ce."

He went through this introduction to gain control of his feelings.

"They have changed their minds, Everett, and have brought me the pig,"
he exclaimed. "It was kind of you, child!"

He had almost said "boy"; but, remembering the admission Flea had made,
he gazed straight at her, watching with growing interest the changes
that passed over the young face.

"You see," he hurried on nervously, "they found out where I lived, and
thought I might still want the pig--"

Ann Shellington admonishingly touched her brother's arm. "Horace!" she
urged; but he stopped her with a gesture.

"I think it mighty nice of them to come all the way from Dryden with a
pig--on my soul, I do, Ann!"

Taking a silver case from his pocket, he extracted a cigarette from it,
while directing his attention to Flea.

"I want it now as much as I did then; but I don't believe that I shall
ever roast and eat him."

Flea searched the speaker's face fearfully, her eyes lustrous with
melting tenderness. He had promised her that Squeaky should live; but
was he going to send Flukey away? It was slow torture, this waiting for
his verdict, each second measured full to the brim, each minute more
agonizing than the last.

Horace Shellington was speaking again. "You see, Katherine," he said,
turning to the younger girl, "I know this puzzles you; but these two
youngsters won the pig at the fair, and I tried to buy it of them for a
roast. Just at that time this little--chap--" he motioned toward Flea,
"didn't want to part with it. He's changed his mind. You see the pig is
here."

Miss Shellington did not supplement her brother's statement; but the
tall stranger with the brilliant eyes gazed dubiously at the table and
then down into Flea's face.

"I'll bet my hat," he said in a tone deep and rich, "that you boys have
been thieving!"

Before the frightened girl could respond, the master of the house
stepped between them; but not before Flea had caught an expression that
took her back to Screech Owl's hut.

"For shame, Everett!" chided Horace. "I have just told you that they
were trying to do me a favor. The pig has come a long way, and I gave
him some--salad. There's plenty more in the larder."

It was hard for Horace Shellington to lie flagrantly, and his
explanation sounded forced. The music in his voice pierced the childish
lethargy of Flea's soul, awakening it to womanhood. Intuition told her
that he had lied for her sake.

"And you gave