand what she meantnow. Yes, that was it. Only God's Son could do that and he, BillyGaston, had tried to do it himself!

The court room seemed to be very dark now. His head was whirling awayand getting beyond his control. When he looked up he seemed to see iton the other side of the room. He did not recognize the two men inhandcuffs that the Chief was bringing into the room. He did not hearwhat the Judge was saying. He had slumped in a little heap on thewitness stand with his eyes closed, and his hands groping together. Hethought that he was praying to God's Son to come and help Mark becausehe had failed. _He_ wasn't good enough and he _had failed!_

The doctor had come with a bound up the aisle and was kneeling withBilly in his arms. Mark was leaning over the rail with a white anxiousface. The minister was trying to make a way through the crowd, and thesergeant-at-arms was pushing the crowd back, and making a space aboutthe unconscious boy. Some-one opened a window. The Chief and one of hismen brought a cot. There was a pillow from the car, and there was thatmedicine again--bringing him back--just as he thought he had made Godhear--! Oh, _why_ did they bother him?

Suddenly down by the door a diversion occurred. Someone had enteredwith wild burning eyes dressed in a curious assortment of garments. They were trying to put him out, but he persisted. 

The word was brought up: "Someone has a very important piece ofevidence which he wishes to present. "

Billy's gray eyes opened as the man mounted to the witness stand. Hewas lying on the cot at one side and his gaze rested on the newwitness, dazedly at first, and then with growing comprehension. Old IkeFenner, the tailor, Cherry Fenner's father!

Mark was looking at Billy and had not noticed:

But the man began to speak in a high shrill voice:

"I came to say that I'm the man that killed Dolph Haskins! Mark Carterhad nothin' to do with it. I done it! I _meant_ to kill himbecause he ruined the life of my little girl! _My baby!_"

There was a sudden catch in his voice like a great sob, and he clutchedat the rail as if he were going to fall, but he went on, his eyesburning like coals:

"I shot him with Tom Petrie's gun that I found atop o' the door, an' Iput it back where I found it. You take my finger prints and compare 'emwith the marks on the gun an' the winder sill. You ask Sandy Robison!He seen me do it. You ask Cherry! She seen me too. She was facin' thewinder eatin' her supper with that devil, and I shot him and she seenme! _I_ did it--"

His voice trailed off. He swayed and got down from the stand, gropinghis way as if he could not see. The crowd gave way with a curiousshudder looking into his wild burning eyes as he passed. A girl'sscream back by the door rang through the court. The man moaned, put outhis hands and fell forward. Kindly hands reached to catch him. Thedoctor left Billy and came to help. 

They carried him outside and laid him on the grass in front of thecourt house. The doctor used every restorative he had with him. Menhurried to the drug store. They tried everything, but all to no avail. Ike Fenner the tailor was dead! He had gone to stand before a highercourt!

When it was all over, the finger prints and the red tape, and the casehad been dismissed, Mark came to Billy where he was lying in the bigcar waiting, with his eyes closed to keep back weak tears that wouldslip out now and then. He knelt beside the boy and touched his hand, the hand that looked so thin and weak and so little like Billy's:

"Kid, " he said gently, "Kid, you've been a wonder! It was really youthat saved me, Buddy! _My Buddy!"_

Billy's tears welled over at the tone, the words, the proud intimatename, but he shook his head slowly, sadly. 

"No, " he said, "No, it wasn't me. I tried, but I wasn't fit! It had tobe _Him_. I didn't understand! They wouldn't believe me. But_He_ came as soon as I ast!"

Mark looked at the doctor. 

"Is he wandering a little?" he asked in a low tone:

"I shouldn't wonder. He's been through enough to make anyone wander. Here, son, take this. "

Billy smiled and obediently accepted his medicine. Mark held his handall the way home. He knew that Mark didn't understand but he was tootired to tell him now. Sometime he would explain. Or perhaps Miss Lynnwould explain it for him. He was going home, home to Saxy and SabbathValley and the bells, and Mark was free! He hadn't saved him, but Markwas free!

It was like a royal passage through the village as they came intoSabbath Valley, for everybody came out to wave at Mark and Billy. EvenMrs. Harricutt watched grimly from behind her Holland shades. But Billywas too weak to notice much, except to sense it distantly, and Markwould only lift his hat and bow, gravely, quietly as if it didn'tmatter, just as he used to do when they carried him round on theirshoulders after a football game, and he tried to get down and hide. Whydid Mark still have that sad look in his eyes? Billy was too tired tothink it out. He was glad when they reached Aunt Saxon's door and Markpicked him up as he used to do when he was just a little kid, andcarried him up to his room. Carried him up and undressed him, whileSaxy heard the story from the doctor's lips, and laughed and cried andlaughed again. The nervy little kid! He would always be a "little kid"to Saxy, no matter what he did. 

He turned over in his own bed, _his bed_, and smelt the sweetbreath of the honeysuckle coming in at the window, heard the thrushessinging their evening song up the street. The sea had been great, butOh, you Sabbath Valley! Out there was the water spout, and some day hewould be strong enough to shin down it, and up it again. He would playfootball this Fall, and run Mark's car! Mark, grave, gentle, quiet, sitting beside him till he got asleep, and his mother not knowing, downthe street, and Miss Lynn--!

"Mark--you'll tell Miss Marilyn about it all?" He opened his eyes tomurmur lazily, and Mark promised still gravely. 

He shut his eyes and drifted away. What was that the Chief had told himdown at Economy in the car? Something about three strange detectivesstepping off the train one day and nabbing Pat? And Pat was up at SingSing finishing his term after A. W. O. L. Was that straight or only adream? And anyhow he didn't care. He was home again, Home--_andforgiven!_

Night settled sweetly down upon Sabbath Valley, hiding the brilliantautumn tinting of the street. Lynn had made a maple nut cake and setthe table for two before she left the Carters, for her mother hadslipped out of the court room and telephoned her, and a fire wasblazing in the little parlor with the lace curtains and asters in everyvase all gala for the returning son. The mother and son sat long beforethe fire, talking, pleasant converse, about the time when Mark wouldsend for her to come and live with him, but not a word was said aboutthe day. He saw that his friends had helped to save his mother this onegreat sorrow that she could not have borne, and he was grateful. 

Marilyn, up at the parsonage, with a great thankfulness upon her, wentabout with smiling face. The burden seemed to have lifted and she wasglad. 

But that night at midnight there came the doctor from Economy drivinghard and stopping at the parsonage. Cherry Fenner was dying and wantedto see Miss Marilyn. Would she come?

XXVII

Cherry's little bedroom under the roof was bright with the confusion ofcheap finery scattered everywhere and swept aside at the suddenentrance of the death angel. A neighbor had done her best to push awaythe crude implements of complexion that were littering the cheap oakbureau top, and the doctor's case and bottles and glasses crowded outthe giddy little accessories of beauty that Cherry had collected. Twochairs piled high with draggled finery, soiled work aprons and dressesmade a forlorn and miscellaneous disorder in one corner, and the closetdoor sagged open with visions of more clothing hung many deep upon thefew hooks. 

Mrs. Fenner stood at the head of the bed wringing her hands and moaninguncontrolledly, and Cherry, little Cherry, lay whitely against thepillow, the color all gone from her ghastly pretty little face, thathad lately hid its ravished health and beauty behind a camouflage ofpaint. There were deep dark circles under the limpid eyes that now werefull of mortal pain, and pitiful lines around the cherry mouth that hadbeen wont to laugh so saucily. 

The doctor stood by the window with the attitude of grave waiting. Thehelpful neighbor lingered in the doorway, holding her elbows and takingminute note of Marilyn's dress. This might be a sad time, but one hadto live afterward, and it wasn't every day you got to see a simplelittle frock with an air like the one the minister's daughter wore. Shestudied it from neck to hem and couldn't see what in the world therewas about it anyway to make her look so dressed up. Not a scratch oftrimming, not even a collar, and yet she could look like that!

Mercy! Was that what education and going to college did for folks?

