so the symbols
wrought out by the hungry world stand for what is somewhere, yet not
visibly here. For the man exists or the savage could not have drawn him.
Not all the mystics, he thought, smiling over his foolish inner
conviction that could not be reached through the mind but only through
the heart, not all the divines, could have set up within him the altar
of faith he seemed suddenly to see before him: it had to be Old Crow.
And he slept, and in the morning it did not need the mottled book at his
bedside to remind him. Still it was Old Crow.

He put it all away in his mind to think over later, just as Old Crow had
turned aside from his vision for the more convincing clearness of an
oblique angle upon it, and dressed hastily. He got out of the house
without meeting even Charlotte, and was about crossing the road on the
way to the hut when he saw Tenney coming, axe and dinner pail in hand.
Raven swerved on his path, and affected to be looking down the road. He
could not proceed the way he was going. Tenney's mind must not be drawn
toward that living focus by even the most fragmentary hint. Yet if Tira
was still there, she and the child must be fed. After his glance down
the road he turned back to the house, nodding at Tenney as he neared.
But Tenney motioned to him.

"Here," he called stridently. "You wait."

Raven halted and as Tenney was approaching, at a quick stride, noted how
queerly he was hung. It was like a skeleton walking, the dry joints
acting spasmodically. When the man came up with him, he saw how ravaged
his face was, and yet lighted by what a curious eagerness. Ready, he
hoped, at all points for any possible attack involving Tira, Raven still
waited, and the question Tenney shot at him could not have been more
surprising:

"Did you find salvation?"

Raven stood looking at him for an instant, and suddenly he remembered
Old Crow, who had accomplished the salvation of a sick heart and
bequeathed the treasure to him.

"Yes," he said, more tolerantly than he had ever spoken to Tenney. "I
think I did."

Was it his imagination that Tenney looked disappointed?

"Last night?" the man insisted. "Did you find it last night? Through
me?"

"No," said Raven. "I didn't find it through you."

Tenney was ingenuously taken aback.

"There is one way," he said, "into the sheepfold--only one."

He turned about, muttering, and Raven, looking after him, thought he was
an ugly customer. For a woman to be shut