his sight like a receding fire-ship. Who could she be?
Suddenly Alvord's whispered caution flashed on his mind, and he knew
that he had encountered, embraced and repudiated the Strawberry Blonde.
He paused for a moment to think over the situation--considerations of
policy were coming more and more to appeal to him as guides, and he
found himself feeling vulpine and furtive. But here, thought he, would
it not really have been best to temporize with the situation, and not
to have terminated all relations with Miss Scarlett in this public way?
Would it not----

Then rolled over his heart the consciousness of the manifold glories of
his Elizabeth's womanhood. Temporize with another woman? The very
thought repelled him. He involuntarily brushed his coat where it had
supported and encircled Miss Scarlett. He felt a sense of unworthiness
in having, even of necessity and for a proper purpose, embraced this
other girl. Looking up, he saw Judge Blodgett regarding him like a
portly accusing angel from the head of the stairway. He made a feint
at assisting Amidon in brushing his coat.

"Those red ones," said he, "are the very devil for showing on black!
I'd carry a whisk-broom, if I were you!"

[Illustration: "Those red ones," said the judge, "are the very devil
for showing on black!"]

"Blodgett," said Amidon, "I don't care to be chaffed about an accident
of that sort."

"Oh, certainly not!" said the judge. "But pick off the ringlets all
the same. And say, Florian, of course I don't count, but there was
another fellow at the foot of the stairs, the junior in the firm of
Fuller and Cox, my fellow practitioners; and in accidents of this sort
one sometimes does as much damage as a regular cloud of witnesses. And
remember, if you won't use the letter of withdrawal, you're to be a
good deal in the public eye, now."

Amidon moved on in disgust. And the poor faithful fellow, that his
spiritual tone might be restored, sat down and read once more his
Bible--the letter superscribed in the large, scrawly hand, "To be Read
En Route."

XXI

SOME ALTERNATIONS IN THE CURRENT

One made himself a name for skill to trace
To its last hiding-place,
Each secret Mother Earth engaged to save,
Of jungle, sea or cave.
No path so devious but he mastered it;
And, bit by bit,
From off the face of mystery, he tore
The veil she wore;
Then, turning inward all his skill in seeing,
To solve the knot