he
porch, and the next instant her father came down the dark stairway into
the dining-room just as Gordon entered.

The old man halted, eyes ablaze. But Gordon came forward gravely,
saying, "I asked Miss Jocelyn if I might come as your guest to-night. It
would have been a lonely Thanksgiving at home."

Jocelyn turned to his daughter in silence. Then the three places laid at
table and the three chairs caught his eye.

"I hope," said Gordon, "that old quarrels will be forgotten and old
scores wiped out. I am sorry I spoke as I did this morning. You are
quite right, Mr. Jocelyn; the land is yours and has always been yours.
It is from you I must ask permission to shoot."

Jocelyn eyed him grimly.

"Don't make it hard for me," said Gordon. "The land is yours, and that
also which you lost with it will be returned. It is what my father
wishes--now."

He held out his hand. Jocelyn took it as though stunned.

Gordon, still holding his hard hand, drew him outside to the porch.

"How much did you have in the Sagamore & Wyandotte Railway before our
system bought it?" asked Gordon.

"All I had--seven thousand dollars--" Suddenly the old man's hand began
to tremble. He raised his gray head and looked up at the stars.

"That is yours still," said Gordon, gently, "with interest. My father
wishes it."

Old man Jocelyn looked up at the stars. They seemed to swim in silver
streaks through the darkness.

"Come," said Gordon, gayly, "we are brother sportsmen now--and that sky
means a black frost and a flight. Will you invite me to shoot over Brier
Brook swales to-morrow?"

As he spoke, high in the starlight a dark shadow passed, coming in from
the north, beating the still air with rapid wings. It was a woodcock,
the first flight bird from the north.

"Come to dinner, young man," said Jocelyn, excited; "the flight is on
and we must be on Brier Brook by daybreak."

In the blaze of a kerosene-lamp they sat down at table. Gordon looked
across at Jocelyn's daughter; her eyes met his, and they smiled.

Then old man Jocelyn bent his head on his hard clasped hands.

"Lord," he said, tremulously, "it being Thanksgiving, I gave Thee extry
thanks this A.M. It being now P.M., I do hereby double them extry
thanks"--his mind wandered a little--"with interest to date. Amen."

THE PATH-MASTER

"The bankrupt can always pay one debt, but neither God nor man
can credit him with the payment."

I

When Dingman, the fa