e for
alarm. So Mrs. Caspar and Elta, in flying about to prepare breakfast
for the rescuing party, almost worked themselves into a state of
hopeful cheerfulness. It was only after the meal had been hastily
eaten, and the Major with his stalwart Swedes had departed, that a
reaction came, and the anxious fears reasserted themselves. For hours
they could do nothing but discuss the situation, and watch for some one
to come with news. Several times during the morning Elta put on her
water-proof and went down to the mill. There, she would gaze with
troubled eyes at the ever-rising waters, until reminded that her mother
needed comforting, when she would return to the house.

On one of these occasions the girl was surprised to see a saddle-horse,
bearing evidences of a hard journey, standing at the hitching-post near
the front door. But this first surprise was as nothing to the
amazement with which she beheld her mother clasped in the arms of a
strange young man who was so bespattered with mud that his features
were hardly recognizable. Mrs. Caspar was laughing and crying at the
same time, while both she and the young man were talking at once. Near
them, and regarding this tableau with the utmost gravity, was a
powerful-looking bull-dog, who would evidently be pure white when
washed.

For a full minute Elta stood in the doorway gazing wonderingly at this
strange scene. Then her mother caught sight of the girl's wide-eyed
bewilderment, and burst into a fit of laughter that was almost
hysterical.

"It's your uncle William!" she cried, as soon as she could command her
voice. "My little brother Billy, whom I haven't seen for twelve years,
and he has just come from California. Give him a kiss, dear, and tell
him how very glad we are to see him."

Then Elta was in turn embraced by the mud-bespattered young man, who
gravely announced that he should never have recognized her.

"No wonder, for she was only a baby when you last saw her!" exclaimed
Mrs. Caspar; "and I'm sure I should never have recognized you but for
your voice. I don't know how you look even now, and I sha'n't until
you wash your face."

"What's the matter with my face? Is it dirty?" asked the young man.

For answer Mrs. Caspar led him in front of a mirror.

"Well, I should say it was dirty! In fact, dirty is no name at all for
it!" he laughed. "I believe I look about as bad as Binney Gibbs[1] did
when he covered himself with 'mud and glory' at t