aid, with as much of cajolery as
command, "you mustn't bother the young lady. Ain't you ashamed to scare
her this way? Get right out of this."

The watchman took the other by the arm, and, as they started off--one
insisting and one objecting--the official looked back to say: "He won't
hurt nobody, Miss Warriner--he's just a little cranky, that's all."

Mary watched them out of sight, and while she was doing so, Gerald Heath
approached from the contrary direction. He had heard the girl's scream.
Why he was within earshot he might not have been able to explain
satisfactorily, for it was not his habit to take midnight walks, even
when the air was so brightly moonlit and so temporarily fine; but if
cross-questioned, he would doubtless have maintained that he had sought
only to escape from the darkness and closeness of his shanty quarters.
Besides, where would he so likely wander, in quest of good sight and
breath, as to the spot whence he could view the scenery which he in vain
asked the railway company to exhibit to their passengers. As he turned
the corner of the cabin he saw Eph and the watchman departing, and
comprehended the disturbance.

"Eph has been frightening you, Miss Warriner," he said.

Mary screamed again, but this time it was a low, musical little outcry
of modesty. She had not observed Gerald's approach. She clutched the
blanket closely around her white throat, which had been almost as much
exposed as by an ordinary cut of frock, and drew under cover the
gleaming wrists which had all day been bared to a greater extent by
sleeves of handy working length. Then she reached out one taper arm, and
swung the sash around on its hinges, so its inner covering of muslin
made a screen between her and the visitor. He did not apologize for his
intrusion, and she pouted a little on her safe side of the sash, at his
failure to do so.

"I see it was Eph that alarmed you," he said. "What did he do?"

She told him, and then asked: "Who is he, and what ails him?"

"He is a common laborer with an uncommon affliction," was the reply.
"One day an excavation caved in, and for an hour he was buried. Some
timbers made a little space around his head, but the rest of him was
packed in earth. He had breathed the inclosed air two or three times
over, and was almost suffocated when we got him out. He was insensible.
He never came back to his senses. He believes he is living at the rate
of more than a year every hour. This is why h