was going to tell him to keep away, but he relented as he looked
down at the harmless little man, with his thin, boyish face.

"Oh, my business is all right. Gregory looks after it mostly, anyhow.
But, I say, if you wanted to go into the dray business, there's a
first-class opening now. Clark wants to sell."

It ended in Anson seeing Clark and buying out his line of drays,
turning in his claim toward the payment--a transaction which made
Flaxen laugh for joy, for she had not felt certain before that he would
remain in St. Peter. She was getting about the house now, looking very
wifely in her long, warm wraps, her slow motions contrasting strongly
with the old restless, springing steps Anson remembered so well.

Night after night, as he sat beside the fire and held baby, listening
to the changed voice of his girl and watching the grave, new
expressions of her face, the tooth of time took hold upon him
powerfully, and he would feel his shaggy head and think, "I'll soon be
gray, soon be gray!" while the little one cooed, and sprang, and pulled
at his beard, which had grown long again and had white hairs in it.

Kendall spent most of his time at the store, or downtown somewhere, and
so all of those long, delicious winter evenings were Flaxen's and
Anson's. And his enjoyment of them was pathetic. The cheerful little
sitting-room, the open grate, the gracious, ever-growing womanliness of
Elga, the pressure of soft little limbs; and the babble of a liquid
baby language, were like the charm of an unexpected Indian-summer day
between two gray November storms.

CHAPTER XIV.

KENDALL STEPS OUT.

One night Kendall did not come home, but as he had been talking of
going to St. Paul they were not disturbed about it--in fact, they both
took but very mild interest in his coming or going. In the morning,
while they were at breakfast, there came a knock at the door.

"Come in," shouted Anson in the Western way, not rising.

McDaniel, the county sheriff, entered.

"Where's Kendall?" he asked without ceremony.

"I don't know; went away yesterday."

The sheriff looked at his companion. "Skipped between two days."

"What's up?" asked Anson, while Elga stared and baby reached slyly for
the sugar-bowl.

"Nothing," the sheriff said in a tone which meant everything. "Come out
here," he said to Anson. Anson went out with him, and he told him that
Kendall had purchased goods on credit and gambled the money away, and
was rui