ep like a good boy; won't you?"

Swiftly, she leaned over, and, before he realized, he felt her lips
touch his forehead. Then she was gone, and Brian Kent's Irish eyes were
filled with tears. Turning to the wall, he hid his face in the pillow.

CHAPTER VII.

OFFICERS OF THE LAW.

As Auntie Sue was closing the door of her guest's room carefully behind
her, Judy came from the kitchen in great excitement, and the knocking at
the front door of the house was repeated.

"Hit's the Sheriff, ma'm," whispered Judy. "I was just a-comin' ter tell
you. I seed 'em from the kitchen-winder. He's got two other men with
him. Their hosses is tied ter the fence in front. What in hell will we
do, now? They are after him in there, sure 's death!"

Auntie Sue's face was white, and her lips trembled,--but only for a
moment.

"Go back into the kitchen, Judy, and stay there," she commanded, in a
whisper; and went to open the front door as calmly as if nothing unusual
had happened.

Sheriff Knox was a big man, with a bluff, kindly manner, and a voice
that made nothing of closed doors. He returned Auntie Sue's greeting
heartily, and, with one of his companions,--a quiet, business-looking
gentleman,--accepted her cordial invitation to come in. The third man of
the party remained near the saddle-horses at the gate.

"Well, Auntie Sue," said the Sheriff, settling his ponderous bulk in one
of the old lady's rocking-chairs, which certainly was not built to carry
such a weight, "how are you? I haven't seen you in a coon's age. I'll
swear, though, you ain't a minute older than you was when you first
begun teachin' the little Elbow Rock school up there on the hill, are
you?"

"I don't know, Sheriff," Auntie Sue returned, with a nervous little
laugh. "I sometimes think that I am a few days older. I have watched a
good many sunsets since then, you know."

The big officer's laughter almost shook the log walls of the house. To
his quiet companion, who had taken a chair near the window, he said:
"I'll have to tell you, Ross, that Auntie Sue owns every sunset in these
Ozark Mountains. What was it you paid for them?" He turned again to
their smiling hostess. "Oh, yes; fifty cents an acre for the land and
fourteen dollars and a half for the sunsets. You'll have to be blamed
careful not to trespass on the sunsets in this neighborhood, Ross."
Again, his hearty laugh roared out, while his chair threatened to
collapse with the quaking of his mass