e gripping pleasure, looking quickly at
Jane who smiled proudly back at him. But there was another surprise to
come. Uncle Zack stalked forth with a new high-power rifle like the one
Dale had so feverishly admired in the Colonel's possession; and Bob,
presenting it, said:

"A token, in admiration of your skill, from Goethals the younger: Mr.
McElroy!"

If this were a surprise to the porch audience, it almost overcame the
blushing Dale, who grasped it, ran his eyes along its sights, and then
looked in a bewildered, happy fashion again at Jane. She was
smiling--and with a rarely sweet expression--but not at the Sharpshooter
of Sunlight Patch. The direction of her eyes suggested the necessity of
politeness, and he started across the circle toward Brent, when the air
was rent by a sharp explosion.

Everyone was frozen to an instant silence, alert for that cry which so
often follows sounds of violence. True enough, from the direction of the
cabins, came a long, plaintive wail of distress.

The Colonel and his friends sprang up with shocked faces and hurried
back. But before them were the negroes, now gathered in helpless,
awe-struck groups about a small boy lying in the path. It was little
Mesmie, and a glance at her arms, the shattered, still smoking fragments
of a giant cracker, told the pitiful story of inexperience, a quick
fuse, irreparable horror.

As gently as the child's mother would have done, had she been alive to
view this pitiable sight, Brent stooped and lifted her. The Colonel
motioned toward her father's cabin a few yards off, and there the
procession wended its solemn way. Someone went after Bradford, while
Jane hurried to telephone for Doctor Stone, and in less than ten minutes
his runabout was chugging out the pike at its top speed of fifteen good
miles an hour.

It was a curious sight when the noisy little machine dashed between the
old classic gate posts, beneath the low swinging wild-grape vines, and
around the silent tanbark circle to the Colonel's secluded home. It was
the only thing, indeed, which had been able to check the sobs of Bip
for his injured playmate.

To the mutual indignation of the Colonel and Bradford, Doctor Stone sent
them quickly from the room, keeping Jane and Timmie to help him with the
dressings. Later Jane came out and sat with Ann.

As evening approached, Arden grew deathly still beneath the sadness
which had thrust its fangs into the joyous day; the heavy, sickening
s