ly toward one of "the Kayes,"
and should the victim recover, he would, doubtless, prosecute to the
full extent of the law the person who had assaulted him.

"Do you know how he is?"

"Of whom do you ask?"

"Cousin Archibald, of course. I am so sorry for him. If I hadn't to
work, I would go and take care of him, if he'd let me."

"I don't think he would. Besides, you would not be either strong or wise
enough. He must have trained nursing, the best obtainable. I hear that
he has recovered consciousness and is resting quietly. What
complications may arise one cannot foresee. He has been a high liver,
and he is an old man; but I hope for the best. I hope it not only for
his sake, but everybody's concerned."

"Wasn't it queer that that man, that officer,--a sheriff he called
himself,--should come after my uncle? It frightened my father, so Hallam
stayed with him. I'm sorry to be away from my place to-day, but Cleena
fancies I have taken cold. Then, too, since Uncle Frederic came, of
course I should devote myself to him. He's just splendid. So big and
strong and jolly. Even under his sorrow about my mother he is as
sunshiny as possible. He's like a fresh west wind that 'airs' a house
so wonderfully. I do want you to see him; and I came to ask if you'd
just go and explain to that sheriff how silly it is to suspect him."

Mr. Metcalf regarded Amy for a moment in silence. With all her good
sense, she was as ignorant as a child of many things in practical life.
He answered her very gently:--

"I expect to see him soon, that is my intention. Dr. Wise and I will
become his 'bail', so that he can soon be set at liberty."

"I do not understand you. What do you mean?"

"Why, this: your uncle has been arrested upon suspicion of waylaying and
assaulting Mr. Wingate. He will be imprisoned unless somebody becomes
surety for him, that he will appear at court when summoned to stand his
trial and prove his innocence if he can. It is right you should know
this, though extremely disagreeable for me to speak of it."

Amy's face paled as he talked. She did not wonder that her father had
been frightened. The thing was horrible, and the disgrace of it crushed
her. She bowed her head beneath its weight, and sat silent so long that
the superintendent was moved to rise and comfort her.

"Don't take it so to heart, my child; there is, of course, some great
mistake. The thing is--to find out who the real assailant was and bring
him to just