after the shower should pass.

But the shower did not pass on. Instead it settled into a steady
drizzle. When the rain began to beat inside he drew the door nearly
shut.

The measured breathing came from one end of the car. There seemed to
be but one occupant besides Ralph.

As the time passed, the lad grew drowsy. Inured though he was to an
active life, the walking he had done had fatigued him greatly. Now, as
he sat resting, waiting for the rain to cease, a natural drowsiness
asserted itself with a potency that would not be denied.

As he nodded he awakened himself several times by a violent jerk of the
head, but at last slumber prevailed entirely, and Ralph was sleeping as
soundly as the other unknown occupant of the car.

The unusual events of the last two days had kept his fancies at an
abnormal stretch. It was natural, therefore, for him to begin dreaming.

It seemed as if he were going back instead of leaving his home. Every
one he met looked at him compassionately. Finally he saw Jase Vaughn,
and remembered that he owed Jase five dollars. He put his hand in his
pocket and drew out--a rattlesnake.

Even this did not waken him, though he thought he was back at the shack
by the tar kiln. The ground seemed to be covered with snakes. He ran
ever so far, then all at once he was with Jase just as if he had been
with him all the time.

"I haven't got no money," he said sorrowfully.

"Never mind," replied Vaughn. "You run home. Poor fellow; I'm sorry
for you."

Much perplexed, he kept on until he stood before his grandfather's
cabin. He thought his Aunt Dopples was there, with her eyes red with
weeping.

"Go in; go in," she urged, pushing him through the doorway. "He's been
waiting for you till he's about give out."

Ralph dreamed that the first thing he saw was his grandfather propped
up in bed, with a ghastly pallor on his face. When he beheld his
truant grandson, the scowl upon his brow deepened, and he shook a
warning finger.

"Wretched boy!" hissed the old man, while Ralph cowered like one in the
presence of a ghost, "you are no Granger. There never was a Granger
that acted the coward. You are a Vaughn--a Vaughn--a Vaughn!"

The old man's tone towards the last rose into such a wild, weird
shriek, that Ralph's blood ran cold. He attempted to speak with a
tongue so tied by fear that words would not come.

Under the agony of effort he screamed aloud, then suddenly awoke.

"Here!