The light of a single unshaded electric bulb shone startlingly down tothe bed, making plain the shadow of death even to an inexperienced eye. 

Marilyn knelt beside the bed and took Cherry's cold little hand in herown warm one. The waxen eyelids fluttered open, and a dart of somethingbetween fright and pain went over her weird little face. 

"Can I do anything for you Cherry?" Marilyn's voice was tender, pitiful. 

"It's _too late_, " whispered the girl in a fierce little whisper, "Send 'em out--I--wantta--tell--you--someth--!" The voice trailed awayweakly. The doctor stepped over and gave her a spoonful of something, motioned her mother and the neighbor away, tiptoeing out himself andclosing the door. The mother was sobbing wildly. The doctor's voicecould be heard quieting her coldly:

The girl on the bed frowned and gathered effort to speak:

"Mark Carter--didn't mean no harm--goin'--with me--!" she broke out, her breath coming in gasps, "He was tryin'--to stop me--goin'--with--_Dolph--!_" The eyes closed wearily. The lips were white as chalk. She seemed to have stopped breathing!

"It's all right--Cherry--" Marilyn breathed softly, "It's all right--Iunderstand! Don't think any more about it!"

The eyes opened fiercely again, a faint determination shadowed roundthe little mouth:

"You gotta know--!" she broke forth again with effort. "He was good tome--when I was a little kid, and when he found I was in trouble--" thebreath came pitifully in gasps--"he--offered--to--_marry me!_"

Marilyn's fingers trembled but she held the little cold hand warmly andtried to keep back the tears that trembled in her eyes. 

"He--didn't--_want to_--! He--just--_done it to be kind!_ ButI--couldn't--see--it--! That's--what--we--_argued--!_" Her voicegrew fainter again. Marilyn with gentle controlled voice pressed thelittle cold hand again:

"Never mind, Cherry dear--it's all right!"

Cherry's eyes opened with renewed effort, anxiously:

"You won't--blame--Mark--? He never--did--nothin'--wrong--!" He's--_your_--friend!"

"No, Cherry! It's all right!"

The girl seemed to have lost consciousness again, and Marilyn wonderedif she ought not to call the doctor, but suddenly Cherry screamed out:

"There he is again! He's _come for me!_ Oh--I'm--a--gon' ta--_die!_ An' I'm _afrrrr-aid!"_

Cherry clutched at Marilyn's arm, and looked up with far off gaze inwhich terror seemed frozen. 

The minister's daughter leaned farther over and gathered the fragileform of the sick girl in her arms tenderly, speaking in a soothingvoice:

"Listen Cherry. Don't be afraid. Jesus is here. He'll go with you!"

"But I'm afraid of Jesus!" the sharp little voice pierced out with ashudder, "I haven't been--_good!"_

"Then tell Him you are sorry. You _are_ sorry, aren't you?"

"Oh, _yes!"_ the weak voice moaned. "I--never--_meant_--no--harm! I only--wanted--a little--good time--!"

The eyes had closed again and she was almost gone. The doctor had comein and he now gave her another spoonful of medicine. Marilyn knew thetime was short. 

"Listen, Cherry, say these words after me!" Cherry's eyes opened againand fastened on her face, eagerly:

"Jesus, I'm sorry--!"

"Jesus--I'm--sor-ry--!" repeated the weak voice in almost a whisper. 

"Please forgive me, " said Marilyn slowly, distinctly. 

"Please--for--give--!" the slow voice repeated. 

"And save me. "

"--save--!" the voice was scarcely audible. 

The doctor came and stood close by the bed, looking down keenly, butCherry roused once more and looked at them, her sharp little voicestabbing out into the silence piercingly, "Is that--_all?_"

"That is all, " said Marilyn with a ring in her voice, "Jesus died totake care of all the rest! You can just rest on Him!"

"_Oh-h!_" The agony went out of the pinched little face, a halfsmile dawned and she sank into rest. 

As Marilyn went home in the dawn with the morning star beginning topale, and the birds at their early worship, something in her own heartwas singing too. Above the feeling of awe over standing at the brink ofthe river and seeing a little soul go wavering out, above even thewonder that she had been called to point the way, there sang in hersoul a song of jubilation that Mark was exonerated from shame anddisgrace. Whatever others thought, whatever she personally would alwayshave believed, it still was great that God had given her this to makeher know that her inner vision about it had been right. Perhaps, sometime, in the days that were to come, Mark would tell her about it, but there was time enough for that. Mark would perhaps come to see herthis morning. She somehow felt sure that at least he would come to sayhe was glad she had stayed with his mother. It was like Mark to dothat. He never let any little thing that was done for him or his passunnoticed. 

But the morning passed and Mark did not come. The only place that Markwent was to see Billy. 

"Billy, old man, " he said, sitting down by the edge of the bed whereBilly was drowsing the early morning away, just feeling the bed, andsensing Saxy down there making chicken broth, and knowing that theyoung robins in the apple tree under the window were grown up and flownaway. "Billy, I can't keep my promise to you after all. I've got to goaway. Sorry, kid, but she'll come to see you and I want you to tell herfor me all about it. I'm not forgetting it, Kid, either, and you'llknow, all the rest of my life, _you and I are buddies!_ Savvy, Kid?"

Billy looked at Mark with big understanding eyes. There was sadness andhunger and great self control in that still white face that heworshipped so devotedly. All was not well with his hero yet. It came tohim vaguely that perhaps Mark too had even yet something to learn, thekind of thing that was only learned by going through fire. He struggledfor words to express himself, but all he could find were:

"I say, Mark, why'n't'tya get it off'n yer chest? It's _great!_"

Perhaps there wouldn't have been another human in Sabbath Valley, except perhaps it might have been Marilyn who would have understoodthat by this low growled suggestion Billy was offering confession ofsin as a remedy for his friend's ailment of soul, but Mark looked athim keenly, almost tenderly for a long minute, and shook his head, hisface taking on a grayer, more hopeless look as he said:

"I can't, Kid. It's _too late!_"

Billy closed his eyes for a moment. He felt it wasn't quite square tosee into his friend's soul that way when he was off his guard, but heunderstood. He had passed that way himself. It came to him that nothinghe could say would make any difference. He would have liked to tell ofhis own experience in the court room and how he had suddenly known thatall his efforts to right his wrong had been failures, that there wasonly One who could do it, but there were no words in a boy's vocabularyto say a thing like that. It sounded unreal. It had to be _felt_, and he found his heart kept saying over and over as he lay therewaiting with closed eyes for Mark to speak: "Oh, God! Why'n'tchoo showhim Yerself? Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself?" He wondered if Miss Lynncouldn't have shown Mark if he had only gone and talked it over withher. But Mark said it was too late, "Well, Why'n'tchoo show himYerself, then? Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself, God, --_please!_"

Mark got up with a long sigh:

"Well, s'long, Kid, till I see you again. And I won't forget Kid, youknow I won't forget! And Kid, I'm leaving my gun with you. I knowyou'll take good care of it and not let it do any damage. You mightneed it you know to take care of your Aunt, or--or--Miss Severn--or!"

"Sure!" said Billy with shining eyes clasping the weapon that had beenMark's proud possession for several years. "Aw Gee! Ya hadn't oughttagive me this! You might need it yourself. "

"No, Kid, I'd rather feel that you have it. I want to leave someonehere to kind of take my place--watching--you know. There'll betimes--!"

"Sure!" said Billy, a kind of glory overspreading his thin eager face. "_Aw Gee!_ Mark!"

And long after Mark had gone, and the sound of his purring engine haddied away in the distance, Billy lay back with the weapon clasped tohis heart, and a weird kind of rhythm repeating itself over and oversomewhere in his spirit: "Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself, God?Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself? You will! I'll bet You _will_! yet!"

And was that anything like the prayer of faith translated intotheological language?

Aunt Saxon went up tiptoe with the broth and thought he was asleep andtiptoed down again to keep it warm awhile. But Billy lay there and feltlike Elisha after the mantle of the prophet Elijah had fallen upon him. It gave him a grand solemn feeling, God and he were somehow takingMark's place till Mark got ready to come back and do it himself. He wasto take care of Sabbath Valley as far as in him lay, but moreparticularly of Miss Marilyn Severn. 

