azzar softly stepped over the leaves, passed around
the feet of the girl, and paused beside her, nose to earth, softly
sniffing.

In one moment she came swiftly to a sitting posture.

"Oh!" she cried in a spasm of fright.

Belshazzar reached an investigating nose and wagged an eager tail.

"Why you are a nice friendly dog!" said the trembling voice.

He immediately verified the assertion by offering his nose for a kiss.
The girl timidly laid a hand on his head.

"Heaven knows I'm lonely enough to kiss a dog," she said, "but suppose
you belong to the man who stole my ginseng, and then ran away so fast he
forgot his----his piece he digged with."

Belshazzar pressed closer.

"I am just killed, and I don't care whose dog you are," sobbed the girl.

She threw her arms around Belshazzar's neck and laid her white face
against his satiny shoulder. The Harvester could endure no more. He took
a step forward, his face convulsed with pain.

"Please don't!" he begged. "I took your ginseng. I'll bring it back
to-morrow. There wasn't more than twenty-five or thirty dollars' worth.
It doesn't amount to one tear."

The girl arose so quickly, the Harvester could not see how she did it.
With a startled fright on her face, and the dark eyes swimming, she
turned to him in one long look. Words rolled from the lips of the man in
a jumble. Behind the tears there was a dull, expressionless blue in the
girl's eyes and her face was so white that it appeared blank. He began
talking before she could speak, in an effort to secure forgiveness
without condemnation.

"You see, I grow it for a living on land I own, and I've always gathered
all there was in the country and no one cared. There never was enough in
one place to pay, and no other man wanted to spend the time, and so
I've always felt free to take it. Every one knew I did, and no one ever
objected before. Once I paid Henry Jameson for the privilege of cleaning
it from these woods. That was six or seven years ago, and it didn't
occur to me that I wasn't at liberty to dig what has grown since. I'll
bring it back at once, and pay you for the shrinkage from gathering it
too early. There won't be much over six pounds when it's dry. Please,
please don't feel badly. Won't you trust me to return it, and make good
the damage I've done?"

The face of the Harvester was eager and his tones appealing, as he
leaned forward trying to make her understand.

"Certainly!" said the Girl as she be