He was a beautiful boy, Still, wasn't
he?"

"Yes, little Pen, I loved him very much, then."

"Life was unfair to him to give him a greater burden than he was
designed to bear," said Pen. "I shall miss the care of him. I am going
to miss the demands he made on my best spiritual effort. I'm going to
sag like a fiddle string released. If only he has gone on now to a
better chance! Poor, poor tortured Sara!"

Jim rubbed the little twitching fingers and Pen leaned against his
shoulder softly as though she needed his nearness to steady her. She
went on a little brokenly:

"'Envy and calumny and hate and pain
And that unrest which men miscall delight
Can touch him not and torture not again----'

"I guess I won't get over the scarring, Still. I'm so tired."

"You've the priceless gift of youth, dear Penny," said Jim softly. "Go
and play, sweetheart."

There was a long silence. Dawn was marching on the mountain tops.
Penelope watched the silver glory of the star-studded sky and she said
in a steadier tone:

"'Life like a dome of many colored glass
Stains the white radiance of Eternity
Until death tramples it to fragments----'"

A sudden scarlet revealed itself on a far peak. It was like a marvelous
translucent ruby, set in a silver mist.

Uncle Denny turned. "Henderson says we are right on the railroad."

"We are," replied Jim, "and yonder is the train."

The automobile drew into the station with the train and Uncle Denny,
with Henderson, helped embark poor Sara on his last ride, while Jim put
Pen aboard the train. Pen followed Jim back onto the train platform. Jim
shook hands with her and stood on the lower step waiting for the train
to start. His face in the dawn light was very wistful. Suddenly Pen's
lips quivered. Just as the train began to move, "Jim!" she whispered.
And she leaned over and caught his face between her hands and kissed him
quickly on the lips. Then she slipped into the coach. Jim dropped off
the train and stood staring unseeingly at Uncle Denny and Henderson. A
to-hee sang its morning song from a nearby cactus:

"O yahee! O yahai!
Sweet as arrow weed in spring!"

"Put your hat on, me boy," said Uncle Denny, who had not seen the little
episode, "and come on." He led the way to the machine and climbed in
beside Jim. "Well, Still, she's gone!"

Jim turned and looked at his Uncle Denny. "She's not gone for long. When
I have finished the Project fight I shall g