And then suddenly, without warning, Miss Marilyn herself went away, toNew York she said, for a few weeks, she wasn't sure just how long. Butthere was something sad in her voice as she said it, and somethingwhite about the look she wore that made him sure she was not going tothe part of New York where Mark Carter lived. 

Billy accepted it with a sigh. Things were getting pretty dry aroundSabbath Valley for him. He didn't seem to get his pep back as fast ashe had expected. For one thing he worried a good deal, and for anotherthe doctor wouldn't let him play baseball nor ride a bicycle yet forquite a while. He had to go around and act just like a "gurrull!" AwGee! Sometimes he was even glad to have Mary Little come across thestreet with her picture puzzles and stay with him awhile. She was realgood company. He hadn't ever dreamed before that girls could be asinteresting. Of course, Miss Marilyn had to be a girl once, but thenshe was Miss Marilyn. That was different. 

Then too, Billy hadn't quite forgotten that first morning that Saxy gother arms around him and cried over him glad tears, bright sweet tearsthat wet his face and made him feel like crying happy tears too. Andthe sudden surprising desire he felt to hug her with his well arm, andhow she fell over on the bed and got to laughing because he pulled herhair down in his awkwardness, and pulled her collar crooked. Aw Gee!She was just Aunt Saxy and he had been rotten to her a lot of times. But now it was different. Somehow Saxy and he were more pals, or was itthat he was the man now taking care of Saxy and not the little boybeing taken care of himself? Somehow during those weeks he had beengone Saxy had cried out the pink tears, and was growing smiles, andhome was "kinda nice" after all. But he missed the bells. And nightsbefore he got into bed he got to kneeling down regularly, and sayingsoftly inside his heart: "Aw Gee, God, please why'n'tcha make Markunderstand, an' why'n'tcha bring 'em both home?"

XXVIII

Marilyn had not been in New York but a week before she met Opal. Shewas waiting to cross Fifth Avenue, and someone leaned out of a biglimousine that paused for the congestion in traffic and cried:

"Why, if that isn't Miss Severn from Sabbath Valley. Get in please, Iwant to see you. "

And Lynn, much against her will, was persuaded to get in, more becauseshe was holding up traffic than because the woman in the limousineinsisted:

"I'll take you where you want to go, " she said in answer to Lynn'sprotests, and they rolled away up the great avenue with the movingthrong. 

"I'm dying to know what it is you're making Laurie Shafton do, " saidOpal eagerly, "I never saw him so much interested in anything in mylife. Or is it you he's interested in. Why, he can't talk of anythingelse, and he's almost stopped going to the Club or any of the houseparties. Everybody thinks he's perfectly crazy. He won't drink any moreeither. He's made himself quite _notorious_. I believe I heardsome one say the other day they hadn't even seen him smoking for awhole week. You certainly are a wonder. "

"You're quite mistaken, " said Lynn, much amused, "I had nothing to dowith Mr. Shafton's present interest, except as I happened to be the oneto introduce him to it. I haven't seen him but twice since I came toNew York, and then only to take him around among my babies at theSettlement and once over to the Orphans' Home, where I've been helpingout while an old friend of mine with whom I worked in France is awaywith her sick sister. "

"For mercy's sake! You don't mean that Laurie consented to go among thepoor? I heard he'd given a lot of money to fix up some buildings, butthen all the best men are doing things like that now. It's quite thefad. But to go himself and see the wretched little things, Ugh! I don'tsee how he could. He must be quite crazy about you I'm sure if he didall that for you. "

"Oh, he seemed to want to see them, " said Lynn lightly, "and hesuggested many of the improvements that he is making himself. They tellme he has proved a great helper, he is on hand at all hourssuperintending the building himself, and everybody is delighted withhim--!"

"Mmmm!" commented Opal looking at Marilyn through the fringes of hereyes. "You really are a wonder. And now that you are in New York I'mgoing to introduce you to our crowd. When can you come? Let's see. To-morrow is Sunday. Will you spend the evening with me to-morrow?I'll certainly show you a good time. We're going to motor to--"

But Lynn was shaking her head decidedly:

"I couldn't possibly spare a minute, thank you. I'm only out on anerrand now. I'm needed every instant at the Home!"

"For mercy sake! Hire someone to take your place then. I want you. You'll be quite a sensation I assure you. Don't worry about clothes, ifyou haven't anything along. You can wear one of my evening dresses. We're almost of a size. "

"No, " said Lynn smiling, "It simply isn't possible. And anyway, don'tyou remember Sabbath Valley? I don't go out to play Sunday nights youknow. "

"Oh, but this is New York! You can't bring Sabbath Valley notions intoNew York. "

Lynn smiled again:

"You can if they are a part of you, " she said, "Come in and see hownicely I'm fixed. "

Opal looked up at the beautiful building before which they werestopping. 

"Why, where is this?" she asked astonished, "I thought you were down inthe slums somewhere. "

"This is a Home for little orphan children kept up by the SalvationArmy. Come in a minute and see it. "

Following a whim of curiosity Opal came in, and was led down a longhall to a great room where were a hundred tiny children sitting onlittle chairs in a big circle playing kindergarten games. The childrenwere dressed in neat pretty frocks such as any beloved children wouldwear, with bright hair ribbons and neckties, and each with anindividuality of its own. The room was sunny and bright, with a greatplayhouse at one end, with real windows and furniture in it and allsorts of toboggan slides and swings and kiddy cars and everything todelight the soul of a child. On a wide space between two windowspainted on the plaster in soft wonderful coloring blended into the graytint of the wall, there glowed a life size painting of the Christsurrounded by little children, climbing upon His knees and listening toHim as He smiled and talked to them. 

Opal paused in the doorway and looked at the picture first, shyly, shamedly, as though it were no place for her to enter, then curiouslyat the little children, with a kind of wistful yearning, as if herewere something she had missed of her own fault. Lynn called out acharming baby and made her shake hands and bow and say a few listingsmiling words. Opal turned to Lynn with a strangely subdued look andspoke in a moved tone:

"I guess you're right, " she said, "You wouldn't fit at my company. You're different! But some day I'm coming after you and bring you homeall by yourself for a little while. I want to find out what it is youhave that I need. "

Then she turned with swift steps and went down the hall and out thedoor to her waiting limousine, and Lynn smiled wonderingly as she sawher whirled away into the world again. 

Lynn had not seen Mark. 

Laurie Shafton had called upon her many times since those two tripsthey had taken around the settlements and looking over his condemnedproperty, but she had been busy, or out somewhere on her errands ofmercy, so that Laurie had got very little satisfaction for his trouble. 

But Mark had seen Lynn once, just once, and that the first time she hadgone with Laurie Shafton, as they were getting out of his car in frontof one of his buildings. Mark had slipped into a doorway out of sightand watched them, and after they passed into the building had gone on, his face whiter and sadder than before. That was all. 

Marilyn was to spend only a month in New York, as at first planned, butthe month lengthened into six weeks before the friend whose place shewas taking was able to return, and two days before Marilyn wasexpecting to start home there came a telephone message from her mother:

"Lynn, dear, Mrs. Carter is very low, dying, we think, and we must findMark at once! There is not a minute to lose if he wants to see heralive. It is a serious condition brought on by excitement. Mrs. Harricutt went there to call yesterday while everybody else was atLadies' Aid. And Lynn, _she told her about Mark!_ Now, Lynn, canyou get somebody to go with you and find Mark right away? Get him tocome home at once? Here is the last address he gave, but they have notelephone and we dare not wait for a telegram. See what you can doquickly!"

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when this message came. Lynn puton a uniform of dark blue serge and a poke bonnet that was at herdisposal whenever she had need of protection, and hurried out. 

She found the address after some trouble, but was told that the younggentleman was out. No one seemed to know when he would return. 

