through the slender
chinks of the worn flooring he caught bright glimpses of running water.
When he came out of the other end he felt enough refreshed to light a
cigar.

"Well, here I am," he said. "Across Main Street bridge--and it must be
getting on toward noon!" He spoke almost with the aspect of daring,
and immediately stood still, listening. "'REMEMBER,"' he ventured to
repeat, again daring, "'REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!'"
And again he listened. Then he chuckled faintly with relief, for the
voice did not return. "Thank God, I've got rid of that!" he whispered.
"And of the circus band too!"

A dust road turned to the right, following the river and shaded by big
sycamores on the bank; the mongrel, intensely preoccupied with this
road, scampered away, his nose to the ground. "Good enough," said the
master. "Lead on and I'll come after you."

But he had not far to follow. The chase led him to a half-hollow log
which lay on a low, grass-grown levee above the stream, where the dog's
interest in the pursuit became vivid; temporarily, however, for after a
few minutes of agitated investigation, he was seized with indifference
to the whole world; panted briefly; slept. Joe sat upon the log, which
was in the shade, and smoked.

"'REMEMBER!'" He tried it once more. "'ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT
NOON!'" Safety still; the voice came not. But the sound of his own
repetition of the words brought him an eerie tremor; for the mist of a
memory came with it; nothing tangible, nothing definite, but something
very far away and shadowy, yet just poignant enough to give him a queer
feeling that he was really keeping an appointment here. Was it with
some water-sprite that would rise from the river? Was it with a dryad
of the sycamores? He knew too well that he might expect strange
fancies to get hold of him this morning, and, as this one grew
uncannily stronger, he moved his head briskly as if to shake it off.
The result surprised him; the fancy remained, but his headache and
dizziness had left him.

A breeze wandered up the river and touched the leaves and grass to
life. Sparrows hopped and chirped in the branches, absurdly surprised;
without doubt having concluded in the Sunday stillness that the world
would drowse forever; and the mongrel lifted his head, blinked at them,
hopelessly wishing they would alight near him, scratched his ear with
the manner of one who has neglected such matters overlon