ood why Foresta was hiding her face. She
remembered her own feelings when the question of marriage had to be
broached to her mother. She bent over and kissed Foresta.

"Bud and I are going to run away and get married. Run away from you,"
said Foresta laughingly. "And you must be awfully surprised when we come
back. We are going to do this to avoid a lot of useless expense in
getting up a big wedding. That money can go to help us get rid of those
eating cancers, those old loan men."

Mrs. Crump knew how much Foresta's heart had always been set on a fine
wedding, and she knew that Foresta was making that sacrifice for her
sake.

"My sweet Foresta, you have been such a dear child--God will reward
you," said Mrs. Crump, burying her head on Foresta's shoulder. "This is
not what I had planned for my darling; but God knows what's best. His
will be done."

At the appointed hour Bud Harper was standing at Foresta's gate. Foresta
soon joined him and they took a train for a nearby town where they were
made man and wife.

In the meantime some awful things were happening at the Daleman
residence. Leroy Crutcher, of whom we caught a glimpse or so in an
earlier chapter, happened to be passing along the sidewalk that ran
parallel with the side of the Daleman residence. As he reached the alley
at the rear of the yard, he saw a man standing on a rock looking over
the back fence. The two men glared at each other. The moon was shining
brightly and they could see each other well.

Leroy turned away and walked along the street, saying to himself, "I
ought to have shot that scoundrel, Bud Harper, then and there."
Reflecting a little he said, "No, I must get him without hurting
myself."

The man about whom Leroy had thus spoken climbed over the fence and
crouched in the shadow of the coalhouse. His eyes were fixed on
Foresta's room and his vigil was ceaseless. At about eleven o'clock
Arthur Daleman, Jr., emerged from the hallway of the second story,
paused a few moments and crept toward Foresta's room.

"Yes, its true," muttered the Negro, between gritted teeth, the look of
a savage overspreading his face. He clambered over the fence saying,
"Wait a few minutes, happy couple."

In the meantime Arthur Daleman, Jr., had unlocked the door to Foresta's
room and stood as if rooted to the spot. There upon the bed lay Alene
instead of Foresta, as he could plainly see by the dimly burning light.
Fearing that Alene might awaken and see him,