world. 'Taint like our Lucy."

Kenneth had turned around on his stool and was regarding old Will Rogers
earnestly, brush and pallet alike forgotten. Beth was trying to keep the
tears out of her own eyes, for the old man's voice was even more
pathetic than his words.

"Ten days ago!" said Kenneth. "And she hasn't been found yet?"

"We can't trace her anywhere, an' Nell has broke down at las', an' don't
do much but cry. It's hard, sir--I can't bear to see Nell cry. She'd
sich high sperrits, onct."

"Where's the boy Tom?" asked Kenneth, somewhat gruffly.

"He's in the jail yet, waitin' to be tried. Court don't set till next
week, they say."

"And where do you live, Rogers?"

"Five miles up the Fairview road. 'Taint much of a place--Nell says I've
always bin a shif'les lot, an' I guess it's true. Yesterday your hired
men painted all the front o' my fence--painted it white--not only where
th' signs was, but th' whole length of it. We didn't ask it done, but
they jes' done it. I watched 'em, an' Nell says if we on'y had th' money
thet was wasted on thet paint an' labor, we might find our Lucy. 'It's a
shame,' says Nell, 'all thet 'lection money bein' thrown away on paint
when it might save our poor crazy child.' I hope it ain't wrong, sir;
but thet's what I thought, too. So we laid plans fer me to come here
today. Ef I kin get a-hold o' any o' thet money honest, I want to do
it."

"Have you got a horse?" asked Kenneth.

"Not now. I owned one las' year, but he died on me an' I can't get
another nohow."

"Did you walk here?" asked Beth.

"Yes, miss; o' course. I've walked the hull county over a-tryin' to find
Lucy. I don' mind the walking much."

There was another pause, while old Will Rogers looked anxiously at the
boy and the girl, and they looked at each other. Then Beth took out her
purse.

"I want to hire your services to help us in the election," she said,
briskly. "I'll furnish you a horse and buggy and you can drive around
and talk with people and try to find Lucy at the same time. This twenty
dollars is to help you pay expenses. You needn't account for it; just
help us as much as you can."

The old man straightened up and his eyes filled again.

"Nell said if it was a matter o' charity I mustn't take a cent," he
observed, in a low voice.

'"It isn't charity. It's business. And now that we know your story we
mean to help you find your girl. Anyone would do that, you know. Tell
me, what is Lucy like