," he said. "If--if I should take
Dr. Spifkin's practice, I hope I may see you sometimes. It is not far
from here, is it, to the town--pump?"

Esther laughed. "No, but I do not live out here. I only teach here. We
live in town, or almost in. You will pass the house on the way to the
hotel. But before you go--" with a gleeful smile she handed him his lost
pocketbook--"this fell out of your coat when I pull--helped you under
the tree. I should have given it to you before, but I wanted you to
understand just how far the blessing of hunger depends upon one's power
to gratify it."

They laughed together with a splendid sense of comradeship; then with a
startled "I really must ring the bell!" she turned and ran up the steps.

Smilingly he watched her disappear, waiting musingly until a sudden
furious ringing told him that school was called.

CHAPTER III

Two sandwiches, an apple, and a glass of water may save a man from
starvation, but they do not go far towards satisfying the reviving
appetite of a convalescent. Walking with brisk step down the road,
Callandar began to imagine the kind of meal he would order--a clear
soup, broiled steak, crisp potatoes--a few little simple things like
that! He fingered his pocketbook lovingly, glad that, for the first time
in some months, he actually wanted something that money could buy.

Now that noon was past, the intense heat of the morning was tempered by
a breeze. It was still hot and his footsteps raised little cyclones of
dust which flew along the road before him, but the oppression in the air
was gone, and walking had ceased to be a weariness. The mile which
separated him from Coombe appeared no longer endless, yet so insistent
were the demands of his inner man that when a town-going farmer hailed
him with the usual offer of a "lift," he accepted the invitation
with alacrity.

"Better," he murmured to himself, "the delights of rustic conversation
with a good meal at the end thereof than lordly solitude and
emptiness withal."

But contrary to expectation the rustic declined to converse. He was a
melancholy-looking man with a long jaw and eyes so deep-set that the
observer took them on faith, and a nose which alone would have been
sufficient to identify him. Beyond the first request to "step up," he
vouchsafed no word and, save for an inarticulate gurgle to his horse,
seemed lost in an ageless calm. His gaze was fixed upon some indefinite
portion of the horse's back