Two or three other lodgers gathered curiously, one suggesting arestaurant where he might be found, another a club where he sometimeswent and a third laughed and called out from half way up the stairs:

"You'll find him at the cabaret around the corner by ten o'clockto-night if you don't find him sooner. He's always there when he'sin town. "

Sick at heart Lynn went on her way, trying carefully each place thathad been suggested but finding no trace of him. She met with onlydeference for her uniform wherever she went, and without the slightestfear she travelled through streets at night that she would scarcelyhave liked to pass alone in the daytime in her ordinary garb. But allthe time her heart was praying that she might find Mark before it wastoo late. She tried every little clue that was given her, hopingagainst hope that she would not have to search for her old friend in acabaret such as she knew that place around the corner must be. But itwas almost ten o'clock and she had not found Mark. She went back to thefirst address once more, but he had not come, and so she finally turnedher steps toward the cabaret. 

Sadly, with her heart beating wildly, hoping, yet fearing to find him, she paused just inside the doors and looked around, trying to get usedto the glare and blare, the jazz and the smoke, and the strange laxgarb, and to differentiate the individuals from the crowd. 

Food and drink, smoke and song, wine and dance, flesh and odd perfumes!Her soul sank within her, and she turned bewildered to a servitor atthe door. 

"I wonder, is there any way to find a special person here? I have avery important message. "

The man bent his head deferentially as though to one from anotherworld, "Who did you want, Miss?"

"Mr. Mark Carter, " said Marilyn, feeling the color rise in her cheeksat letting even this waiter see that she expected to find Mark Carterhere. 

The man looked up puzzled. He was rather new at the place. He summonedanother passing one of his kind:

"Carter, Carter?" the man said thoughtfully, "Oh, yes, he's the guythat never drinks! He's over there at the table in the far corner withthe little dancer lady--" The waiter pointed and Lynn looked, "Wouldyou like me to call him, Miss?" Lynn reflected quickly. Perhaps hemight try to evade her. She must run no risks. 

"Thank you, I will go to him, " she said, and straight through the mazeof candle lighted tables, and whirling dancers, in her quiet holy garb, she threaded her way hastily, as one might have walked over quicksands, with her eye fixed upon Mark. 

She came and stood beside him before he looked up and saw her, and thenhe lifted his eyes from the face of the girl with whom he was talking, and rose suddenly to his feet, his face gone white as death, his eyesdark with disapproval and humiliation. 

"Marilyn!" His voice was shaking. He knew her instantly in spite ofpoke bonnet and uniform. She was the one thought present with him allthe while, perhaps for years wherever he had been. But he did not lookglad to see her. Instead it was as if his soul shrank shamedly from herclear eyes as she looked at him:

Marilyn had not known what she was going to say to him when she foundhim. She did not stop to think now. 

"Mark, your mother wants you. She is dying! You must come quick or shewill be gone!"

Afterwards she repeated over the words to herself again and again asone might do penance, blaming herself that she had not softened it, made it more easy for him to bear. Yet at the time it seemed the onlything there was to say, at such a time, in such a place. But at thestricken look upon his face her heart grew tender. "Come, " she saidcompassionately, "We will go!"

They went out into the night and it was as if they had suddenly changedplaces, as if she were the protector and he the led. She guided him thequickest way. There was only a chance that they might catch themidnight train, but there was that chance. Into the subway she dived, he following, and breathless, they brought up at the Pennsylvaniastation at their train gate as it was being closed, and hurriedthrough. 

All through that agonized night they spoke but few words, those two whohad been so much to one another through long happy years. 

"But you are not going too?" he spoke suddenly roused from his daze asthe train started. 

"Yes, I am going too, of course, Mark, " she said. 

He bowed his head and almost groaned:

"I am not worthy, --Marilyn!"

"That--has nothing to do with it!" said Marilyn sadly, "It never willhave anything to do with it! It never did!"

Mark looked at her, with harrowed eyes, and dropped his gaze. So hesat, hour after hour, as the train rushed along through the night. AndMarilyn, with head slightly bent and meek face, beneath the poke bonnetwith its crimson band, was praying as she rode. Praying in other wordsthe prayer that Billy murmured beside his bed every night. 

But Billy was not lying in his bed that night, sleeping the sleep ofthe just. He was up and on the job. He was sitting in the Carterkitchen keeping up the fires, making a cup of tea for the nurse and thedoctor, running the endless little errands, up to the parsonage foranother hot water bag, down to the drug store for more aromatic spiritsof ammonia, fixing a newspaper shade to dull the light in the hall, andpraying, all the time praying: "Oh, God, ain'tcha gonta leave her staytill Mark gets here? Ain'tcha gonta send Mark quick? You know best I'spose, but ain'tcha _gonta?_" and then "Aw Gee! I wisht Miss Lynnwas here!"

In the chill before the dawning the two stepped down from the train ata little flag station three miles from Sabbath Valley on the upper roadthat ran along the Ridge. They had prevailed upon the conductor to letthem off there. Mark had roused enough for that. And now that they wereout in the open country he seemed to come to himself. He took care ofLynn, making her take his arm, guiding her into the smooth places, helping her over rough places. He asked a few questions too. How didshe know of his mother's condition? How long had she been this way? Hadshe any idea that his mother's heart was affected? Did she have ashock?

Lynn did not tell all she knew. It was hard enough without that. Heneed not know that it was the knowledge of his disgrace that hadbrought her to the brink of death. 

So, walking and talking almost as in the old days, they passed intoSabbath Valley and down the street, and Christie McMertrie listeningperhaps for this very thing, crept from her bed in her long flannelnight gown, and big ruffled night cap, and looked out the window to seethem go by. "Bless them!" she breathed and crept back to her bed again. She had nursed all day, and all the night before, and would have beenthere too to-night, only Mary Rafferty took things in her own hands andhad her go to bed, herself taking charge. Mrs. Duncannon was there too. There really was no need of her, but Christie could not sleep, andafter they passed she rose and dressed and slipped down the street witha hot porridge that had been cooking on the stove all night, and themakings of a good breakfast in her basket on her arm. 

Mark Carter reached home in time to take his mother in his arms and bidher good-bye. That was all She roused at his voice and touch, andreached out her little pretty hands toward him. He took her in his bigstrong arms and held her, kissed her with tender lips and she drew abeautiful smile of perfect content, and slipped away, with the grayinggolden hair straying out over Mark's sleeve to the pillow in a longcurl, and a quiver of her last smile on the pretty curve of her lips, as if this was all that she had waited for, the little pretty girl thathad gone to school so long ago with golden hair and a smile. Billy, standing awed in the doorway whither he had come to say there was morehot water ready, caught the vision of her face, remembered those schooldays, and felt a strange constriction in his throat. Some day Saxywould have to go like that, and would show the little girl in her facetoo, and he maybe would have to hold her so and think of how cross hehad been. Aw Gee! Whattaqueer thing life was anyhow! Well, hadn't hisprayer been answered? Didn't Mark get here in time? Well, anyhow it waslikely better for Mrs. Carter to go. But it was rotten for Mark. AwGee! _Mark_! Was _this_ the way he had to learn it? Aw Gee! Well, God would have to show him. _He_ couldn't dope it out anyhow. 

During the days that followed Mark hardly stirred from the side of thepretty little clay that had been his mother except when they forced himfor a little while. An hour before the service he knelt alone besidethe casket, and the door opened and Marilyn came softly in, closing itbehind her. She walked over to Mark and laid her hand on his hand thatrested over his mother's among the flowers, and she knelt beside himand spoke softly:

"Oh, God, help Mark to find the light!"

Then the soul of Mark Carter was shaken to the depths and suddenly hisself control which had been so great was broken. His strong shouldersbegan to shake with sobs, silent, hard sobs of a man who knows he hassinned, and tears, scalding tears from the depths of his self-containednature. 

Marilyn reached her arm out across his shoulders as a mother would tryto protect a child, and lifted her face against his, wet with tears andkissed him on his forehead. Then she left him and went quietly out. 

