was watching with ears
pricked, and now he brayed a hostile note, as though he divined the
trouble which could come at the heels of a wandering boy. I waved my
hat and plunged into the bush.

"Now, Davy, tell me how it all happened," said James, drawing himself
up very straight in the saddle as he started the horses toward home.

I began to tell him. He broke into a song. When I tried to make
myself heard, his voice swelled up louder. Never before had James sung
as he was singing now, and I watched him first with wonder and then
with increasing terror. As we dragged our way up the ridge, out of the
narrow gut, he droned his music in maudlin fashion in time to the slow
motion of the beasts. When the valley stretched before us he fairly
thundered, striving to make himself heard across the broad land. I
hoped that before we entered the village exhaustion would silence him,
but in answer to my appeals he raised his voice to a pitch and volume
that brought the people running out of their houses, and he seemed to
find great pleasure in the attention that he was attracting. The high
throne from which I had looked down so proudly that morning as I rode
to my fishing became a pillory of shame. I could not escape from it,
for the whip was swinging in time to the music, and the horses,
confused by the riot, were rearing and plunging. I had to cling to the
harness with all my strength. We halted at the store. It was quite
unintentional and made the climax of a boisterous progress. James,
lurching back in his saddle, would have fallen but for the support of
the rein. The horses stopped suddenly. He shot forward, clutching at
the air, and hurtled into the road. From my height and from my shame,
I saw the whole world running to witness our plight--men, women, and
children, it seemed to me hundreds of them, who must have been lying in
wait for this very thing to happen. Through them Mr. Pound forced his
way, waving back the press until he reached the side of the fallen man.

"James," he said, looking down and speaking not unkindly, "how often
have I warned you!"

The answer was a look of childish wonder.

"Come, come," said Mr. Pound, taking a limp, sprawling arm and lifting
the culprit to his feet. "Tell me, who was the tempter who brought you
to this?"

James gazed stupidly at the minister. Then a devil must have seized
him, for in his nature he was a gentle soul, as I knew, who had heard
him so often crooni