calling me."

"Today, Jim?" she asked quickly.

"Right away. We'll catch the first train north, stop two days, Christmas
Eve and Christmas, in Asheville, and then for old New York!"

The journey along the new railroad built on concrete bridges over miles
of beautiful waters was one of unalloyed joy. They had passed over this
stretch of marvelous engineering at night on their trip down and had not
realized its wonders. For hours the train seemed to be flying on velvet
wings through the ocean.

She sat beside her lover and held his hand. In spite of her enthusiasm,
he would doze. At every turn of entrancing view she would pinch his arm:

"Look, Jim! Look!"

He would lift his heavy eyelids, grunt good-naturedly and doze again.

In the dining-car she was in mortal terror at first lest he should lapse
into the coarse table manners into which he had fallen in camp. She laid
his napkin conspicuously on his plate and saw that he had opened and put
it in place across his lap before ordering the meals.

The moment he found himself in a crowd, the lights began to flash in his
eyes, his broad shoulders lifted and his whole being was at once alert
and on guard. He followed his wife's lead with unerring certainty.

She renewed her faith in his early reformation, though his character
was a puzzle. He seemed to be forever watching out of the corners of his
slumbering eyes. She wondered what it meant.

CHAPTER XIII. THE REAL MAN

They arrived in Asheville the night before Christmas Eve. Jim listened
to his wife's prattle about the wonderful views with quiet indifference.

They stopped at the Battery Park Hotel, and she hoped the waning moon
would give them at least a glimpse of the beautiful valley of the French
Broad and Swannanoa rivers and the dark, towering ranges of mountains
among the stars. She made Jim wait on the balcony of the room for half
an hour, but the clouds grew denser and he persisted in nodding.

His head dipped lower than usual, and she laughed.

"Poor old sleepy-head!"

"For the love o' Mike, Kiddo--me for the hay. Won't them mountains wait
till morning?"

"All right!" she answered cheerily. "I'll pull you out at sunrise. The
sunrise from our window will be glorious."

He rose and stretched his body like a young, well fed tiger.

"I think it's prettier from the bed. But have it your own way--have it
your own way. I'll agree to anything if you lemme go to sleep now."

She rose as the first