ter tasks to perform.

Then he remembered his own appearance, and smiled ruefully. Instead of
listening they would in all probability set the dog on him. Perhaps he
could persuade her to return of her own accord.

"The people you were working for; their name was 'Hess'?" he asked.

She nodded as she finished fastening the cool compress about his
forehead.

"Henry Hess an' his wife, Freida, an'--an' Max."

Something in the quality of her tone more than her hesitation made him
demand sharply:

"Who is Max?"

"Their son." Her voice was very low, but for the first time it trembled
slightly.

"You don't like him, do you?" He waited a moment, and then added
abruptly: "Why not?"

"Because he's a--a beast! I don't want to talk about him! I don't want
even to remember that such _things_ as he is can be let live!"

James Botts turned and looked at her and then away, for the childish
figure had been drawn up tensely with a sort of instinctive dignity
which sat not ill upon it, and from her dark eyes insulted womanhood had
blazed.

"I'd like to go back and lick him to a standstill!" to his own utter
amazement Botts heard his own voice saying thickly.

The fire had died out of Lou's face and she replied composedly:

"What for? He don't matter any more, does he? We're goin' on."

The last sentence recalled his problem once more to his mind. What in
the world was he to do with this young creature whom fate had thrust
upon his hands? Four quarters and a fifty-cent piece represented his
entire capital at the moment, and if he did put her into the hands of
the county authorities until his journey was completed and he could make
other arrangements for her, it would mean a delay on his part now, when
every hour counted for so much just now.

"Do you know how far we are from Hudsondale?" he asked.

"Not more'n two miles, the farm-hands used to walk there often of an
evenin' to the movies."

The girl had cleaned her knife in the brook and was now wrapping it in
the apron, together with the remains of their repast.

"They say that not more'n twenty miles from there you can see the big
river, but I ain't ever been."

"That's the way I was going," he observed thoughtlessly. "From
Hudsondale to Highvale, and right on down the west bank of the river to
New York."

Lou sat back on her heels reflectively.

"All right," she said at last. "I ain't ever figgered on goin's far as
New York, but I might as well go there as any