ng toward the group which now he saw
approaching.

"Hello, Pa," exclaimed the half-wit, and laughed long and loud. "I
didn't come home," said he. "I'm--I'm out!"

The sad face of Ephraim Adamson was seen by all, as he pushed in among
them and took his son by the arm. They walked away briskly now
together, Johnnie looking back over his shoulder.

But now, to the surprise of all--to her own surprise as well, so sudden
was her resolve--Aurora Lane hurried after these two.

"Mr. Adamson," said she, "wait, don't whip him--I'm not angry--I
understand."

Adamson halted for just a moment. "He's been away all day," said he, his
face showing no resentment of her presence. "I didn't know they let him
out last night--he didn't come home. I began looking for him as soon as
I knew he was out--I thought he might be hiding in the fields--he does
sometimes. He always runs away whenever he gets a chance. I'm sorry if
he's done wrong--has he been bad to you?"

"I understand everything," said Aurora Lane. Many heard her say that.
"Don't mind. Tomorrow, will you both be in town?--I might talk to you."

"No, Ma'am," said Adamson briefly. "He can't come any more. I may be
here. What do you want of me--after what I've said--after what I've done
to you? And here you come and bring him back to me."

His own face showed whitish blue in the flicker of the great arc light.

"Ma'am," he went on again, "there's a lot about you--you're some woman
after all. Where have you been--at church?"

"Yes," said Aurora Lane, "I was at church."

"I ain't been there in years," said Eph Adamson sadly.

"Neither have I," rejoined Aurora Lane, "twenty years, I think--perhaps
more."

He gazed at her now out of his old, bleared, sad eyes. "I wouldn't of
been here now but for what's happened," said he. "Already I was sad--and
I was drunk before I was. And I was--well, I felt like I was a rebel,
that was all, yesterday. That boy of yours looked so fine, I couldn't
stand it. Look at mine! I done wrong, Ma'am. I said what I had no right
to say. I'm sorry, clean through--with all my heart I'm sorry for what I
done yesterday."

She made no answer to him, and he went on. "It seems like some folks was
sort of born under a cloud, don't it? I'm one of them, I reckon. All
this has been my fault. I'm sorry as I can be. Can't you forgive me,
Miss Lane, can't you forgive me any?"

"You didn't hear the anthem," said Aurora Lane, "because you were not in
church. It