 * * * * *

"Well, " said Mrs. Harricutt with satisfaction as she walked home afterthe funeral with Christie McMertrie, "I'm glad to see that Mark Carterhas a little proper feeling at last. If he'd showed it sooner his Mamighta ben in the land of the living yet. "

Christie's stern face grew sterner as she set her teeth and bit hertongue before replying. Then she said with more brrrr than usual in herspeech:

"Martha Harricutt, there's na land that's sa livin' as tha land whereMark Carter's mither has ganged tae, but there's them that has mairblame to bear fer her gaein' than her bonny big son, I'm thinkin', an'there's them in this town that agrees with me too, I know full well. "

Down in front of the parsonage the minister had his arm around MarkCarter's shoulders and was urging him:

"Son, come in. We want you. Mother wants you, I want you. Marilyn wantsyou. Come son, come!"

But Mark steadily refused, his eyes downcast, his face sad, withdrawn:

"Mr. Severn, I'll come to-morrow. I can't come tonight. I must go homeand think!"

"And you will promise me you will not leave without coming, Mark?"asked the minister sadly when he saw that it was no use. 

"Yes, I will promise!" Mark wrung the minister's hand in a warm gripthat said many things he could not speak, and then he passed on to hislonely home. But it was not entirely empty. Billy was there, humbly, silently, with dog-true eyes, and a grown up patient look on his tiredyoung face. He had the coffee pot on the stove and hot sausages cookingon the stove, and a lot of Saxy's doughnuts and a pie on the table. Billy stayed all night with Mark. He knew Saxy would understand. 

XXIX

In the middle of the night the fire bell rang out wildly. Three minuteslater Mark and Billy were flying down the street, with Tom McMertrieand Jim Rafferty close after and a host of other tried and true, withthe minister on the other side of the street. The Fire Company ofSabbath Valley held a proud record, and the minister was an activemember of it. 

The fire was up in the plush mill and had already spread to a row ofshackley tenements that the owners of the mills had put up to house theforeign labor that they had put in. They called them "apartment"houses, but they were so much on the order of the city tenements ofseveral years back that it made Lynn's heart ache when she went thereto see a little sick child one day. Right in the midst of God's treesand mountains, a man _for money_ had built a death trap, tall, andgrim and dark, with small rooms and tiny windows, built it with timberstoo small for safety, and windows too few for ventilation, and here anincreasing number of families were herded, in spite of the complaintsof the town. 

"I ben thenkin' it would coom, " said Tom as he took long strides. "It'sthe apartmints fer sure, Jimmy. We better beat it. There'll be only ameenit er so to get the childer oot, before the whole thing's smoke!"

They were all there, the doctor, the blacksmith, the postmaster, themen from the mills, and the banks, and the stores. Economy heard thebells for Marilyn had hurried to the church and added the fire chime tothe call and came over with their little chemical engine. Monopolyheard and hurried their brand new hook and ladder up the valley road, but the fire had been eating long in the heart of the plush mill andlaughed at their puny streams of water forced up from the creek below, laughed at the chemicals flung in its face like drops of rain on asizzling red hot stove. It licked its lips over the edge of the cliffon which it was built, and cracked its jaws as it devoured the mill, window by window, section by section, leaping across with an angry redtongue to the first tall building by its side. 

The fire had worked cunningly, for it had crept out of sight to thelower floors all along the row, and unseen, unknown, had bitten a holdon each of those doomed buildings till when the men arrived it wentroaring ghoulishly up the high narrow stairs cutting off all escapefrom above, and making entrance below impossible. Up at the windows thedoomed people stood, crying, praying, wringing their hands, and somelosing their heads and trying to jump out. 

The firemen were brave, and worked wonders. They flung up ladders inthe face of the flames. They risked their lives every step they took, and brought out one after another, working steadily, grimly, rapidly. And none were braver among them all than Mark Carter and the minister, each working on the very top of a tall treacherous ladder, in the faceof constant danger, bringing out one after another until the last. 

The next house to the mill had caved in, and Mark had come down just intime with an old woman who was bedridden and had been forgotten. Theworkers had paused an instant as the horrible sound of falling timbersrent through the other noises of that horrible night, and then hurriedto increase their vigilance. There were people in the top floor of thenext house and it would go next. Then the word went forth that no moremust go up the ladder. The roof was about to fall in, and a youngmother shrieked, "My baby! My baby! She's up in the bed. I thought Bobhad her, but he couldn't get up!" Mark Carter looked at her sharply. "Which window?" he asked, and was up the ladder before detaining handscould reach him, and Billy, sliding under the arm of the Fire Chief, swung up just behind. 

The crowd watched breathless as they mounted round after round, AuntSaxon standing with a shawl over her head and gasping aloud, "Oh_Willie!_" and then standing still in fear and pride, the tearsstreaming down a smiling countenance on which the red glare of the fireshone. The ladder was set crazily against the flaming window and swayedwith their weight. Every step seemed as if it would topple thebuilding, yet the ladder held, and Mark sprang through the blazingwindow out of sight. It seemed an eternity till he returned bringing atiny bundle with him, and handing it out to Billy waiting below. 

The boy received as it had been a holy honor, that little bundle ofhumanity handed through the fire, and came solemnly down amid thebreathless gaze of the crowd, but when they looked to the top againMark had disappeared!

A murmur of horror went round the throng, for the flames were lickingand snapping, and the roof seemed to vibrate and quiver like a humanthing. Then before any one could stop him or even saw what he was goingto do, the minister sprang forward up the ladder like a cat, two roundsat a time, --three! He dashed through the fire and was gone!

For an instant it seemed that the people would go mad with the horrorof it. _Those two!_ Even the Fire Chief paused and seemedpetrified. It was Billy who sensed the thing to do. 

"Getcher canvas man? Are ya' asleep?"

And instantly a great piece of canvas was spread and lifted. But thebuilding tottered, the flames ate on, and the window seemed entirelyenveloped. The moment lasted too long for the hearts that waited. Agroan rent the air. Then suddenly a breath seemed to part the flamesand they saw the minister coming forward with Mark in his arms!

It was just at this instant that Lynn came flying down the street. Shehad kept the bells going till she knew all the help had come from adistance, and now she was coming to see if there was anything else forher to do. There before her she saw her father standing in that awfulsetting of fire, with Mark limp and lifeless in his arms! Then theflames licked up and covered the opening once more. _Oh, God!_Were they _both gone_?

Only for an instant more the suspense lasted, and then the cateclysm offire came. The roof fell carrying with it the floors as it went, down, down, down, shuddering like a human thing as it went, the rain of firepouring up and around in great blistering flakes and scorching theonlookers and lighting their livid faces as they stood transfixed withhorror at the sight. 

The canvas fluttered uselessly down and fire showered thick upon it. Timbers and beams crumbled like paper things and were no more. Thewhole flimsy structure had caved in!

Paralyzed with terror and sorrow the firemen stood gazing, and suddenlya boy's voice rang out: "Aw Gee! Git to work there! Whatterya doin'?Playin' dominoes? Turn that hose over there! That's where they fell. Say, you Jim, get that fire hook and lift that beam--! _Aw Gee_! Yaain't gonta let 'em _die, _ are ya, --? _Them two!"_

Billy had seized a heavy hose and was turning it on a central spot andJim Rafferty caught the idea and turned his stream that way, and intothe fire went the brave men, one and another, instantly, cheerfully, devotedly, the men who loved the two men in there. Dead or alive theyshould be got out if it killed them all. They would all die together. The Fire Chief stood close to Billy, and shouted his directions, andBilly worked with the tallest of them, black, hoarse and weary. 

It seemed ages. It was hours. It was a miracle! But they got those twomen out alive! Blackened and bruised and broken, burned almost beyondrecognition, but they were alive. They found them lying close to thefront wall, their faces together, Mark's body covered by theminister's. 

Tender hands brought them forth and carried them gently on stretchersout from the circle of danger and noise and smoke. Eagerly they wereministered to, with oil and old linen and stimulants. There weredoctors from Economy and one from Monopoly besides the Sabbath Valleydoctor, who was like a brother to the minister and had known Mark sincehe was born. They worked as if their lives depended upon it, till allthat loving skill could do was done. 

