The young man laughed. "Thanks to you," he said. "Come on in and make
a chowder. It's too late to do any more to-day--and that's enough." He
glanced with satisfaction at the glowing canvas with its touch of green.
He set it carefully to one side and gathered up his tubes and brushes.

Uncle William bent from his height and lifted the easel, knocking it
apart and folding it with quick skill.

The artist looked up with a nod of thanks. "All right," he said, "go
ahead."

Uncle William reached out a friendly hand for the canvas, but the artist
drew it back quickly. "No, no," he said. "You'd rub it off."

"Like enough," returned the old man, placidly. "I gen'ally do get in
a muss when there's fresh paint around. But I don't mind my clothes.
They're ust to it--same as yourn."

The young man laughed anxiously. "I wouldn't risk it," he said. "Come
on."

They turned to the path that zigzagged its way up the cliff, and with
bent backs and hinged knees they mounted to the little house perched on
its edge.

II

The old man pushed open the door with a friendly kick. "Go right along
in," he said. "I'll be there 's soon as I've got an armful of wood."

The artist entered the glowing room. Turkey-red blazed at the windows
and decorated the walls. It ran along the line of shelves by the fire
and covered the big lounge. One stepped into the light of it with a
sudden sense of crude comfort.

The artist set his canvas carefully on a projecting beam and looked
about him, smiling. A cat leaped down from the turkey-red lounge and
came across, rubbing his legs. He bent and stroked her absently.

She arched her back to his hand. Then, moving from him with stately
step, she approached the door, looking back at him with calm, imperious
gaze.

"All right, Juno," he said. "He'll be along in a minute. Don't you
worry."

She turned her back on him and, seating herself, began to wash her face
gravely and slowly.

The door opened with a puff, and she leaped forward, dashing upon
the big leg that entered and digging her claws into it in ecstasy of
welcome.

Uncle William, over the armful of wood, surveyed her with shrewd eyes.
He reached down a long arm and, seizing her by the tail, swung her clear
of his path, landing her on the big lounge. With a purr of satisfaction,
she settled herself, kneading her claws in its red softness.

He deposited the wood in the box and stood up. His bluff, kind gaze
swept the little room affec