ed hard. I did not go home for lunch, but sent Sam
over to Eldredge's store for canned ham and crackers which I ate at my
desk. It was a fairly busy day, fortunately, and I could always find
some task to occupy my mind. Lute called, at two o'clock, to inquire why
I had not been home and I told him that Taylor was away and I should be
late for supper. He departed, shaking his head.

"It's just as I said," he declared, "you're workin' yourself sick,
that's what you're doin'. You're growin' foolish in the head about
work, just the same as Dorindy. And YOU don't need to; you've got money
enough. If I had independent means same as you've got I tell you I'd
have more sense. One sick invalid in the family's enough, ain't it?"

"No doubt, Lute," I replied. "At all events you must take care of your
health. Don't YOU work yourself sick."

Lute turned on me. "I try not to," he said, seriously; "I try not to,
but it's a hard job. You know what that wife of mine is cal'latin' to
have me do next? Wash the hen house window! Yes sir! wash the window
so's the hens can look at the scenery, I presume likely. I says to her,
says I, 'That beats any foolishness ever I heard! Next thing you'll want
me to put down a carpet in the pigsty, won't ye? You would if we kept a
pig, I know.'"

"What did she say to that?" I inquired.

"Oh, the land knows! Somethin' about keepin' one pig bein' trouble
enough. I didn't pay much attention. But I shan't wash no hen's window,
now you can bet on that!"

I shouldn't have bet much on it. He went away, to spend the next hour in
a political debate at Eldredge's, and I wrote letters, needlessly long
ones. Closing time came and Sam went home, leaving me to lock up. The
train was due at six-twenty, but it was nearly seven before I heard it
whistle at the station. I stood at the front window looking up the road
and waiting.

I waited only a few minutes, but they were long ones. Then I saw George
coming, not running this time, but walking with rapid strides. The
crowd, waiting on the post-office steps, shouted at him but he paid
no attention. He sprang up the steps and entered the bank. I stepped
forward and seized his hand. One look at his face was enough; he had the
bonds, I knew it.

"Ros, you here!" he exclaimed. "Is it all right? The examiner hasn't
showed up?"

"No," I answered. "You have them, George?"

"Right in my pocket, thank the Lord--and you, Ros Paine. Just let me get
them into that safe an