Billy, his eyelashes and brows gone, half his hair singed off, one eyeswollen shut and great blisters on his hands and arms, sat huddled andshivering on the ground between the two stretchers. The fire was stillgoing on but he was "all in. " The only thing left he could do was tobow his bruised face on his trembling knees and pray:

_"Oh God_, Ain't You gonta let 'em live--_please!"_

They carried Mark to the Saxon cottage and laid him on Billy's bed. There was no lack of nurses. Aunt Saxon and Christie McMertrie, theDuncannons and Mary Rafferty, Jim too, and Tom. It seemed thateverybody claimed the honors. The minister was across the street in theLittle House. They dared not move him farther. Of the two the case ofthe minister was the most hopeless. He had borne the burden of thefall. He had been struck by the falling timbers, his body had been acover for the younger man. In every way the minister had not savedhimself. 

The days that followed were full of anxiety. There were a few othersmore or less injured in the fire, for there had been fearless work, andno one had spared himself. But the two who hung at the point of deathfor so long were laid on the hearts of the people, because they weredear to almost every one. 

Little neighborhood prayer meetings sprang up quietly here and there, beginning at Duncannons. The neighbor on either side would come in andthey would just drop down and pray for the minister, and for "thatother dear brave brother. " Then the Littles heard of it and called in afew friends. One night when both sufferers were at the crisis and thereseemed little hope for the minister, Christie McMertrie called in theRaffertys and they were just on the point of kneeling down when Mrs. Harricutt came to the door. She had been crying. She said she and herhusband hadn't slept a wink the night before, they were so anxious forthe minister. Christie looked at her severely, but remembering thecommands about loving and forgiving, relented:

"Wull then, come on ben an' pray. Tom, you go call her husband! This isna time fer holdin' grudges. But mind, wumman, if ye coom heer to prayye must pray with as _mooch fervor_ for the healin' o' _MarkCarter_ as ye do fer the meenister! He's beloved of the Lord too, an' the meenister nigh give his life for him. "

And Mrs. Harricutt put up her apron to her eyes and entered the littlehaircloth parlor, while Tom, with a wry face went after the elder. Theelder proved that underneath all his narrowness and prejudice he had agrain of the real truth, for he prayed with fervor that the Lord wouldcleanse their hearts from all prejudice and open their minds to seewith heavenly vision that they might have power in prayer for thehealing of the two men. 

So, through the whole little village breaches were healed, and a moreloving feeling prevailed because the bond of anxiety and love held themall together and drew them nearer to their God. 

At last the day came when Mark, struggling up out of the fiery pit ofpain, was able to remember. 

Pain, fire, flame, choking gases, smoke, remorse, despair! It was allvague at first, but out of it came the memory slowly. There had been afire. He had gone back up the ladder after Mrs. Blimm's baby. Heremembered groping for the child in the smoke filled room, and bringingit blindly through the hall and back to the window where the ladderwas, but that room had all been in flames. He had wished for a wetcloth across his face. He could feel again the licking of the fire ashe passed the doorway. A great weight had been on his chest. His heartseemed bursting. His head had reeled, and he had come to the windowjust in time. Some one had taken the child--was it Billy?--or he wouldhave fallen. He _did_ fall. The memory pieced itself out bit bybit. He remembered thinking that he had entered the City of Fireliterally at last, "the minarets" already he seemed to descry "gleamingvermilion as if they from the fire had issued. " It was curious howthose old words from Dante had clung in his memory. "Eternal fire thatinward burns. " He thought he was feeling now in his body what his soulhad experienced for long months past. It was the natural ending, thething he had known he was coming to all along, the road of remorse anddespair. A fire that goes no more out! And this would last forever now!Then, someone, some strong arm had lifted him--God's air swept in--andfor an instant there seemed hope. But only that little breath ofrespite and there came a cry like myriads of lost souls. They werefalling, falling, down through fire, with fire above, below, around, everywhere. Down, down, --an abysmal eternity of fire, till his searedsoul writhed from his tortured body, and stood aside looking on athimself. 

There, there he lay, the Mark Carter that had started with life sofair, friends, prospects, so proud that he was a man, that he couldconquer and be brave--so blest with opening life, and heaven's highcall! And then--in one day--he had sinned and lost it all, and there helay, a white upturned face. That was himself, lying there with faceillumined by the fire, and men would call him dead! But he would not bedead! He would be living on with that inward fire, gnawing at hisvitals, telling him continually what he might have been, and showinghim what high heaven was that he had had, and lost. He saw it now. Hehad deliberately thrown away that heaven that had been his. He saw thathell was hell because he made it so, it was not God that put him there, but he had chosen there to go. And still the fire burned on andscorched his poor soul back into the body to be tortured more. The longweeks upon that bed seemed like an infinite space of burning rosy, oilyflames poured upward from a lake of fire, down through which he hadbeen falling in constant and increasing agony. 

And now at last he seemed to be flung upon this peaceful shore wherethings were cool and soothing for a brief respite, that he might lookoff at where he had been floating on that molten lake of fire, andunderstand it all before he was flung back. And it was all so veryreal. With his eyes still closed he could hear the rushing of theflames that still seemed ascending in columns out a little way fromshore, he could see through his eyelids the rosy hue of livid waters--of course it was all a hallucination, and he was coming to himself, buthe had a feeling that when he was fully awake it would be even moreterrible than now. Two grim figures, Remorse and Despair, seemedwaiting at either hand above his bed to companion him again when hecould get more strength to recognize them. And so he lay thus betweenlife and death, and faced what he had done. Hours and hours he facedit, when they knew not if he was conscious yet, going over and overagain those sins which he knew had been the beginning of all his walkaway from Hope. On through the night and into the next morning he laythus, sometimes drowsing, but most of the time alert and silent. 

It was a bright and sparkling morning. There was a tang of winter inthe air. The leaves were gone from the apple trees at the window andthe bare branches tapped against the water spout like children playingwith a rattle. A dog barked joyously, and a boy on the street shoutedout to another--_Oh, to be a boy once more!_ And suddenly Markknew Billy was sitting there. He opened his eyes and smiled: There werebandages around his face, but he smiled stiffly, and Billy knew he wassmiling. 

"Kid, " he said hoarsely from out the bandages, "This is God's world. "It seemed to be a great thought that he had been all this timegrasping, and had to utter. 

"Sure!" said Billy in a low happy growl. 

A long time after this, it might have been the next day, he wasn'tsure, or perhaps only a few minutes, he came at another truth:

"Kid, you can't get away from God--even when you try. "

"I'll say not, " said Billy. 

"But--when you've sinned--!" speculatively. 

"You gotta get it off yer chest. "

"You mean--confess?"

"Sure thing. Miss Lynn tells us in Sunday School about a fella in theBible got downta eatin' with the pigs in a far country, an' when hecome to himself he thought about his father's servants, an' he said'I'll get up and beat it home an' say I'm sorry!'"

"I know, " said Mark, and was still the rest of the day. But the nextmorning he asked the doctor how soon he might get up. This was thefirst real indication that Mark was on the mend, and the doctor smiledwith satisfaction. He meant to take off some of the bandages thatmorning. 

That afternoon with his head unswathed, Mark began to ask questions. Before that he had seemed to take everything for granted:

"Billy, where's the minister?" For Billy have never left his idol'sside except when Aunt Saxon needed him to help. 

"Oh, he's up to tha parsonage, " responded Billy carelessly. 

"But why hasn't he been to see me, Kid?"

"Why--he--hasn't been feelin' very good. " Billy's voice was brisk as ifit wasn't a matter of much moment. 

Mark turned his thoughtful gray eyes steadily on Billy:

"Now, look here, Kid, I'm well, and there's no further need tocamouflage. Billy, is the minister dead?"

"Not on yer tin type, he ain't dead!"

"Well, is he hurt?"

"Well, _some_, " Billy admitted cheerfully. 

"Kid, look me in the eye. "

Billy raised a saucy eye as well masked as Mark's own could be onoccasion. 

