his shoulders. The Harvester dropped the pencil,
and palm downward laid his hands on the table, his promise strong in
his heart. The Girl slid a shaking palm under his chin, leaned his head
against her breast, and dropped a sweet, tear-wet face on his. With all
the strength of her frail arms she gripped him a second, and then gave
the kiss, into which she tried to put all she could find no words to
express.

CHAPTER XIV. SNOWY WINGS

The Harvester sat at the table in deep thoughts until the lights in the
Girl's room were darkened and everything was quiet. Then he locked
the screens inside and went into the night. The moon flooded all the
hillside, until coarse print could have been read with keen eyes in its
light. A restlessness, born of exultation he could not allay or control,
was on him. She had not forgotten! After this, the dream would be
effaced by reality. It was the beginning. He scarcely had dared hope for
so much. Surely it presaged the love with which she some day would
come to him and crown his life. He walked softly up and down the drive,
passing her windows, unable to think of sleep. Over and over he dwelt on
the incidents of the day, so inevitably he came to his promise.

"Merciful Heaven!" he muttered. "How can such things happen? The poor,
overworked, tired, suffering girl. It will give her some comfort. She
will feel better. It has to be done. I believe I will do the worst part
of it while she sleeps."

He went to the cabin, crept very close to one of her windows and
listened intently. Surely no mortal awake could lie motionless so long.
She must be sleeping. He patted Belshazzar, whispered, "Watch, boy,
watch for your life!" and then crossed to the dry-house. Beside it he
found a big roll of coffee sacks that he used in collecting roots, and
going to the barn, he took a spade and mattock. Then he climbed the hill
to the oak; in the white moonlight laid off his measurements and began
work. His heart was very tender as he lifted the earth, and threw it
into the tops of the big bags he had propped open.

"I'll line it with a couple of sheets and finish the edge with pond
lilies and ferns," he planned, "and I'll drag this earth from sight, and
cover it with brush until I need it."

Sometimes he paused in his work to rest a few minutes and then he stood
and glanced around him. Several times he went down the hill and slipped
close to a window, but he could not hear a sound. When his work was
fin