er died in her sleep," she told him. "She
didn't suffer any."

He made no reply. Oppressed by the dull pain for which there is no
ease, he wandered from the house to the garden, and from the garden
back to the house throughout the day. At sunset Barnabas drove over.

"I shall stay here to-night, Barnabas," said M'ri, "but I want you to
drive back and get some things. I've made out a list. Janey will know
where to find them."

"Sha'n't I take Dave back to stay to-night?" he suggested.

M'ri hesitated, and looked at David.

"No," he said dully, following Barnabas listlessly down the path to
the road.

Barnabas, keen, shrewd, and sharp at a bargain, had a heart that ever
softened to motherless children.

"Dave," he said gently, "your ma won't never hev to wash no more, and
she'll never be sick nor tired agen."

It was the first leaven to his loss, and he held tight to the horny
hand of his comforter. After Barnabas had driven away there came
trudging down the road the little, lithe figure of an old man, who was
carrying a large box. His mildly blue, inquiring eyes looked out from
beneath their hedge of shaggy eyebrows. His hair and his beard were
thick and bushy. Joe Forbes maintained that Uncle Larimy would look no
different if his head were turned upside down.

"David," he said softly, "I've brung yer ma some posies. She liked my
yaller roses, you know. I'm sorry my laylocks are gone. They come
early this year."

"Thank you, Uncle Larimy."

A choking sensation warned David to say no more.

"Things go 'skew sometimes, Dave, but the sun will shine agen,"
reminded the old man, as he went on into the house.

Later, when sundown shadows had vanished and the first glimmer of the
stars radiated from a pale sky, Joe came over. David felt no thrill at
sight of his hero. The halo was gone. He only remembered with a dull
ache that the half dollar had brought his mother none of the luxuries
he had planned to buy for her.

"David," said the young ranchman, his deep voice softened, "my mother
died when I was younger than you are, but you won't have a stepmother
to make life unbearable for you."

The boy looked at him with inscrutable eyes.

"Don't you want to go back with me to the ranch, David? You can learn
to ride and shoot."

David shook his head forlornly. His spirit of adventure was
smothered.

"We'll talk about it again, David," he said, as he went in to consult
M'ri.

"Don't you think the only thing