excuse my saying so. I swan, I 'lowed you all would be right pleased
to think the long waiting's so nearly over."

"It isn't that," Jessie told him, trying to keep her lips from
quivering, "but--Joe has gone."

"What!"

Jessie repeated the statement.

"Pshaw! Now, that's too bad!" Mr. Wilson exclaimed, rubbing his hair
upright, as he always did when perplexed. "Wal', I don't know when
I've heard anything more surprising," he continued, when Jessie had
detailed the manner of Joe's disappearance to him; "I'd a banked on
that old man to the last breath o' life. And he's gone! Appearances
are all-fired deceivin', that's so, but don't you grieve over it,
girls; it'll all come out all right in the end. The old man has stayed
right by you and helped you good since your pa was taken, but we must
remember that he never was in the habit of tyin' himself down to one
place before this, and, more'n likely's not, his old, rovin' habits
have suddenly proved too strong fer him, and he's jest lit out because
he couldn't stan' the pressure any longer."

"But Joe is so faithful; he has always been just like one of the
family, and he knows so well how badly we need him," I objected; "it
does not seem possible for him to have deserted us."

"Desert is a purty ha'sh word, Miss Leslie. There's some mystery about
it, take my word for it. Joe'll be back again, and when he comes I'll
guarantee that he'll be able to give some good reason for going away."

Jessie shook her head, tearfully. "I don't believe he will ever come
back," she said.

"Wal', s'pose he doesn't? I reckon you two ain't goin' to let go your
grip on that account. But troubles do seem to kind o' thicken around
you! That's so."

He paused a moment, musing over our troubles, and Ralph took advantage
of his silence to call his attention to the kitten with which one of
the neighbors had presented him to the jealous torment of his old
playfellow, the big cat: "My new tat tan wink wiv bof he eyes, see?"
he proclaimed, holding the animal up for inspection.

"Yes, yes, I see, little feller," was the absent reply.

Encouraged, Ralph put the kitten on his lap. "Her won't bite; 'oo
needn't be 'fraid," he said.

Mr. Wilson stroked the small cat mechanically and then lifted it to
the ground--using its tail for a handle, to Ralph's speechless
indignation--then he faced us again, his forehead puckered with
anxious wrinkles: "There's one thing that I never thought of until
early