LITMIR.BIZ

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thought I did."

      "Well, didn't ye?"

      "Yes."

      "Come on, then!"

      "No—"

      "What you scared of him for?"

      "He's a great man."

      "But he's my Papa."

      "He don't want to be bothered with little boys."

      "Yes, he does, too. He hears everything I've got to say to him."

      "Ain't you skeered of him?"

      "No!"

      Robbie seized John's hand again and before he could draw back dragged him to his father's side.

      Lee turned the friendliest smile on John's flushed face and won his confidence before a word was spoken.

      "Well, Robbie, what's your handsome little friend's name?"

      "John Doyle, Papa."

      "Your father lives on the farm just outside our gate, doesn't he?"

      "Yessir," the boy answered eagerly.

      His embarrassment had gone. But it was hard to begin his story. It had seemed easy at first, the need was so great. Now it seemed that he had no right to make the request he had in his heart.

      He hung his head and dug his big toe in the gravel.

      Robbie hastened to his rescue.

      "John wants to tell you something, Papa," he began tenderly.

      "All right," Lee cheerfully answered as he drew one boy within each arm and hugged them both. "What can I do for you, Johnnie?"

      "I dunno, sir. I hope you can do somethin'."

      "I will, if I can. I like to do things for boys. I was a little boy once myself and I know exactly how it feels. What is it?"

      Again the child hesitated.

      Lee studied the lines of his finely molded face and neck and throat. A handsomer boy of ten he had never seen. He pressed his arm closer and held him a moment until he looked up with a tear glistening in his blue eyes.

      "Tell me, sonny—"

      "My Ma's been cryin' all day, sir, and I want to do somethin' to help her—"

      He paused and his voice failed.

      "What has she been crying about?"

      "We've lost our home, sir, and my daddy's drunk."

      "You've lost your home?"

      "Yessir. The sheriff come this mornin'. And he's goin' to put us out.

       Ma's most crazy. I ain't been a very good boy here lately—"

      "No?"

      "No, sir. I've been runnin' away and goin' fishin' and hurtin' my Ma's feelin's and now I wish I hadn't done it. I heard her sayin' this mornin' while she wuz cryin', that you wuz the only man she knowed on earth who could help us. She was afeared to come to see you. And I slipped out to tell ye. I thought if I could get you to come to see us, maybe you could tell Ma what to do and that would make up for my hurtin' her so when I run away from my lessons this week."

      The Colonel gently pressed the boys away and rose with quick decision.

      "I'll ride right up, sonny, and see your mother."

      "Will you, Colonel Lee?" the child asked with pathetic eagerness.

      "Just as soon as I can have my horse saddled."

      Lee turned abruptly into the house and left the boy dazed. He threw his arms around Robbie, hugged him in a flash and was gone. Up the dusty way to the gate the little bare feet flew to tell glad tidings to a lonely woman.

      She stood beside the window looking out on the wreck of her life in a stupor of wordless pain. She saw her boy leap the fence as a hound and rushed from the house in alarm to meet him.

      He was breathless, but he managed to gasp his message.

      "Ma—Ma—Colonel Lee's comin' to see you!"

      "To see me?"

      "Yes'm. I told him we'd lost our home and he said he'd come right up.

       And he's comin', too—"

      The mother looked into the child's flushed face, saw the love light in his eyes and caught him to her heart.

      "Oh, boy, boy, you're such a fine young one—my baby—as smart as a whip. You'll beat 'em all some day and make your poor old mother proud and happy."

      "I'm going to try now, Ma—you see if I don't."

      "I know you will, my son."

      "I'll never run away again. You see if I do."

      The boy stopped suddenly at the sight of Colonel Lee swiftly approaching.

      "Run and wash your face," the mother whispered, "and tell your brothers to put on clean shirts. I want them to see the Colonel, too."

      The boy darted into the house.

      The woman looked about the yard to see if there were any evidences of carelessness. She had tried to keep it clean. The row of flowers that flamed in the beds beside the door was the finest in the county. She knew that. She was an expert in the culture of the prolific tall cosmos that blooms so beautifully in the Indian summers of Old Virginia.

      A cur dog barked.

      "Get under the house, sir!" she commanded.

      The dog continued to look down the road at the coming horseman.

      "Get under the house, I say—" she repeated and the dog slowly obeyed.

      She advanced to meet her visitor. He hitched his horse to a swinging limb outside the gate and hurried in.

      No introduction was necessary. The Colonel had known her husband for years and he had often lifted his hat to his wife in passing.

      He extended his hand and grasped hers in quick sympathy.

      "I'm sorry to learn of your great misfortune from your fine boy, Mrs.

       Doyle."

      The woman's eyes filled with tears in spite of her firm resolution to be dignified.

      "He is a fine—boy—isn't he, Colonel?"

      "One of the handsomest little chaps I ever saw. You should be proud of him."

      "I am, sir."

      She drew her figure a bit higher instinctively. The movement was not lost on the keen observer of character. He had never noticed before the distinction of her personality. In a simple calico dress, and forty years of age, she presented a peculiarly winsome appearance. Her features were regular, and well rounded, the coloring of cheeks and neck and hands the deep pink of perfect health. Her eyes were a bright glowing brown. They were large, soulful eyes that spoke the love of a mother. She might scold her husband if provoked. But those eyes could never scold a child. They could only love him into obedience and helpfulness. They were shining mother eyes.

      Lee studied her in a quick glance before speaking. He knew instinctively that he could trust her word.

      "Is there anything I can do, Mrs. Doyle?"

      "Oh, I hope so, sir. My man's gone all to pieces to-day. He's good-hearted and kind if I do have to say it myself. But when the sheriff come to put us out, he just flopped and quit. And then he got drunk. I don't blame him much. If I hadn't been a woman and the mother of three fine boys and two as pretty little gals as the Lord ever give to a woman, I reckon I'd a got drunk, too."

      She stopped, overcome with emotion and Lee hastened to ask:

      "How did it happen, Mrs.

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