tha's
nagging was too hideous to contemplate. So, between a sunset and a
rising, Josiah Childs disappeared from East Falls. And from that day,
for twelve years, he had received no letter from her. Not that it was
her fault. He had carefully avoided letting her have his address. His
first postal money orders were sent to her from Oakland, but in the
years that followed he had arranged his remittances so that they bore
the scattered postmarks of most of the states west of the Rockies.

But twelve years, and the confidence born of deserved success, had
softened his memories. After all, she was the mother of his boy, and it
was incontestable that she had always meant well. Besides, he was not
working so hard now, and he had more time to think of things besides his
business. He wanted to see the boy, whom he had never seen and who had
turned three before his father ever learned he was a father. Then, too,
homesickness had begun to crawl in him. In a dozen years he had not seen
snow, and he was always wondering if New England fruits and berries had
not a finer tang than those of California. Through hazy vistas he saw
the old New England life, and he wanted to see it again in the flesh
before he died.

And, finally, there was duty. Agatha was his wife. He would bring her
back with him to the West. He felt that he could stand it. He was a man,
now, in the world of men. He ran things, instead of being run, and
Agatha would quickly find it out. Nevertheless, he wanted Agatha to come
to him for his own sake. So it was that he had put on his frontier rig.
He would be the prodigal father, returning as penniless as when he
left, and it would be up to her whether or not she killed the fatted
calf. Empty of hand, and looking it, he would come back wondering if he
could get his old job in the general store. Whatever followed would be
Agatha's affair.

By the time he said good-bye to his staff and emerged on the sidewalk,
five more of his delivery wagons were backed up and loading.

He ran his eye proudly over them, took a last fond glance at the
black-and-gold letters, and signalled the electric car at the corner.

II

He ran up to East Falls from New York. In the Pullman smoker he became
acquainted with several business men. The conversation, turning on the
West, was quickly led by him. As president of the Oakland Chamber of
Commerce, he was an authority. His words carried weight, and he knew
what he was talking about, whether