"Kid, how much is he hurt! _Tell me the truth!_ If you don't I'llget right up and go and see. "

"I'll tell the world, you won't!" said Billy rising lazily and taking agentle menacing step toward the bed. 

"Kid!"

"Well--he's some hurt--but he's getting along fine now. He'll beaw'wright. "

"How'd he get hurt?"

"Oh, the fire, same's you. "

"How?" insisted Mark. 

"Oh, he went up again after a fella when it was too late--"

"Billy, was it me?"

"Ugh huh!" nodded Billy. 

Mark was so still that Billy was frightened. When he looked up worriedhe saw that a great tear had escaped out from under the lashes whichwere growing nicely now, and had rolled down Mark's cheek. _Markcrying!_

In consternation Billy knelt beside the bed:

"Aw Gee! Mark, now don't you feel like that. He's gettin' all right nowthey hope, an' Gee! He was _great!_ You oughtta seen him!"

"Tell me about it, " said Mark huskily. 

"He just ran up that there ladder when it was shaking like a leaf, an'the wall beginning to buckle under it, an' he picked you up. Fer aminute there the flames kinda blew back, and we seen ya both, and thenthe roof caved, an' you all went down. But when we gotcha out he waslayin' right atop of ya, 'ith his arms spread out, trying t'cover ya!Gee, it was _great!_ Everybody was just as still, like he waspreachin'!"

After a long time Mark said:

"Billy, did you ever hear the words, 'Greater love hath no man thanthis, that a man lay down his life for his friend?'"

"Yep, " said Billy, "That's in the Bible I think, if 'taint inShakespeare. Miss Lynn said it over last Sunday. She says a lot ofthings from Shakespeare sometimes, and I kinda get'em mixed. "

But Mark did not talk any more that day. He had a great deal to thinkabout. 

But so did Billy, for looking out the window in the direction of theparsonage he had sighted the big Shafton car stopping before the doorthat morning. "Aw Gee!" he said. "That sissy-guy again? Now, how'm Igonta get rid of him this time? Gee! Just when Mark's gettin' well too!If life ain't just _one thing after another!"_

XXX

It was a bright frosty morning in the edge of winter when at last theylet Mark go to see the minister, and Billy took care that no hint ofthe Shafton car should reach his knowledge. Slowly, gravely he escortedMark down the street and up the parsonage steps. 

The minister was lying on a couch in the living room and there was alow chair drawn up near by with a book open at the place, and a bit offluffy sewing on the low table beside it. Mark looked hungrily aboutfor the owner of the gold thimble, but there was no sign of either Mrs. Severn or Marilyn about. 

There was a bandage over the minister's eyes. They hadn't told Markabout that yet. 

The minister held out a groping hand with his old sweet smile andhearty welcoming voice:

"Well, son, you've come at last! Beat me to it, didn't you? I'm glad. That was fair. Young blood you know. "

Mark knelt down by the couch with his old friend's hand held fast:Billy had faded into the landscape out on the front steps somewhere, and was even now settling down for an extended wait. If this interviewwent well he might hope to get a little rest and catch up on sportssometime soon. It all depended on this. 

Mark put up his other hand and touched the bandage:

"Father!" he said, "Father!" and broke down "Father, I have sinned--"he said brokenly. 

The minister's arm went lovingly up across the young man's shoulders:

"Son, have you told your heavenly Father that?" he asked gently. 

"I've tried, " said Mark, "I'm not sure that He heard. "

"Oh, He _heard_, " said the minister with a ring of joy in hisvoice, "While you were a great way off He came to meet you, son. "

"You don't know yet, " said Mark lifting a white sad face--"

"If you've told Him I'll trust you son. It's up to you whether you tellme or not. "

"It is your right to know, sir. I want you to know. I cannot rest againuntil you do. "

"Then tell. " The minister's hand folded down tenderly over the boy's, and so kneeling beside the couch Mark told his story:

"I must begin by telling you that I have always loved Marilyn. "

"I know, " said the minister, with a pressure on the hand he covered. 

"One day I heard someone telling Mrs. Severn that I was not good enoughfor her;"

"I know, " said the minister again. 

"You know?" said Mark in surprise. 

"Yes, go on. "

"I went away and thought it over. I felt as if I would die. I was madand hurt clear through, but after I thought it over I saw that all shehad said was true. I wasn't good enough. There was a great deal ofpride mixed with it all of course, I've seen that since, but I wasn'tgood enough. Nobody was. Lynn is, --_wonderful--!_ But I was just acommon, insignificant nobody, not fit to be her mate. I knew it! Icould see just how things were going too. I saw you didn't realize it, you nor Mrs. Severn. I knew Marilyn cared, but I thought she didn'trealize it either, and I saw it was up to me. If she wasn't to have tosuffer by being parted from me when she grew older, I must teach hernot to care before she knew she cared. For days I turned it over in mymind. Many nights I lay awake all night or walked out on the hills, threshing it all over again. And I saw another thing. I saw that if itwas so hard for me then when I was not much more than a kid it would beharder for her if I let her grow up caring, and then we had to beparted, so I decided to make the break. The day I made the decision Iwent off in the hills and stayed all day thinking it out. And then Ilooked up in the sky and told God I was done with Him. I had prayed andprayed that He would make a way out of this trouble for me, and Hehadn't done anything about it, and I felt that He was against me too. So when I had done that I felt utterly reckless. I didn't care whathappened to me, and I decided to go to the bad as fast as I could. Ifelt it would be the best way too to make Marilyn get over being fondof me. So I went down to Monopoly that night and looked up a fellowthat had been coaching the teams for a while and was put out by theassociation because he was rotten. He had always made a fuss over me, wanted to make a big player out of me, and I knew he would be glad tosee me. 

"He was. He took me out to supper that night and gave me liquor todrink. You know I had never touched a drop. Never had intended to aslong as I lived. But when he offered it to me I took it down as if Ihad been used to it. I didn't care. I wanted to do all the wrong Icould. 

"I drank again and again, and I must have got pretty drunk. I rememberthe crowd laughed at me a great deal. And they brought some girlsaround. It makes me sick to think of it now. We went to a place anddanced. I didn't know how, but I danced anyway. And there was moredrinking. I don't remember things very distinctly. I did whatever thecoach said, and he had been going a pretty good pace himself. --Thatnight--!" His voice choked with shame and it seemed as though he couldnot go on--but the minister's clasp was steady and the boy gatheredcourage and went on--"That night--we--went--to a house of shame--!"

He dropped his head and groaned. The minister did not attempt to breakthe pause that followed. He knew the struggle that was going on in thebitterness of the young man's soul. He maintained that steady handclasp:

"In the morning--when I came to myself--" he went on "I knew what I haddone. I had cut myself off forever from all that made life worth while. I would never be worthy again to even speak to you all whom I loved somuch. I would never be able to look myself in the face again even. Iwas ashamed. I had given up God and love, and everything worth while. 

"That was when I went away to New York. Mother tried to stop me, but Iwould go. I tried when I got to New York to plunge into a wild life, but it didn't attract me. I had to force myself. Besides, I hadresolved that whatever came, wherever I went I would not drink and Iwould _keep clean_. I thought that by so doing I might in time atleast win back my self respect. Later I conceived the idea of trying tosave others from a life of shame. I did succeed in helping some tobetter ways I think, both men and girls. But I only won a worsereputation at home for it, and I'm not sure I did much good. I onlyknow I walked in hell from morning to night, and in time I came todwell among lost souls. It seemed the only place that I belonged. 

"You remember when you read us Dante 'Thou who through the City of Firealive art passing'? You used to preach in church about beginning theeternal life now, and making a little heaven below, I'm sure that is astrue of hell. I began my eternal life five years ago, but it was inhell, and I shall go on living in that fire of torture forever, apartfrom all I love. I tried to get out by doing good to others, but it wasof no avail. I thought never to tell you this, but something made me, after you--you gave your life for me--!"

"And had you forgotten, " said the minister tenderly, "That the blood ofJesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin? And that he said, 'Comenow and let us reason together, Though your sins be as scarlet theyshall be as white as snow?'"

