'll jus' try once more--"

"Won't anything go out of this room except what you tell yourself,
Stellar Bahrr," Ponk said, gravely. "Now you go home an' begin to act
better and think better, an' this'll be a heap cleaner town forever
after. An' if you live right the rest of your days you 'll keep on
livin' after you're dead, like mother does. The charges of this case is
all settled. I congratulate you, Miss Fair Defendant. You are a Joan of
Arc, an' a Hannah Dustin, an Boaz's Ruth, an' Barbara Fritchie, all in
one."

While the other two members of the board were shamefacedly shaking hands
and offering Jerry half of New Eden as a recompense, old Fishin' Teddy
slipped out of the side door through the dining-room and on to where
Ponk's best livery car waited to take him to his rude shack beside the
deep hole in the Sage Brush.

As Jerry passed into the hall she found a crowd waiting for her--the
three ministers from the churches, the mayor of New Eden, the friends of
the Macphersons, York himself, and many more of the town's best, who had
gathered to congratulate Jerry and to assure her of their pride in her
ability and appreciation of her as a citizen of New Eden.

With the Commencement that night the school fuss and town split
disappeared at one breath and passed into history.

When they reached the doorway of "Castle Cluny," after the Commencement
exercises, York handed Jerry a letter. It was a long and affectionately
worded message from Eugene Wellington, telling of the passing of Jerusha
Darby, of his inheritance, and of his intention to come at once to
Kansas and take her back to the "Eden" she had neglected so long.

And Jerry, worn with the events of the last few weeks, feeling the
strain suddenly lifted, welcomed the letter and shed a tear upon it,
saying, softly:

"Oh, I'm so tired of everything now! If he comes for me, he'll find me
ready to meet him. The flesh-pots of the Winnowoc are better to me than
this weary desert."

<tb>

Came an evening three days before the date for the lease on the Swaim
land to expire. Jerry sat alone on the Macpherson porch. It had been an
extremely hot day for June, with the dead, tasteless air that presages
the coming of a storm, and to-night the moon seemed to struggle up
toward the zenith against choking gray clouds that threatened to smother
out its light.

Jerry was not happy to-night. She wanted Joe Thomson to come this
evening. It had been such a long while since