"I gave up all right to that when I gave up God on the mountain. "

"But God did not give up you, " said the minister. "Do you think a truefather would cast out a child because it got angry and shook its fistin his face? You will find Him again when you search for Him with allyour heart. You have told Him you were sorry, and He has promised toforgive. You can't save yourself, but He can save you. Now, son, go andtell Marilyn everything. "

"Do you mean it, --_Father?"_

"I mean it--_Son_. The doctor is coming by and by to take offthese bandages, and I want the first thing that my eyes rest upon aftermy dear wife's face, to be the faces of you two. My beloved children. "

 * * * * *

Sabbath Valley lay tucked warm and white beneath a blanket of snow. Allthe week it had been coming down, down, in great white flakes ofespecially sorted sizes, filling the air mightily with winter clean anddeep. Here in the fastnesses of the hills it seemed that the treasuretroves of the sky had been opened to make all beautiful and quiet whilewinter passed that way. Lone Valley was almost obliterated, piercedwith sharp pine trees in bunches here and there, like a flock of pinsin a pincushion, and the hills rose gently on either side like a vastamphitheatre done in white and peopled thick with trees in heavy whitefurs. 

The Highway was almost impassable for a day or two, but the state snowplow passed over as soon as the snow stopped falling, and left a whitepavement with white walls either side. The tunnel through the mountainswas only a black dot in the vast whiteness, and Pleasant View Stationwore a heavy cap of snow dripping down in lavish fringes edged withicicles. The agent's little shanty up the mountain was buried out ofsight behind a snow drift and had to be dug out from the back, and noLake Train ran any more. The express was five hours late. StarkMountain loomed white against the sky. And over in Sabbath Valley thenight it stopped snowing all the villagers were out shovelling theirwalks and calling glad nothings back and forth as they flung the whitestar dust from their shovels, and little children came out with rubberboots and warm leggings and wallowed in the beauty. The milkman got outan old sleigh and strung a line of bells around his horse. The boys andgirls hurried up the mountain to their slide with home made sleds andlaughing voices, and the moon came up looking sweetly from a suddenclearing sky. 

Over in the church the windows shone with light, and the bells wereringing out the old sweet songs the villagers loved. Marilyn was at theorgan and Mark by her side. In the body of the church willing handswere working, setting up the tall hemlocks that Tom and Jim had broughtin from the mountain, till the little church was fragrant and literallylined with lacey beauty, reminding one of ancient worship in the woods. Holly wreaths were hanging in the windows everywhere, and ropes ofground pine and laurel festooned from every pillar and corner and peakof roof. 

Laurie Shafton had sent a great coffer of wonderful roses, and thecountry girls were handling them with awe, banking them round thepulpit, and trailing them over the rail of the little choir loft, wonderful roses from another world, the world that Marilyn Severn mighthave married into if she had chosen. And there sat Marilyn asindifferent as if they were dandelions, praising the _trees_ thathad been set up, delighting in their slender tops that rose likeminiature spires all round the wall, drawing in the sweetness of theirwinter spicy breath, and never saying a word about the roses. "Roses?Oh, yes, they look all right, Girls, just put them wherever you fancy. I'll be suited. But aren't those trees too beautiful for words?"

When the work was done they trooped out noisily into the moonlight, bright like day only with a beauty that was almost unearthly in itsradiance. The others went on down the street calling gay words back andforth, but Mark and Marilyn lingered, bearing a wreath of laurel, andstepping deep into the whiteness went over to the white piled moundwhere they had laid Mrs. Carter's body to rest and Mark stooped downand pressed the wreath down into the snow upon the top:

"Dear little mother, " he said brokenly, "She loved pretty things and Imeant to give her so many of them sometime to make up--"

"But she'll be glad--" said Marilyn softly, "We loved each other verymuch--!"

"Yes, she'll be glad!" he answered. "She often tried to find out why Inever went to the parsonage any more. Poor little mother! That was herdeepest disappointment--! Yes, she'll be glad--!"

 * * * * *

When morning came it seemed as though the very glory of God was spreadforth on Sabbath Valley for display. There it lay, a shining gem of alittle white town, in the white velvet cup of the Valley, dazzling andresplendent, the hills rising round about reflecting more brightnessand etched with fringes of fine branches each burdened with a line ofheavy furry white. Against the clear blue sky the bell tower rose, andfrom its arches the bells rang forth a wedding song. Marilyn in herwhite robes, with a long white veil of rare old lace handed downthrough the generations, falling down the back and fastened about herforehead, and with a slim little rope of pearls, also an heirloom, wasringing her own wedding bells, with Mark by her side, while thevillagers gathered outside the door waiting for the wedding march tobegin before they came in. 

The minister and his wife stood back in his little study behind thepulpit, watching their two with loving eyes, and down by the front doorstood Billy in a new suit with his hair very wet and licked back froman almost crimson countenance, waiting the word to fling open the doorand let the congregation in. 

"_Tum_, diddy_dum_--Diddy_dum_--diddy_dum_--Diddy_dum_--diddy_dum_--Diddydum--_dum_--_dum_--Dum--Dum--Dum!" began the organ and Billy flung the portals wide andstood aside on the steps to let the throng pass in, his eyes shining asif they would say, "Aw Gee! Ain't this great?"

And just at that moment, wallowing through the snow, with the air ofhaving come from the North Pole there arrived a great car and drew upto the door, and Laurie Shafton jumped anxiously out and flung open thedoor for his passengers. 

"Aw Gee! That Fish! Whadde wantta come here for? The great_chump_! Don't he know he ain't _in it?_"

Billy watched in lofty scorn from his high step and decided to hurry inand not have to show any honors to that sissy-guy. 

Then out from the car issued Opal, done in furs from brow to shoe andlooking eagerly about her, and following her a big handsome sporty manalmost twice her age, looking curiously interested, as if he had cometo a shrine to worship, Opal's husband. Billy stared, and thenremembering that the wedding march was almost over and that he might bemissing something:

"Aw, Gee! Whadduw I care? He ain't little apples now, anyhow. Hecouldn'ta bought her with _barrels_ of roses, an' he knows it too, the poor stiff. He must be a pretty good scout after all, takin' hismedicine straight!"

Then Billy slid in and the quiet little ceremony began. 

The organ hushed into nothing. Marilyn arose, took Mark's arm, andtogether they stepped down and stood in front of the minister, who hadcome down the steps of the pulpit and was awaiting them, with Marilyn'smother sitting only a step away on the front seat. 

It was all so quiet and homey, without fuss or marching or any suchthing, and when the ceremony was over the bride and groom turned aboutin front of the bank of hemlock and roses and their friends swarmed upto congratulate them. Then everybody went into the parsonage, where theladies of the church had prepared a real country wedding breakfast withChristmas turkey and fixings for a foundation and going on from that. It wasn't every day in the year that Sabbath Valley got its minister'sdaughter married, and what if the parsonage _was_ small and onlyfifty could sit down at once, everybody was patient, and it was all themore fun!

The three guests from out of town, self imposed, looked on with wonderand interest. It was a revelation. Marilyn looked up and found big EdVerrons frankly staring at her, a puzzled pleased expression on hislarge coarse face. She was half annoyed and wondered why they had cometo spoil this perfect day. Then suddenly the big man stepped across thelittle living room and spoke:

"Mrs. Carter, we came over to-day because Opal said you had somethingthat would help us begin over again and make life more of a success. Iwant to thank you for having this chance to see a little bit of heavenon earth before I die. "

Later, when the city guests were fed and comforted perhaps, and hadclimbed back into the big car, Billy stood on the front porch with athird helping of ice cream and watched them back, and turn, and wallowaway into the deep white world, and his heart was touched with pity:

"Aw, Gee! The poor fish! I'spose it is hard lines! And then it wassorta my faultchu know, " and he turned with a joyful sigh that theywere gone, and went in to look again at Mary Louise Little, and seewhat it was about her in that new blue challis that made her look sosorta nice to-day.